


The 212th Attack Battalion's Guide to Staging Rescues

by antigrav_vector, Quarra



Series: The 212th Attack Battalion's Guide to Saving the Galaxy by Accident [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Ben Kenobi is an utter terror, Ben Kenobi represses lots of Feels, Ben goes into tea withdrawal, Boil and Waxer are adorkable and married, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, De-Aged Characters, Detective Yan, Discussion of Suicide and Suicidal Ideation, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Force-sensitive clone troopers, GFY, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jango Fett is a protective big brother, Jaster Mereel Lives, Jaster Mereel is The Best Dad, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Mandalorian Jedi, Mando'a, Mando’ad Ben Kenobi, Mutual Pining, Obi-Wan's life is just a series of traumatic incidents, POV Multiple, Past Child Abuse, Politics, Protective Clone Troopers, Qui-Gon Jinn is a Bad Dad, That's Not How The Force Works, Time Travel, Villain deaths, Yan Dooku is a secret troll, Yan Dooku never Falls to the Dark Side, albeit in different ways, armour is basically a religion on Mandalore, at times very heavy angst, basically everybody ships Ben and Cody, de-aged Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, death before dishonour, discussion of attachment and the Jedi Code, discussion of medical procedures and potential permanent injuries, don't worry there's a glossary, elements of kidfic, emotional trauma and recovery, gratuitous use of mando'a, including the Jedi Apprentice novels, itty bitty Jedi Master Ben Kenobi, like LOTS of mutual pining, lots of clone trooper shenanigans, off-screen child abuse by villains, references to various canons, slave labor camps, so are Sifo-Dyas and Dooku, so are all of the Vod'e, so is Sifo-Dyas, so tea parties are a thing, terrorist attacks and bombings, the Saga of the Control Chips, the clone troopers gossip a lot and it's hilarious, the universe may implode, the younger Obi-Wan is about five years old and made of sunshine, there are two Kenobis and both are lethal, there is approximately one explicit sex scene in this whole fic, until he doesn't anymore, who uses the pseudonym Ben, younger hotter Christopher Lee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 56
Words: 555,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25262914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra/pseuds/Quarra
Summary: Here goes nothing.
Relationships: Dooku & Sifo-Dyas (Star Wars), Dooku/Sifo-Dyas (Star Wars), Obi-Wan Kenobi & 212th Attack Battalion, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Clone Troopers, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Jango Fett, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Jaster Mereel, Plo Koon & Clone Troopers, Yan Dooku & Sifo-Dyas, Yan Dooku/Sifo-Dyas, background Obi-Wan Kenobi/CC-2224 | Cody, background Waxer (Star Wars)/Boil (Star Wars)
Series: The 212th Attack Battalion's Guide to Saving the Galaxy by Accident [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830226
Comments: 4424
Kudos: 2685





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly). Log in to view. 



> So. Please forgive the Wall of Tags.
> 
> This... ridiculous thing... is inspired by Karking Force Mishaps by Merfilly and, more specifically, the prompt they were given. Here is my take on it (admittedly with a metric tonne of input from my spontaneously appearing co-author, who decided I was singing the song of her people), written because the idea just would NOT let me go until I did the thing.
> 
> And this whole thing happened in the first place because Quarra went and got me started on what quickly became a multiple-week-long spiral of reading fic and watching the Clone Wars cartoon. I really didn't need a new set of precious cinnamon rolls to write about, but, well. I have a Lot of Feels about those clones. Sigh.
> 
> And then Quarra read the first draft of the first 10k of this and somehow we ended up co-authors. Unless noted otherwise, scenes from Ben Kenobi's POV and assorted clone troopers (except Helix) are mine, while scenes from other POVs are written by Quarra.
> 
> Writing began 2020-03-28 (jfc) and here we are, three months later, with more than 450k words to share with the internets.
> 
> Oh, for those who skipped over the Wall of Tags: **This fic is rated Mature, because it's a LOT of fairly plot heavy words, but there is a single smut scene in there, and we'll mark the chapter it appears in.**
> 
> We have yet to decide on a set posting schedule, but we're aiming for at minimum one chapter a week.
> 
> And with that, I'm done rambling. Enjoy!
> 
> \-- Grav

\--- POV: Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

"Sirs," Commander Cody's voice rang out as Obi-Wan and Anakin stepped onto the _Resolute_ 's starboard bridge to join him, "I assume Helix and Kix cleared you?"

The words were accompanied by a small surge in his Commander's usually tightly controlled emotions, that manifested in a sensation like a buzzing against Obi-Wan's skin. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his overly protective and worried second in command. "We're just fine, Cody," he answered, dodging the question ever so slightly, as he walked along the center walkway of the open space to join his Commander by the large bay windows.

Judging by Cody's tight expression, his evasion hadn't been quite smooth enough. Obi-Wan hastily offered him a distraction, knowing that he'd likely get an earful from both Cody and Helix later. "Has there been any progress in our search?"

Cody pressed his lips together briefly, his frown visible for the fraction of a second it took Obi-Wan to notice it, then set the topic aside for later, as Obi-Wan had known he would. Cody was ever aware of propriety, and wouldn't scold his General in public. Much.

The unhappy buzz against Obi-Wan's skin lingered, intensifying slightly as more of the troopers in earshot started to pick up on the byplay and disapprove of what they heard. The entire Battalion had a habit of trying to corral him into the medbay for the most incomprehensibly minor injuries, and it drove Obi-Wan ever so slightly mad at times despite the care it showed. After all, he was just fine.

"Well, sir, you're in luck," his Commander answered him after a beat, sounding like he didn't want to admit they'd found anything, just so that he would have an excuse to try to force Obi-Wan to rest or get cleared by Helix. "One of our scopes picked up a small ship with a strange trajectory, and it hasn't yet entered hyperspace. We believe it's General Grievous, given that it's heading for contested space, but haven't been able to confirm."

Anakin smirked. "Something tells me that it's him, and we have him right where we want him. Are we in a position to pursue, Commander?"

"Admiral Yularen has already laid in the intercept course," Cody responded. "General Grievous seems to be heading for a small star system nearby, likely in an attempt to lay low until we give up the search."

"Then we can tail him there and deal with him once and for all," Anakin decided with something approaching excitement in his voice, as a short murmur of conversation coming from below them hinted that the techs had made some slight change to their course.

Grievous was one of the highest ranking generals in the Seperatist army, and had been a constant thorn in their side. If they could take him out of play, it would no doubt save countless lives and be a huge victory for the Republic. 

"Now, Anakin," Obi-Wan put in, "we mustn't be too hasty. He may be counting on us to do exactly that, so he can lead us into an ambush."

Cody gave him a grateful look and the worried buzz calmed slightly. "We don't really have any manpower to waste right now, General Skywalker," he backed Obi-Wan up neatly. "Many of the men are walking wounded or in need of longer term medical attention after the Saleucami campaign, including Captain Rex."

"How many of the men can we mobilise, if need be?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"Half, at maximum. Both the 212th and 501st took heavier losses than expected on Saleucami, and barely three quarters of the men who deployed got back aboard ship. About one in three of those who returned is injured badly enough to justify staying onship in the event of another deployment, but there have been no further fatalities." Cody took a steadying breath, upset as ever by the idea of his brothers getting hurt or killed, and Obi-Wan felt the emotions in the room crest, becoming a harsh jangle so intense that he was sure he could've felt it from parsecs away. "Even at half strength, the 212th and the 501st together would be more than enough to deal with General Grievous, if he's on his own, but in the event that he's laying a trap? I don't like those odds, sirs."

"Understood, Cody. Keep us informed, if there are any changes," Obi-Wan requested. "Anakin and I should comm the Council to update them on what's happened. Perhaps they will be able to offer additional insight."

"Yes, General," Cody responded and pointedly didn't offer him a salute.

As they stepped back off the bridge, Anakin sighed. "Kriff, they're _really_ angry at Grievous, right now. Even your Commander. This could mean trouble when we do catch up to him."

Obi-Wan gave him a sardonic look. "Pot? Kettle," he said, well aware that his former padawan was just as riled up.

"Yeah, sure, I know. I'll keep a lid on it, Master. But I'm serious, here."

"I know you are, and I'm sure you will. As much as you ever do." Anakin blushed a little, embarrassed, but didn't dispute the point, so Obi-Wan kept speaking. "Unfortunately, there's really not much we can do about that," Obi-Wan answered, knowing his tone was grave and solemn. He hated losing men, himself. It cut at him in ways he'd never have thought to imagine before he'd started campaigning with them. "In any case, for now we have other concerns. The Council will surely have many questions for us."

With a resigned nod, Anakin said, "Yeah, they will," then paused and groaned before he added. "You know, if we don't go see Helix or Kix afterwards, Cody will hunt us down and drag us there."

"He does get quite insistent," Obi-Wan agreed with a groan. "And I know it's because he cares, but..."

"Yeah. Kix and Helix are way too trigger happy with their hyposprays."

Kix and Helix were the respective Chief Medical Officers of the 501st and the 212th, and both of them held a dim opinion of their generals’ ability to maintain their health. Worse, they also didn't hesitate to make that opinion quite clear to everyone within earshot.

The call to the Council was short and sweet, for once. Most members of the group were absent, either dealing with their own missions in the cases of Masters Koon and Windu, or otherwise occupied with Council business that meant they were currently unable to join in the discussion. Only Masters Fisto, Gallia, and Yoda were available to take the comm call. Obi-Wan was pleased that their report was quickly accepted, and shortly afterwards, they had the go-ahead to pursue Grievous. But then again, he realised with a silent sigh, that meant they had to keep their promise to Cody and go see the medics.

Resigned to their fates, Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged a despairing look once the call was over.

"Come on, we might as well get this over with. In this particular case, discretion definitely is the better part of valour. We're fine and getting looked at will only prove our point," Obi-Wan tried to cheer up his former padawan. "And you can check in with Rex while we're being poked and prodded. I doubt Kix has let him escape medical just yet, given the severity of his injury."

"I guess you're right," Anakin conceded glumly, then added, "I just wish I'd been there to prevent Rex from getting hit in the first place."

And wasn't that just like Anakin. "You always did want to save the galaxy, one person at a time," Obi-Wan told him as they walked, smiling sadly. "You can't be everywhere at once, Anakin. Trust me, I've tried."

"Obviously. But that doesn't mean I have to like it," Anakin muttered back mulishly as they entered their medics' demesne. "Ahsoka is very upset, too."

"What don't you like, sir?" Kix interjected, emerging promptly from one of the nearer wards and coming over to meet them, as though he'd been watching the door and waiting for them to show up. The buzz of Kix's stress and irritation was somewhat more muted than Cody's, which was a relief.

"Not being able to save every man, woman, clone, and nonhuman in distress," Obi-Wan replied easily.

Kix snorted. "Ain't that the truth. Alright, General Skywalker, you're with me. Helix? Your General's actually shown up for once. It's a minor miracle, so don't waste it."

Obi-Wan gave him a level look that served to hide his building scowl from the medic. "You both had far more urgent cases to deal with," he pointed out, gesturing around the medical bay which was filled to capacity with injured troopers. "We're fine."

"We'll be the judge of that, sirs," Helix disagreed as he stepped into view, his medical scanner already in his hands. "Now do me a favour and stop arguing with me long enough that I can honestly tell Commander Cody I cleared you when he asks me next."

A few minutes later, Obi-Wan left the medbay again, feeling smugly pleased that Helix hadn't been able to find anything wrong with him that a meal and a drink of water wouldn't cure. Helix had almost looked like he'd wanted to make up some kind of reason to keep him in medical on principle, but Cody had commed Obi-Wan at an opportune moment to ask if he was busy, and Helix had been forced to clear him. To his pleasant surprise, he hadn't even been stabbed once.

Kix released Anakin as Obi-Wan reached the door of the medbay, and they strolled casually back up to the bridge to meet Cody. 

Commander Cody gave them a once-over when they returned, then followed it up with a nod, apparently satisfied. "We're still in pursuit and still on an intercept course, Generals," Cody reported without preamble, far calmer now than he had been before. "The ship we suspect belongs to General Grievous is currently nearing a star system that records say hasn't been inhabited in over a millennium, and the scopes are not picking up any suspicious traces that could indicate an ambush."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, reaching out to the Force for guidance. "It could still be a trap, but at least we shouldn't have to worry about the _Resolute_ taking fire," he said, when he didn't get a clear indication that there was any danger lurking in the system. "Do you think he'll risk making planetfall, Cody?"

"It's hard to say, General. His current course could easily lend itself to a landing on the single planet in the system, or it could let him take advantage of the planet's gravity well to slingshot himself off in some other direction, making himself far harder to track," Cody said, pointing out the relevant potential courses on the astronavigational table.

"Anakin, you're our best pilot," Obi-Wan asked, "what do you think?"

"It really could go either way, but my instincts tell me he'll land," Anakin responded.

Absentmindedly bringing his hand up to tug at his beard as he thought, Obi-Wan tried to work out the possible angles of attack. "How long do we have until he has to decide?"

"About ten minutes, by my estimate. Think we can ready the men in time to go after him, if he does land?" Anakin said, asking Cody a question of his own.

"Torrent and Ghost companies are ready to deploy anytime. The rest of the men..." Cody considered the point. "We might get about half of the able-bodied."

"Good enough for me," Anakin decided. "What do you think, Obi-Wan?"

"I think we'd be best off taking Torrent and Ghost Companies with us when we make planetfall, and having the rest of the men follow us down about ten minutes later to set up a base camp near our landing point. If we need them, they'll be ready, and they can move to intercept Grievous on the off chance that he gets past us and tries to get back off planet. The _Resolute_ can deal with him if he somehow manages to hit escape velocity against all the odds."

Cody nodded in approval. "Solid plan, sir. General Grievous is a slippery opponent." 

Obi-Wan half-listened as Cody passed on the orders and the ship quickly became a sea of gold- and blue-painted armour. Torrent and Ghost, as Cody had promised, were ready to move out in under five minutes, having apparently expected to be called upon. The other companies aboard ship were noticeably slower to gather their gear and assemble in the _Resolute_ 's hangar, though all of the able-bodied troops were still present and accounted for long before they knew whether Grievous truly would attempt to make planetfall long enough to evade capture.

The remainder of Anakin's estimated ten minutes passed agonisingly slowly as they watched their quarry for the smallest of course changes.

The planet they were rapidly approaching looked to be mostly terrestrial and rocky, though there were patches of green scattered here and there across the planet's surface that suggested forests or other large areas covered in plant life. There was virtually no information in the _Resolute_ 's navigational databases other than what Cody had already reported, though. They'd be going in blind to the potential planetary hazards, and Obi-Wan didn't like that idea at all.

He didn't have time to attempt to do any more thorough digging on the Holonet, unfortunately. At about the same moment as he'd reached that conclusion, Cody had caught his eyes. "It's time we got ourselves kitted out and onto the larties, Generals," he said firmly. "General Grievous is making planetfall, and if we'd like to be there to meet him, we need to move."

Without another word, Anakin turned and started for the hangar. Obi-Wan followed him with Cody at his side. "We're ready for the drop, Commander, not to worry. Is Captain Rex going to be joining us?"

"No. He's recovering well, but Kix has him on strict bed rest for at least another few hours and possibly up to a full rotation." Cody reported briskly, then added with a wry half-smile, "He'll be upset that he missed this landing. Appo's taking over command of Torrent for the duration."

Obi-Wan could feel his Commander's lingering distress over his good friend's injury, but knew better than to mention it and bring attention to it. The Captain would recover, and then Cody would relax again and all would be well. Or, at least, as well as could be expected considering they were embroiled in the hottest parts of a galactic war.

The rest of their trip through the _Resolute_ to her hangars, and then down to the planet's surface went by in a blur. There wasn't even any turbolaser fire to dodge on their descent, which, while it made for a welcome change, was an eerie feeling and left them all on edge.

It was when they set foot on the planet's surface, though, that a strange feeling of pressure that had been building around him in the Force almost unnoticed finally crested, and Obi-Wan found himself staggering, caught and held safe by Cody, while he fought not to lose himself in one of the strongest Force visions he'd had in years.

Images of places he'd never been, forests, laser fire and death. Betrayal, deception, and darkness in the Force. Himself and seven of his men, Cody prominent among them, standing tall and proud in their signature white armour, arrayed around two others in full suits of hauntingly familiar _beskar'gam_ in a city on what appeared to be Mandalore. Death Watch.

And Kamino. Geonosis.

All of it subtly different than he recalled it, but as vivid as though he'd lived it that way.

"Sir! Answer me!" Cody's worried voice and the strong buzz of his troopers' unease broke through the haze the vision left behind, jolting him out of the last emotional remnants of it and back into the present.

"Sorry, Cody," Obi-Wan carefully stood and took his own weight again, letting Cody steady him for a moment before he stepped just far enough away from his Commander to satisfy propriety. "I'm fine. The Force had a very intense message to deliver."

The vision had been draining, and he'd need to rest for a few hours once they were finally back aboard ship, but he certainly wasn't about to openly admit to that in front of the men. They'd fuss over him until the heat death of the universe had long since occurred.

Cody looked a bit apprehensive on hearing his words, though. "What is it, General? Trouble?"

"I've no idea," Obi-Wan admitted. "Nearly everything it showed me looked like it should have been a memory of mine, though nothing was quite as I recall it. I'm frankly mystified. But it definitely wasn't a premonition of anything going wrong in the next few hours, so I'm inclined to set it aside for now and meditate on it later."

A glance around him to take in the terrain showed him that the pilots had set down the dropships near the edge of what appeared to be a forest of trees so gnarled that they were only barely higher than any of the troopers was tall. Their foliage was just high and dense enough to obscure anything more than a few meters away, but thankfully they appeared to be of a species that shouldn't be toxic to humans or liable to try to ensnare them.

On their other side stretched a vast rocky plain that extended for klicks, all the way to the horizon. It appeared to be empty, but that in no way guaranteed that it truly was.

Appo huffed at him, breaking him back out of his analysis. "Alright, General Kenobi," he agreed, "but if you could see to it that General Skywalker snaps out of it, that would be helpful. If there's nothing wrong, there's no point in standing around here, wasting time."

Wanting to protest -- Force visions were hardly wastes of time, for all that they were usually unhelpful in the extreme -- but knowing that the mysticism of the Force was nigh incomprehensible to the extremely pragmatic clone troopers he was surrounded by, Obi-Wan bit his tongue. Instead, he said, "I'm afraid Anakin's got to come out of it on his own. I can't do anything to wake him."

"Great." Appo grumbled, distinctly unenthused.

A few moments later, though, Anakin's eyes fluttered open and he groaned as he got back onto his own feet. "What just hit me?"

"The Force," Obi-Wan told him, just to get him to make a face. "Did it tell you anything useful?"

"Not really. It just gave me vague images of a cave somewhere nearby. Nothing about what's inside or why it might be important," Anakin said, as he shook off the aftereffects of his own vision.

"Then Appo's right; we should get moving," Obi-Wan suggested, idly adjusting his bracers slightly. "Grievous can't have gotten far."

"Right," Anakin grinned, gathering himself and coming back on point. "Come on, Torrent, we've got ourselves a droid to deactivate!"

"Sir, yes sir!" His troopers saluted and fell in behind him as he set off into the underbrush to their left.

As per standard protocol, Obi-Wan and Ghost Company would follow, slightly behind them and about half a klick to their right.

To Obi-Wan's utter lack of surprise, they did indeed find Grievous less than half an hour later, attempting some kind of repairs to his ship. When he spotted them, he snarled and ran, scuttling off between the rocks his ship had gotten wedged between. He doubtless wanted to evade them long enough for the trail to go cold and allow him to get back to his repairs.

Anakin and Torrent didn't hesitate. They gave chase, with Anakin in the lead and Fives and Echo hard on his heels.

"Anakin, wait!" Obi-Wan tried to get their attention, but it was already too late. "Oh hells. Well, come on, Cody. We'd better be ready to ride to the rescue. He's thinking with his lightsabre again."

"As usual, sir," Cody shot back, voice desert dry, keeping pace with him as he broke into a loping run that let him cover lots of ground without tiring himself out too badly.

"Maybe so," Obi-Wan quipped back, between deep breaths, "but we'll never hear the end of it--" "--if we let him fight his way back out,--" "--and Rex will try to chastise us--" "--for risking Torrent company like that."

A silence fell between them, then, as they saved their breath for running, and Ghost caught up with Torrent a meter at a time. As they closed the distance, Obi-Wan felt the familiar knot in the pit of his stomach that signified danger start to take hold. 

Not now -- they were so close! -- not _now_ , he tried to plead with the Force, but the feeling only intensified as they drew even with Torrent, making him slow unconsciously until he was a part of the first rank of his troopers, mixed in with his officers.

Obi-Wan heard Anakin's familiar exhilarated laugh ring out, and the bad feeling spiked just as Grievous vanished into an opening in the tumbled rock wall that loomed suddenly before them. Ghost company happened to be closer to said opening, and Cody didn't hesitate. He charged right on through, heedless of the danger that Obi-Wan had sensed, the rest of the company hard on his heels. They were committed now. With a wince for their headlong dive into the unknown, but not about to let Cody face Grievous on his own -- not even backed up by two hundred odd of the GAR’s finest -- Obi-Wan grabbed for the Force and pushed himself into a leap, propelling himself forward until he was even with Wooley and Waxer, as they pelted through the cave opening.

And the world went dark.

When he woke with a groan, he could immediately tell that something had gone badly sideways. It was still dark, but he could tell they were no longer in that cave -- or whatever else it was -- and the stars were not where they should've been. Worse, the familiar, comforting, buzzing feeling of his Battalion in the Force was barely there anymore.

What the _kriff_ had happened?

He took careful stock of how he felt before daring to move. Not tied up or otherwise restrained. Uninjured but with one hell of a migraine, he was physically fine, but his arms and legs felt weirdly short. As though he'd been shrunk in the wash. Reaching out with the Force, he could feel several of his men around him, though they seemed to be unconscious or deeply asleep.

There was no sign of Grievous, who'd led them into whatever bizarre trap that had turned out to be.

Getting gingerly to his feet and staggering when his balance ended up being a bit off, Obi-Wan looked around and had to swallow hard. Most of his Battalion had karking _vanished_. He identified Cody, Waxer, Boil, Wooley, Crys, Longshot, and their medic Helix (who was still far too used to charging in alongside the first few ranks for Cody's comfort and also still clearly hadn't learned his lesson) by their armour markings. The seven men that’d ended up with him -- the same seven that he'd seen in his Force vision just after they'd landed -- were strewn about on the ground, sprawled flat on their backs like so many rag dolls and looking like they'd been at the epicenter of a blast, for all that their armour was still pristine save for some mud streaking the side and back plating, and their boots. 

He himself felt like he was swimming in his robes, and when he looked down at himself, he groaned. He was a good head shorter than he'd been when he'd last woken up aboard the _Resolute_. His pants were far too wide in the waist and too long in the leg, and it was only due to the weight of his tunics and tabards that they hadn't fallen right off him. He straightened his clothing as best he could, tightening down his belt with a frown and trying his best to keep his robes from getting muddier than they already were, then took a closer look at his men.

They'd seemed fine on first glance, albeit unconscious, but now that he looked more closely all of his men seemed to have shrunk, just as he had. The mere idea was downright bizarre, but he couldn't otherwise explain why the armour they wore was so strangely askew, gauntlets and boots twisted in ways that would normally have indicated terrible injuries. Yet all seven of them read as healthy in the Force.

And that was another thing. The way the Force was reacting to him was worrying. It was so much brighter than he'd ever felt it, all the recent darkness and cloudiness simply _gone_. It was like a heavy veil had been lifted from his eyes, and Obi-Wan had no idea what to think about that.

Shoving those thoughts aside in favour of action, he stumbled over to Cody's side, his own feet sliding awkwardly in his now too-large boots, reaching out with the Force and his hands to make sure his Commander was alright. It didn't take much to rouse Cody, and the first thing he did -- predictably -- was try to fuss over his General and demand to know why Obi-Wan was suddenly smaller.

Which would've been fine under most circumstances, but the sound of his Commander's voice was just startling. He sounded so much _younger_ all of a sudden, and Obi-Wan felt a suspicion growing in the back of his mind that he hoped like kriffing hells was wrong.

The sound of his own voice all but made Cody recoil in shock, and then Obi-Wan suddenly had a panicking Commander in his arms, clinging to him with desperate adrenaline-fueled strength and his breathing going irregular under the weight of his emotions. Small, almost pained whimpers escaped him despite his best efforts to keep silent, and the buzz of his emotions grew to almost overwhelming levels.

Trying to soothe Cody enough to at least steady his breathing, Obi-Wan didn't realise it at first when the sounds of Cody's distress roused the others, who very obviously didn't register much of anything beyond a familiar voice that was crying out for help and comfort before they reacted, reflexively reaching out to him.

That was one of the things Obi-Wan admired most about the clones as a group. They never hesitated to help one another, no matter what the problem was. No questions asked. And, in most cases, no worries for the consequences to themselves.

The lot of them tried to stand, got caught up in their own armour to the point where they had to take it off to be able to move, and realised they'd all been affected by whatever it was, themselves.

The realisation rushed over him a second time, hitting home all harder with the repetition. _Sith-spit, we're all... tiny._

After that, Obi-Wan found himself at the center of a pile of little bodies that were very protectively pressed against him and his Commander, even as they sought comfort of their own, the lot of them feeling like a ship with an engine warble, in the Force.

For all his usual calm and equanimity, even in the face of the Council or General Grievous, Obi-Wan had very little in the way of walls that could protect him from the potent mix of fear, worry, and helplessness that his men felt. The emotional barrage ripped him right along with them.

It took them all a while to calm down.

Once they were more or less recovered from the shock, Helix insisted on checking them over, standing firm in the face of their protests that they felt fine. In the Force, they definitely felt a karking hell of a lot more stable now, Obi-Wan had to admit.

But Helix stood firm. Sure, they felt fine now, but they'd all just collectively had a panic attack. That wasn't anything to just brush off. And besides, they needed to know what they were dealing with. How old were they now? What did they remember about what had hit them? Were they likely to face any more bizarre complications later? He didn't have much kit with him, so that could very quickly become critical, if it became an issue.

Faced with that argument, the troopers sighed and gave in with as much grace as they could muster. After all, Helix was right. Obi-Wan held out longer. He tried to protest that they could find a clinic to do the check for them, and that way Helix could get checked out, too. But Cody, predictably, sided with their medic, as he almost always did.

A bit grumpy about being coerced into getting checked out twice within the same rotation, Obi-Wan promised himself he'd get his revenge the first time Cody tried to hide an injury of any kind, but stopped arguing. Thankfully, the check didn't take long. There was only so much Helix could do with his field kit, and they truly were all fine bar some minor scrapes, bruises and a shallow cut or two caused by trying to move in their outsized armour.

It took a little while and a few bacta patches, but once Helix was satisfied Obi-Wan could feel the lot of them relax. The sudden release of the tension that had been running through his men left Obi-Wan feeling oddly tired and empty.

Cody and the others set up a tiny camp using the minimal supplies they'd brought with them, while Obi-Wan tried to comm Anakin, opting to make a nest out of their bedrolls in a sheltered hollow between what Obi-Wan assumed were the local equivalent of trees. After seven attempts to make his comm link connect to the frequency he knew was Anakin's, and a couple of unsuccessful attempts to reach out over their as-yet-unbroken training bond, Obi-Wan had to admit -- at least to himself -- that they might be in real trouble.

"Any luck?" Cody asked him, stepping up to stand beside him.

"No," Obi-Wan sighed, "and I can't raise him through the Force, either, which is worrying. I fear we may be in for a tougher trip home than I initially thought."

Cody scoffed. "That's hardly unusual, sir," he said, then very firmly turned Obi-Wan toward the nest they'd built and pushed him down to sit in the middle of another protective little pile of warm bodies while they passed around ration bars and water.

The seven of his men were still in their (now also vastly oversized) blacks, and those at the outer edges of the group were fighting to find a way to adjust the sizes of their gear without damaging it, in the hopes that whatever this was wore off sometime soon.

And then they started planning. Obi-Wan always wanted to scoff whenever anyone called him a tactical genius. His troopers outclassed him by lightyears; within minutes, they had taken stock of what they'd brought with them in their kit, then worked out what they'd need if the lot of them were going to be stuck wherever they were until Anakin could come get them and how long they could hold out under the current conditions, and come up with some ideas on how to manage the situation. The hardest thing would be to figure out where they were. They had no idea what star system they were in, but it sure kriffing wasn’t the one they'd just been on, chasing Grievous.

When the local sun rose, they decamped efficiently. It took the troopers a bit of creativity to work out how to deal with their armour. They couldn't wear it, but refused to discard it, so each set got carefully stacked and crammed into the upper half of the corresponding set of blacks for easier transport. The many layers of Jedi robes Obi-Wan was wearing -- which were now too big for his frame -- had suddenly come in handy as well.

All seven of his men had protested, loudly, but eventually accepted his decision when he'd threatened to make it a command. Obi-Wan felt decidedly underdressed and awkward in nothing but his leggings, boots, tabards and undertunic, but he wasn't about to karking allow his men to make any kind of march half naked. He hadn't had seven layers of clothing to give them but his long cloak had been enough material for three of the clones to fashion a rudimentary kind of wrap out of, and his overtunic had met a similar fate.

In the process, he was treated to the sight of rather more of his troopers' skin than he was used to seeing. It simply wasn't usual, not that any of them was the sort to be all that body shy. What caught Obi-Wan's attention rather more than anything else was the fact that a lot of their scars and what he suspected were newer injuries had vanished. Perhaps the most jarring change was the fact that Cody was missing the scar at his left temple. That was just... strange. He'd gotten so used to seeing it, to using it as a sort of visual worry stone, looking at it and wondering where Cody'd gotten it, even as he knew he'd never ask the question. It was far too personal for him to dare. And the appearances of the rest of the men were similarly changed -- a fact which made Helix rather twitchy and unhappy, and prompted him to check over a couple of them again -- though somehow they'd kept their tattoos and most of their other distinguishing marks. 

And then, once they were as 'dressed' as they were going to get, they set out, following Obi-Wan with a degree of trust that he still wasn't sure he deserved.

With nothing but the Force to guide them, it took them several hours to come across even the faintest traces of civilization, but when they did what they found was another shock in a surprisingly long series of them.

Cody, who'd taken point briefly, suddenly came face-to-helmet with someone wearing mandalorian _beskar’gam_ \-- Obi-Wan had to fight not to react, recognising the design of the armour as one of the two sets in his vision -- and immediately reached for his blaster, startled, though he didn't draw it.

Yet.

The mandalorian was in their mid teens, judging by their height, their gender impossible to determine through their armour, and well-armed. Also definitely shocked to see them, though Obi-Wan had no idea why until the teen called over his shoulder, “ _Buir_ , I thought you said this planet was uninhabited other than by the locals.”

His tone was wary, but not yet hostile. Probably because no one had attacked him.

A second mandalorian in full armour came into view and Obi-Wan recognised this man's set of _beskar’gam_ , as well. Both of these people were clearly important figures in his future and his troopers'. Or might become such.

“It should be, _ad_ ,” the newcomer said slowly before he turned to Obi-Wan, as the oldest of the group. “Who are you? How did you find us?” He approached them and gave the impression that he was studying them carefully, cataloguing them. Obi-Wan could almost feel the man's eyes lingering on the _Vod'e_ , on Crys' dyed blond hair, on Longshot's facial tattoo (subtle by trooper standards), on Helix's clearly labeled field medical kit, on Wooley's complete _lack_ of obvious distinguishing marks, on Waxer and Boil's matching ink, placed on their inner left elbows, on Cody's scowl and neat regulation haircut... and on the various age-appropriate scars that their lack of correctly sized clothing or armour left revealed to the galaxy. And then it was his turn to be scrutinised.

Looked like they were diving right in at the deep end.

Obi-Wan took a moment to gather his thoughts and attempt to query the Force about potential danger to himself or his men as he offered the stranger a bow. Until he had some idea whom he was dealing with -- who knew if this was a bounty hunter or worse, a member of Death Watch or someone aligned with the Separatists -- he didn't want to give away anything that he couldn't take back.

The Force had little to say about danger, but the way it seemed to wrap warmly around him and encourage him to speak was promising. His troopers, arrayed behind and around him, were buzzing warily, but they weren't inclined towards attack or defense. No, he realised, the seven _Vod'e_ were _curious_.

"Hello there. Call me Ben," he offered, still somewhat cautious, as he edged forward and put himself between Cody and the strangers, getting an irritated growl out of his very protective Commander. "We were stranded here and are looking for a way home. Finding you was pure accident. Any assistance you can offer to get us back off-planet would be appreciated." He paused for a moment, then added. "Could you please tell us where we've landed? Our maps and what navigational aids we have are useless."

The pair of mandalorians exchanged a look that felt like it lasted an eternity. The younger one turned back to Obi-Wan. "This is the Korda system," he said, making Obi-Wan want to swear at length. That was several sectors away from where they'd started.

Cody did swear -- in Mando'a and several other languages Obi-Wan hadn't realised he understood -- and instantly got the attention of the two armoured men.

The older one nodded sharply. "Alright. No more of this verbal dancing. You're staying the night at our camp, and telling us _exactly_ who you are. You," he indicated Obi-Wan, "I don't recognise, but you're travelling with seven _vod'e_ who all look like my _ad_ and speak Mando'a."

Obi-Wan did swear, that time, a cold certainty running through him even as he asked the question. "Who are you, then?"

The younger mandalorian's helmet came off slowly in a move Obi-Wan knew was one no self-respecting _mando'ad_ made unless they were certain they were among friends -- the more conservative _mando'ad'e_ reserved that gesture for family alone -- then the older one's followed, and Obi-Wan could tell by the tenor of his Commander's emotions that Cody was wishing for a thermal detonator just so he could blow something up and work out a little of his stress, at the sight that met their eyes. 

The teen's face was unmistakable. It was the one that each and every clone trooper shared. Dark eyes with sharp eyebrows, and keen intelligence written in every part of his expression. The older mandalorian wasn’t one that Obi-wan recognized, but he could guess who it was. He had the same dark hair as the teen and similar features, though he was probably not a blood relation.

Waxer turned to Boil and quietly put in, "Helix didn't manage to get us high by accident, did he?"

"I didn't give you anything but bacta, _di'kut_ ," Helix muttered back.

Before either of the mandalorians spoke, looking amused at the byplay, Obi-Wan knew what they were going to say. _Kriffing hells, this was a mess._

The teen spoke, "I'm Jango, and my _buir_ is Jaster."

Wishing he had something strongly alcoholic to drink, Obi-Wan nodded. "Pleasure. We'll save the rest of the storytelling until we're at your camp, I think."

Obi-Wan indicated his Commander and what represented a good half of Ghost Company’s officers, "The eight of us seem to be even farther from home than I'd imagined. These are Cody, Waxer, Boil, Longshot, Crys, Wooley and Helix. All of them are members of the Third Systems Army, 7th Sky Corps, 212th Attack Battalion, and under my command."

"You've a kriffing talent for understatement, General," Cody rolled his eyes at him almost audibly. Turning to Jango the Commander asked, "What's the date?"

"Today's the second rotation of the year 948 ARR," he answered, sounding puzzled. "Don't your chronos still work?"

Oh _kriffing sith-hells_. Those strange visions he'd had on landing, as they'd chased Grievous had come partially into focus with the events of the past rotation -- Obi-Wan didn't bother to resist the urge to look up to the stars in a bid for patience -- but the rest still didn't make a whole lot of sense... though, he had to admit, that was only to be expected.

Cody took a steadying breath, even as his tension gradually spread to the rest of the men, "They do, but they seem to be about 30 years fast."

The flat statement got them a pair of incredulous stares, and Longshot groaned. "Kark, you telling me we're not just cadets again, Commander? You telling me we're also kriffing time travellers?"

Waxer and Boil exchanged a look, then chroused, "Karking Force mishaps."

Helix looked like he wanted to turn around and march right back the way they'd come out of sheer frustration, and only stopped when Crys put a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, _vod_ ," Crys reminded their medic. "It's not the first time the General's gotten us into scrapes like this."

Jaster cleared his throat as Jango watched them all in open fascination. "Something tells me," he said, "that this will be a very entertaining evening. General?"

Obi-Wan didn't bother to swallow back a sigh. "It's a long tale, and not one I'd expect anyone to believe. And in any case, given where we are and the date, there are other far more important issues to address than our current situation. We can and will cope with our... size for a few rotations, if need be. You two, however, are in grave danger."

Jango scoffed. "How would you know that?"

"Later, _ad_ ," Jaster said decisively. "First, I believe a meal and some water are required. I doubt they have any supplies beyond what they carry with them."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Unfortunately, your assessment is entirely correct, _Mand'alor_."

Hearing that title, everyone around him went silent -- including his own men -- and Obi-Wan realised that, though his Commander and the others had recognised their template, they hadn't put two and two together yet to work out who his _buir_ was.

After a moment, Jaster simply nodded again. "Come. Our camp isn't far from here."

Jango turned and led the way, while Jaster waited until all eight of them had started walking before following. Cody wound up at his side as always, a reassuring constant amid the changing tides of the war, and the others arranged themselves in pairs behind them. None of them liked having someone they'd never met before at their backs, so Obi-Wan knew the rest of the men were swallowing back their near-instinctive reactions to being marched along like prisoners. And moreover, he knew the only reason they were keeping silent about it was because he and Cody were setting an example.

When they got to the camp, it was empty, which surprised Obi-Wan. "You two are alone here?"

"We prefer it that way," Jaster replied easily. "But make no mistake. Our allies and _aliit_ are not far away."

"If we’d meant to attack, we wouldn't have been hiking out in the open," Cody retorted, a little stung by the implied threat.

"Why do you think you didn't get shot at the moment you were spotted?" Jango asked him wryly. "We know the difference between an attack and a chance meeting."

Obi-Wan decided it was time to step in.

"Can we assist in preparing the meal?" He offered carefully, changing the subject rather blatantly but still a little too stunned by the place and time in which he found himself to care about being a bit less than suave.

Jaster shrugged. "It's simple fare. Add water, and heat."

"Still better than ration bars," Crys replied.

Nodding, Cody added, "We don't have much, but what we do bring with us, we're prepared to share."

A silence fell after those words that had everyone looking at Jaster, who visibly chose his next words carefully. "For a group who is stranded and in need of assistance, you are quick to offer your own. Would that more people in the galaxy had your sense of honour and code of ethics."

"We repay our debts," Cody said simply, and they all lapsed into silence again.

That time it held until after everyone had some food in their hands and had eaten at least a portion of what was offered.

And then Jaster turned to him, making Obi-Wan want to wince away from the intensity in the man's eyes. He'd heard about this man's leadership abilities -- to become _Mand'alor_ , sole leader of the entire Mandalore Sector, was no mean feat in and of itself -- and to be his focus was almost intimidating, even after Obi-wan’s own many exposures to the Council and the Senate.

"Now that we've at least partially satisfied the demands of our stomachs," he said quietly, "I'd like to know the answers to my questions."

Jango nodded, immediately backing up his parent. "You said we were in danger. Explain."

Obi-Wan debated what to say, how to answer, asking the Force for guidance and getting silence in return, then decided to be blunt. "I don't expect you to believe a word I say. After all, I have no proof of any of it and it will likely sound like the ravings of a madman. But if I'm remembering my dates correctly, you are about to embark on a contract with the Korda Defense Force to conduct a rescue operation." He noted the startled expressions their hosts both wore, and nodded. "Thought so. You're walking into a trap. A Death Watch force is hidden somewhere on planet waiting to ambush you, and the Kordans themselves are planning to attack, as well. I don't know the details of how it happened, as those never came up in my studies. I do know that, after this contract, the title of _Mand'alor_ went to your _ad_." He nodded at Jango. The implication was clear. "How I know this ties into our own tale. I have studied this period of history quite extensively. Where ... _when_ are from, the galaxy is at war. A number of star systems decided to leave the Republic and then raised armies, mostly composed of droids, to attack. My men and I were chasing down the Separatists' High General, in the hopes of finally slowing or ending the conflict. In the process, we followed him through the mouth of what appeared to be a cave... and woke up here, approximately..." He looked at his Commander.

"Fifteen standard hours ago, sir," Cody supplied, automatically falling into his usual conversational role. "And younger than usual."

Jango looked skeptical. "That definitely does sound crazy," he said, "but there's no other way you could possibly know about our contract that makes sense. You're not Kordan, and judging by that lightsabre you're carrying, you're not about to take sides easily."

Jaster hummed thoughtfully. "How old were you before your arrival here? You have the air of an experienced fighter."

"I was 35 standard years old." Obi-Wan shrugged and looked down at himself. "Now I look like I'm fourteen again."

"Based on my scans it's about twelve, actually, sir," Helix put in, earning himself a warning hiss and a swat from Longshot.

That made Jango laugh outright. "The rest of you can't be much older than ten, then, right?"

Obi-Wan winced and stared up at the sky for a moment. "That's... something else that will make us sound crazy if we answer it honestly."

"We're clones," Cody picked up the thread without much hesitation, "and we were designed to mature at about twice the rate of a natural born human. As far as we know, no one except our creators can be entirely sure if that'll hold true for our whole lives or just until we're physically mature, and they're not willing to tell us."

"So we're either ten, or about four years old, standard," Waxer chimed in, then paused, seeing the horrified expressions on their hosts' faces.

"Exactly," Obi-Wan said, meeting their eyes with a pained expression. "My sentiments exactly."

"Clones." Jaster repeated, his voice a little faint. "Clones of whom? That goes against Republic law. Who would dare? And why?"

The Force prompted him to speak freely, that time.

Hastily, Obi-Wan signaled his men to keep quiet and let him handle this, using the sign language they'd been trained in for battle. _Silence_ , he requested, _my task_ , and was relieved that not one of his men spoke, even to question the order. "I cannot answer that question fully, as I don't have all pieces of the puzzle, myself, and what I do know is not at all pleasant to speak about. Nor is it the kind of information I'm inclined to share lightly. It could easily get you both killed, and I have no way of knowing whether events will transpire the same way here as in my timeline. Are you certain you want to know what I've learned?" He asked quietly.

"I think," Jaster replied, equally quiet, "that, seeing their eerie resemblance to my _ad_ , I must."

Telling that story took him a while, and required him to reveal his status as a Jedi Master -- which got him some more very startled looks. Ignoring their reactions, Obi-Wan continued, outlining what he knew of Master Sifo-Dyas' actions -- his visions of a future war and how those had spurred him to create a secret clone army for the Republic -- and of his own part in discovering the facilities on Kamino that had handled the cloning and training of the troopers. How the Jango Fett of their timeline had been hired to be the clone template, and how he'd trained the troopers in Mandalorian traditions. Then he spoke of the Jedi and the first battle of Geonosis and the Clone Wars.

As he wrapped up the lengthy tale, Cody wordlessly handed him a full canteen. Gratefully drinking and handing it back, Obi-Wan watched Jaster carefully, then suggested, "Perhaps you would like to sleep or meditate on what I've told you. I realise it's not an easy story to hear, by any stretch of the imagination."

Jango was the one to answer. "We need to contact our allies and _aliit_ and adapt our plans for this contract. Even if that ambush you've told us about doesn't happen, we need a plan for if it _does_."

Jaster nodded. "And if these _vod'e_ are truly clones of my Jango, that makes them part of my family."

The nearly tangible surprise that came from his men on hearing those words -- oh, to be adopted so easily! Obi-Wan thought, a trifle bitterly -- was almost heartbreaking in its innocence. He hesitated to speak, though, unsure of what that meant for them.

"We appreciate the sentiment," Cody answered before Obi-Wan could find the right words, "but we've all barely met, and the eight of us intend to try to get back to our own time. We're needed there."

"And what about our General?" Boil piped up. "You might consider the seven of us family, _aliit_ , but we go where he goes."

All of his men, loyal to a fault and dignified even in their very makeshift attempt at attire, shifted to stand behind him, in a very clear statement of their allegiances.

The near-refusal got them raised eyebrows from both Jango and Jaster, but neither argued the point. Instead, Jaster approached the topic obliquely.

"It's true that the _mando'ad'e_ and the _jetiise_ have historically not had the smoothest of paths to walk together," he said, the words directed at Obi-Wan but very obviously also meant for the clones, "but we are not defined by our pasts, for all that they shape us. You have been open and honest, fair and honourable. I see no reason why your status as a _jetii_ should prevent me or my _ad_ from extending our hands and offering what you should all have had from the start."

And, oh, the sheer _irony_ contained in that statement alone.

Cody nodded decisively, the buzzing in the Force calming somewhat. "We'll think it over, then. I have no immediate objections, beyond our duty to get back to our time."

Obi-Wan agreed with him. "Cody is quite right. We should not rush into that. It would be cruel to everyone involved to allow ourselves to accept the idea of family, of _aliit_ , only to shatter it when we leave for our own time," he said firmly.

Jaster accepted that more or less gracefully, though Jango looked and felt intensely disappointed. This comparatively content and idealistic young man was nothing at all like the ruthless and cynical bounty hunter Obi-Wan recalled from his own timeline. What had happened to him? Had that change been caused by the events that would have unfolded here without their interference -- and still might?

That was a question that likely would never get an answer, Obi-Wan knew.

The discussion ended there and they bedded down for the night, having agreed on a schedule of watches, and soon afterwards Obi-Wan felt his men drifting off, comfortable and warm in their customary tangle of limbs. He found himself lying awake, though, watching the stars wheel overhead in the clear night sky and trying unsuccessfully to relax enough to sleep. Or at least, he did for the first hour or so they spent at the _Mand'alor_ 's camp. After that first hour, a grumbling Cody all but picked him up bodily and dragged him into the warmth and comfort of the pile of _Vod'e_ , who always preferred to be close when they could. Somehow, that made sleep drag him under.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. We tagged "discussion of attachment" for a reason, and the first part of that reason appears in this chapter. Attachment and what that means is talked about _a lot_ in this fic, and lots of characters have different opinions on the matter, even within the Jedi order. It's an ongoing conversation, not a statement of Fact.

\--- POV: Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

Obi-Wan woke to a group of groggy clone troopers sitting up and stretching as the first hints of sunrise lit the camp.

Jango was standing off to one side, watching them with an amused expression and already back in his armour, save the helmet. "None of you has any gear worth mentioning," he said bluntly, "so _buir_ has decided to ask you to keep an eye on our camp. If all goes according to plan, we'll be back at noon for midmeal, and then again at sunset. Standard for a search and rescue mission. _Buir_ and our _aliit_ are waiting for me to join them, so I can't linger. Don't try anything stupid; I'd like to see my _vod'ike_ in one piece at the end of the rotation."

With that declaration hanging in the air behind him, having openly claimed the lot of them as family, he turned and strode off into the underbrush. The men stared after him, their surprise making them go silent and still, even in the Force.

Obi-Wan wanted to sigh. There would be no prying his men away from Jango easily, after that, and he knew it.

Cody scrubbed at his face tiredly. "We're not going to let them run off and leave us here like that, are we, General?" He asked Obi-Wan.

"Hm." Obi-Wan considered that for a moment, but something in the pit of his stomach was trying to tie itself in knots. "I don't doubt for a moment that they're competent warriors, but I have a bad feeling about this."

All of his men knew exactly what that meant, meantime: something was about to go badly wrong, and, even without knowing what it was, they sprang into action, their emotions spiking, before they leveled out into a steady combat-ready hum in seven part harmony. 

"Right. Let's borrow some of Jango's things and get moving," Cody ordered, assessing the possible ways that Jango and Jaster's possible plans could go wrong and making the snap tactical decisions he was uniquely capable of. "We can apologise to him later, but he's got to be alive for us to be able to do that."

"Sir!" The others saluted, and scattered to ransack the campsite as neatly and efficiently as only a group of experienced clone troopers could.

Within minutes, they'd managed to scavenge a mostly complete set of unpainted armour replacement panels -- as many of which as could be made to fit went on Cody, despite the Commander's protests -- and they'd all armed themselves with as much of their own gear as they could comfortably wear or carry -- which meant they were limited to their lighter weapons and a few grenades and droid poppers. Their own armour got neatly stacked on one side of the camp, and then they were lined up and waiting for Obi-Wan to take the lead.

Reaching out with the Force, Obi-Wan frowned slightly. Where had Jango and Jaster gone? He'd gotten a decent read on their Force signatures the evening before, but the pair of them were oddly slippery, as though they knew how to shrug off his touch somehow. Then... There. Without a word, he checked to make sure his lightsabre was secured at his belt, and strode off through the forest around them without hesitation, keeping his senses trained on the trees around them. It would do them no good to blunder into the ambush meant for Jaster and his men, after all. Without their usual armour and carrying far less weaponry than usual, he and his men would be rather vulnerable targets if they happened to be caught off guard.

It took them far longer than Obi-Wan would have liked to find Jaster and his men, and when they did, it wasn't a pretty sight.

Even from a distance, the noise and chaos of battle was familiar, easy to read after nearly one and a half years with the Third Systems Army under his command, and after having run far too many campaigns with the 212th. The smell of ozone and metal surrounded him, and the emotional maelstrom that went with the hail of blasterfire... those were tougher to block out, but he was used to that, too, meantime. No, what left him feeling a little bit off-balance was not having Anakin at his back.

The _Mand'alor_ had clearly intended to swoop in with his dropships, pick up the Kordan security team they'd been asked to rescue while a portion of his men held off any potential attack, and then fly off into the metaphorical sunset after picking Obi-Wan and his men back up.

Instead, the dropships had been shot down by the Kordans, who had somehow sourced an ion cannon, and due to the utter lack of nearby cover to speak of the mandalorians were now being forced to remain inside their disabled ships by a hail of laser fire that they didn't quite dare brave long enough to fire back. The Kordans, sensing that they had their prey pinned down, were advancing at a leisurely pace and Obi-Wan felt the Force prompting him into action.

"Cody? I'll distract the locals. You seven pick off who you can from here. Support Longshot however you think is best and pick a sheltered spot to shoot from, but we need to take out that ion cannon and give Jaster and Jango a chance to get a foothold."

Feeling a fierce grin tug at his lips as he activated his lightsabre and adrenaline started to make his heart pound, Obi-Wan saluted his men, ignored Cody's attempt to protest the orders, the buzz of his Commander's mingled irritation and worry oddly soothing for its predictability and familiarity, then grabbed for the Force, and _leapt_ , already poised to block any incoming blasterfire that came at him.

He landed just outside the nearest of the dropships, getting a surprised exclamation from the men inside, his 'sabre almost a blur to his own eyes as he immersed himself in the Force, letting it show him where the next shots would come from and plan out how to reflect them back at their shooters. Behind him, he heard Jango swearing at him and ignored every word, focused. "Don't just stand there, Jango," he shot back, "I'm trying to get you out of that damned ship!"

"No, you're trying to get yourself killed!" Jango snapped at him. "There are Death Watch snipers up above us on your right, and they'll be targeting _you_ now that you've shown yourself!"

"My men and I can handle them," Obi-Wan replied, glancing up at the ridge to his right, "but not if I have to stick around here waiting for you."

There were indeed five people in armour with the Death Watch sigil blazoned on their chestplates, lined up on the high ground and taking aim at him. Letting himself sink deeper into the Force, Obi-Wan reached out and started blocking their shots, as well.

A moment later, he felt Longshot's outrage and offense slam into him, and then one of the Death Watch snipers slumped.

A second joined the first, another victim of the clone troopers' vicious return fire, as Jango swore at him some more. "We don't have all rotation, Jango," he tried to verbally prod the young _mando'ad_ into moving.

It took another moment that felt like an eternity, as Obi-Wan blocked three more shots, but Jango only paused long enough to take a breath and then Obi-Wan felt him make the decision to trust. "Come on, men, he's right! We can't stay here, or we'll be easy prey!"

The Death Watch snipers, now down a third man -- Cody's kill; Obi-Wan felt his Commander's fierce satisfaction as keenly as though it was his own, deeply immersed in the Force as he was -- finally decided to cut their losses and pulled back from the ridge, leaving the troopers of the 212th free to help him reduce the blasterfire coming at him. 

Longshot kept a watchful eye on the ridge, lest the Death Watch come back to try to shoot Obi-Wan in the back, while Cody and the others began taking pot shots at the men manning the ion cannon and anyone else foolish enough to leave them an open shot. Obi-Wan took the opportunity to start forcing his way over towards the next ship as the mandalorians rushed out behind him and started firing their own blasters from behind the shield of his lightsabre.

Their progress was slow at first, but they gradually gained momentum, and, once Obi-Wan had planted his feet firmly in front of the next ship, suddenly Jaster was standing just outside the reach of his lightsabre and swearing at him, protectiveness and worry radiating off his posture and in the Force as he took potshots at the Kordans. "I could swear Jango and I told you to keep an eye on the camp, Ben," he growled, his voice coming out of his helmet vocorder somewhat distorted.

"Clearly, that was the wrong decision," Obi-Wan snarked back at him, fighting to keep up with the renewed barrage of blaster fire that came at them once Jaster stepped into view. "Don't lecture me now, help me get the rest of your men out of those ships!"

That was the moment the Kordans decided they needed a new strategy and started to redirect some of their fire so that they could try to take out the distinctly smaller force on their flank, making Obi-Wan swear, torn. He couldn't abandon his current position without leaving Jaster and Jango very badly exposed, but his men needed him. "Find some cover," he snapped, "I need to make sure my men are alright." 

And, yes, he was letting his attachment to the group of _Vod'e_ and knowledge of his troops' abilities win out over his duty to their self-imposed mission for the moment, but without them he'd be on his own and he had a duty to them as well.

Jaster shook his head. " _Nayc, ad_ ," he countered, claiming him just as surely as Jango had, earlier, "trust the _verd'ike_ to take care of themselves for a few minutes longer. If we can reach the enemy's lines, we can break them."

It was a bold move -- and a very risky one -- because a charge like that could easily leave them encircled and cut off, but Obi-Wan had to admit it would be a very effective tactic. If it worked.

The Force gave him no clear indication of which decision was the more dangerous to him or his men, so, gritting his teeth against his need to get to Cody and the others, he decided it was his turn to trust, as Jango had. "Fine, gather your men and let's do it!"

Jaster simply nodded, then raised his voice. "Jango! Montross! To me!"

Obi-Wan knew that for the cue it was and Force jumped from where he was right into the midst of the enemy's lines, starting to cut a swathe through them. He left a long line of broken blasters and non-lethal injuries in his wake, which the mandalorians began very efficiently taking advantage of as they followed Jaster and Jango into the fray with shouts of glee, relief, and anger.

What happened next, though, that caught Obi-Wan off guard. A distinct shiver in the Force alerted him before he saw the ten Jedi knights appear out of the trees to their left. _That_ hadn't been in the histories he'd read! Nor had he found any mention of such a mission once he'd been made a master and had unrestricted access to the archives. He'd looked at all of the logged missions of the last fifty years, just to be thorough, when he'd been on the hunt for Kamino's location, and one such as this would _definitely_ have stuck in his memory, after his year-long mission on Mandalore protecting Satine.

"Kriffing hells," he muttered, deactivating his lightsabre as the Jedi calmly walked onto the field of battle and all the blasters on it gradually went silent. Jaster's daring plan had neatly broken the Kordan's line. The fight was already nearly over when the Jedi had stepped onto the field, and it was clear that the sight of ten Jedi showing up out of thin air killed any lingering will to resist nearly immediately.

And then the leader of the group of knights threw back the hood of his cloak and Obi-Wan couldn't help the sheer dismay and _recognition_ that ran through him as the Jedi master demanded, "Initiate, just _what_ are you doing here?"

The Jedi master was a tall human male with sharp, foreboding features and short dark hair that held just a bare hint of grey in it. A smartly trimmed goatee graced his face and his glare was depressingly familiar.

Belatedly realising that he didn't have his braid, and was therefore demoted even further than he'd rather blithely assumed, Obi-Wan swallowed hard. "I would tell you if I could, Master, but I'm at a bit of a loss, myself."

The statement got him a distinctly unamused look. "Come now, the truth, if you please. And your name. I'm afraid I do not recognise you, youngling."

"That's Ben," Jaster stepped up beside him, and Obi-Wan half-heartedly wished he could shut the man up without arousing even more suspicion. "Who are you, Master Jedi?"

"I am Jedi Master Yan Dooku," came the answer Obi-Wan had already known. "On assignment from the Jedi Council. You, I believe, are Jaster Mereel, are you not?"

Jaster straightened. "I am."

"The Council has received reports that you and your men have been planning a hostile take-over of this system," Master Dooku told Jaster, frowning, "and I must warn you that, despite clearly having the support of a wayward initiate behind your actions, it does not appear that those reports are false."

Obi-Wan knew he had to jump in now or things would go off the rails. "But Master, appearances can and sometimes do deceive, as they do here."

Dooku studied him intently. "Hmmm. You believe that to be true, youngling. That much I sense. But there may well be more to the situation than _you_ have seen."

"Master, respectfully, there may also be more than you have seen. I have spent time with the _Mand'alor_ and his son, and my impression is that both are honest, honourable men. I very much doubt that they would stoop to the kind of subterfuge those reports likely describe," Obi-Wan pressed, knowing he risked everything on that one statement. He couldn't reveal just _how_ he knew any of that, so he'd be walking a verbal tightrope in any other answers he gave, and daring to speak thusly to a Jedi Master was very much a gamble for any initiate, no matter how tolerant the Master in question might be.

An armoured hand landed on his shoulder, and Obi-Wan looked up at Jaster in surprise as the _Mand'alor_ added, "Show me these reports, Master Jedi, and I will show you how false they are. I can show you a copy of the contract that I signed. I was hired to run a search-and-rescue mission by the Kordans. The _Mando'ad'e_ have little use for a system as far from our capital as this one, I assure you. Were we truly planning such an act, we would have chosen a planet much closer by and less logistically complex to take and hold. Korda VI has little to offer us."

It took another long few moments for Dooku to nod, expression unreadable and his eyes lingering on the hand Jaster had yet to remove from Obi-Wan's shoulder. "It seems a more thorough investigation is indeed needed."

That was the moment Cody and the others picked to approach them. "Sir," his Commander asked him, the buzz of his emotions clearly telegraphing his wariness as he edged in close to the shoulder opposite the one Jaster still gripped a bit protectively, and immediately got Dooku's full attention, "is that who I think it is?"

Jedi Master Yan Dooku was the man who had -- in their timeline, at least -- become Count Dooku, leader of the Separatists and a Sith apprentice.

Obi-Wan recognised the tone Cody used when he thought Obi-Wan was being far too slow in taking down an enemy. "Yes, Cody. Peace, we need to know more about the lay of the land."

Dooku's eyes seemed to glitter as he watched their interaction intently, curious and observant.

"I don't like this, sir," his Commander said, then fell carefully silent as the remaining six clones approached them, their weapons holstered and their makeshift clothing rather more tattered than it had been that morning. None of them seemed to be injured though, and Obi-Wan swallowed back his sigh of relief.

" _Mand'alor_ ," Dooku said after a moment, "I trust you have an explanation for allowing these younglings onto the battlefield."

"I did _not_ allow it, Master Jedi," Jaster retorted. "They disobeyed my orders, and we will be having words about that later. You may count on it."

The _Mand'alor_ turned to his men, and started issuing orders. "Jango, take the _verd'ike_ with you and pack up our camp. We'll not be lingering here once we've spoken to the _jetiise_ and cleared up this matter. Montross, you and your men are to see if you can get our dropships operational again and report back to me on your progress in an hour. If we can't get them in the air, I shall need the assistance of this Master to negotiate some kind of repairs or passage off this system."

"Sir!" Jaster's men snapped to attention behind Montross, then scattered to attend to the dropships without another word. Jango nodded a bit reluctantly, clearly hesitant to leave his _buir_ and Obi-Wan alone with the newcomers, then caught Cody's eyes with a tilt of his helmet and started walking, expecting the Commander to follow.

Cody, stubborn as ever, refused to budge from his General's side. "Waxer, Boil, take the others and go with Jango. I'm staying here."

Jaster growled a few curses under his breath in Mando'a.

Obi-Wan intervened, before the volatile emotions could cause the situation to explode. "Cody, we'll be fine. The Jedi are not known to attack without provocation," he said pointedly. "The _Mand'alor_ and Master Dooku will get to the bottom of this, but as it appears that both he and the Order have been deceived, there should not be any need for more than discussion between us."

Dooku gave him an incredulous look. "You are wise beyond your years, Initiate. And your assessment mirrors mine, thus far," he said to Obi-Wan. Then he turned to Cody and added, "There is no need to worry, youngling. Go with your brothers."

Cody wavered for another few moments, then, having been given the same orders by no less than two Jedi Masters and the _Mand'alor_ , finally gave in. "If you're wrong about this, sir, I'll kill you myself."

Jaster snorted, but Obi-Wan could feel his amusement. "I won't let anything happen to Ben. Get going, _ad_."

Growling under his breath about idiots and foolhardiness, Cody went.

Dooku watched him go, then said. "Their loyalty to one another and their sense of honour does you credit, _Mand'alor_. But come, we have other more pressing matters to discuss. Have you a place where we might sit together without being easily overheard?"

"The only such place I can offer would be aboard one of our dropships," Jaster replied with a wry smile in his voice. "If that's acceptable to you, we can use one of the cockpits so that we have some privacy and do not disrupt the repairs much."

The Force prodded at Obi-Wan, but gave him no indication of what he should do.

Dooku considered the offer. "Does one of those dropship cockpits fit three? I feel the Initiate should join us."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to think about that request. He'd never truly met Master Dooku before the Clone Wars had thrust him into the position of Jedi High General and they'd become adversaries, but the man standing before him was no Sith. Grey, certainly, but still of the Light.

Jaster shrugged, exaggerating the movement so that it would be visible through his _beskar'gam_. "It will be tight, but I think we can manage that. Ben is small enough."

That sentence made Obi-Wan scowl, and he could almost see Jaster's teasing smirk through the helmet the _Mand'alor_ wore. Hmph. It figured.

Thankfully, Master Dooku didn't comment on the indignation Obi-Wan was certain could be felt in the Force. "That is acceptable. I must retrieve my datapad from my ship. I shall rejoin you here momentarily."

With that, he efficiently gathered up two of his impatiently waiting knights, instructed the rest to ensure that no further fighting broke out, and left the field.

Jaster watched them go, then turned to Obi-Wan and said, "You didn't mention the Jedi."

"I had no idea they would be here," Obi-Wan answered in kind, keeping his voice low enough not to carry. "It's disquieting. The Council authorises all missions that specifically require a Jedi Master. There are not that many of us, and such a deployment always goes on record at the Temple, lest someone get captured or worse without our knowledge. The only exceptions to this rule are emergency missions that come directly from the Senate and therefore require the utmost secrecy and discretion. So for them to be here, and there to have been no record of it when I came from..."

"I hate Senate politics," Jaster grumbled. "But that theory definitely fits the information we currently have, Ben."

"That's what worries me." Obi-Wan bit back a frustrated sigh.

They stood side-by-side in silence after that, waiting for Dooku to come back.

Jango and the _Vod'e_ got to them first, the contents of the camp packed up and ready to be stowed aboard the dropships, and simply arranged themselves at their respective commanders' backs in silence. 

Then Jaster surprised them all once again. The _Mand'alor_ turned to look around at the _verd'e_ who were watching them curiously, then faced Obi-Wan and the group of _Vod'e_ at his back and said, "Before the _jetii_ comes back, there is one more thing that I must do, _ad'ike_. To make this formal… legal. _Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad_ — Ben, Cody, Waxer, Boil, Wooley, Longshot, Crys, Helix."

Obi-Wan could feel Jango beaming at them from behind the faceplate of his helmet. "Welcome to the family _vod'ike_."

His men, stunned speechless, simply stared at Jaster for a few seconds, and then the lot of them were clinging to Jaster's armoured waist almost desperately, all decorum tossed merrily out the nearest airlock, a mixture of joy, disbelief, and sorrow pouring off them that was making Obi-Wan feel like his skin might come right off his body with the intensity of emotion he could sense.

Cody, born leader that he was, spoke up first, awe in his voice. " _Buir_ , you honour us."

Jaster didn't bother to respond verbally, simply wrapping an arm around Cody's shoulders and holding him tightly.

Jango stepped up to Obi-Wan, and dropped an arm across his shoulders. "What are you waiting for, _vod'ika_?" He asked, grin audible in his voice. "Go greet your _buir_ properly."

"I--" Obi-Wan faltered, and swallowed hard around the way his throat was trying to close. "I should, yes."

 _Oh, to be adopted that easily!_ He mused again, an incredulous smile tugging at his lips, and this time it wasn't bitter at all. He waited until Jango had let him go, and then carefully wedged himself into the hug, a bit tentative until his men latched onto him as well.

They stayed like that for another few moments, and then, with a quiet sigh, they parted and went back to where they'd been standing before Jaster had turned their collective world upside down.

"Master Dooku will likely fight this move," Obi-Wan felt compelled to say, though he kept his voice low. "Jedi do not have families, even if they leave the Temple for the Service Corps."

There were exceptions. Ki-Adi-Mundi. Possibly Anakin, if his suspicions were correct.

But for an initiate to be adopted by a Mandalorian was unprecedented.

Obi-Wan could almost hear the Council's shouts of outrage already.

Jaster simply shrugged. "Mandalore is not part of your Republic. We are not required by law to give up our _ad'e_ to the _jetiise_ ," he pointed out, his tone bordering on smug.

That was-- Obi-Wan stared at the _Mand'alor_ , seeing the man in a new light. That sort of ability to think on one's feet was rare. He almost had to have been planning this ever since he'd laid eyes on Cody and the men.

And now there was likely to be an Incident between Jaster and Master Dooku.

Pinching at the bridge of his nose and forcing down the sigh he felt trying to boil up from the pit of his stomach, Obi-Wan resigned himself to his fate. There were worse things, after all, than having a family, and he'd already reached the rank of Jedi Master once. He felt no urgent need to repeat the experience, assuming they were well and truly stuck in the past.

There were plenty of unpleasant memories bound up in the idea, for that matter, slotted in right alongside the probable tedium and the consternation that having his troopers tag along would have caused the Jedi Council and whatever Master was willing to accept him.

If there even was one.

No one had wanted to take him on as a padawan, and he'd wound up on Bandomeer before Master Qui-Gon had agreed to apprentice him. Not that that partnership had been all sunshine and happiness. For all that he'd respected and cared for his master, for all that he'd been near devastated when Darth Maul had killed him, a part of him had deeply resented Qui-Gon's willingness to send him merrily off to take his Trials just so that Anakin could replace him.

And here was a near-complete stranger, willing to take him in despite the tension between his people and the Jedi. Choosing him. Wanting him to join his clan.

That was worth more than anything Obi-Wan could imagine, save having Anakin back at his side, and he intended to fight to keep it.

The thought was like a splash of cold water to the face.

Anakin. Right. They needed to get back to Anakin, who was sure to be frantic.

He couldn't assume they were truly stuck here, he reminded himself. Less than two rotations in the past and he was willing to throw everything he was aside? What was he even doing?

Torn, Obi-Wan tried to shove all those whirling thoughts back out of his mind. He had to be as calm as he could manage when Dooku reappeared, lest he give away far more than he meant to.

Naturally, the moment he thought about the man, he appeared as though summoned. " _Mand'alor_ ," Master Dooku greeted Jaster, "I see your little tribe of younglings has returned."

"They have. Are you ready to resolve this mystery?" Jaster tilted his head just enough to indicate the nearest dropship.

Obi-Wan steeled himself for what was liable to turn into an interrogation the moment Jaster and Master Dooku had worked out how both of them had been so easily misled. Dooku would not allow this opportunity to speak to him to pass by without comment. And the confrontation over who would get to take him home would likely be a tense one.

He tried to think quickly as he followed his _buir_ and Dooku into the dropship and towards the cockpit, and Jango and the _Vod'e_ followed them in turn. He would need to make the decision himself: stay with Jaster or go to the Temple in Coruscant with Master Dooku in the hopes that the Jedi could help send them back?

If they were truly stuck without any option to get back to their proper place in the timeline, his choice would be Jaster, and he knew better than to lie to himself about it. There were far too many points in favour of doing so.

Not only could he help stabilise Mandalore, but he had the detailed knowledge of the Sith Lord's past (or should that be current?) machinations that would mean he, as someone officially unaffiliated with the Jedi, could act to counter them, whereas the Jedi themselves could not, as deeply embroiled in Senate politics and willfully blind as they were. Mandalore might not be part of the Republic, but it commanded respect, and if he could deal with Death Watch now, they would not be able to disrupt the political side of the Clone Wars later. The list just went on and on.

In fact, odds were good he was already at the Temple, in this timeline -- assuming he hadn't somehow destroyed himself with his appearance. Although, no, he couldn't have done that, or he would never have made it to the future and gotten here in the first place. Ugh. That line of thinking was giving him a headache. Obi-Wan briefly wondered what it would be like to meet himself -- it felt as though they had to be about the same age right now, for all that there were still at least seven physical years and decades of experience separating them -- then shook off the thought for possible consideration later.

All time paradox issues that meeting could potentially cause aside, he had other things to worry about in the meantime. Like mediating this conversation between Master Dooku and the _Mand'alor_. He wasn't getting one of his bad feelings about it, though, much to his relief.

Maybe he could choose both options? Maybe he could go with Jaster and also convince Master Dooku to help him and his _Vod'e_ get back to their proper time?

Maybe.

Dooku hadn't Fallen, in this time, and seemed to at least be willing to listen to what he thought was a bold little initiate with Opinions.

As the cockpit door loomed in front of him, Obi-Wan caught Cody's attention. _Hold positions here,_ he signed, sure his Commander would be unhappy with him at the reminder, _do not follow. We have no casualties and need intel. I scout._

Without waiting for an acknowledgment from his Commander, he took a leap of faith and hoped the Force would catch him.

Jaster and Master Dooku settled themselves in the two available chairs, and Jaster pointedly made sure Obi-Wan was standing behind him and to his right with the cockpit door closed, before he spoke. "Well, Master Jedi," he said, his tone carefully level, "the simplest course of action here would be to simply exchange datapads and read through the relevant documents before we discuss anything."

"That is a very pragmatic approach," Dooku agreed with a nod and held out the datapad he'd gone to retrieve, "very well."

Silence reigned for nearly ten long minutes that seemed to stretch out into infinity. Obi-Wan tried to read over his _buir_ 's shoulder, but he didn't learn much of anything new. The reports Master Dooku had been handed were very vague, but written in such a way that a coup was very heavily implied nonetheless. And given the scene that Master Dooku had found on his arrival, had he and his _Vod'e_ not been there... Obi-Wan stifled a wince. The Jedi might very well have intervened with lethal force on the behalf of the Kordans.

Once they were both satisfied that they had learned what they could, Jaster and Dooku traded datapads again.

Jaster took a breath and broke the silence that had hung between them all. "What do you think about all of this, Master Jedi?"

"I think the wise youngling you watch over so protectively is entirely correct; someone is trying to manipulate us both, with the intent to injure or kill," Master Dooku answered, his tone of voice grave and his cadence measured. "However, there is no indication in either of these documents as to who it might be."

With a nod, Jaster simply said, "I concur. What will your Council's response to this be?"

"Clearly, they must attempt to determine who was behind this. The Order must not allow its reputation for neutrality to be compromised by politics," the Master replied, and Obi-Wan couldn't quite contain his stunned surprise on hearing his own opinions coming from the man he knew only as leader of the Separatists. That made Dooku glance his way, seeming to be amused and almost knowing, before he continued. "However, that will be a difficult and lengthy process, given the convoluted nature of the Senate's fluctuating alliances of convenience and its daily operations."

Not to mention the sheer scale of the task. There were literally tens of thousands of worlds in the Republic, and the number of different species was even more numerous.

"Senate politics," Jaster muttered in disgust.

Dooku did smile, then, a small flicker of a thing. "Hm, I agree entirely with the sentiment, _Mand'alor_. However, for those of us in the Order that is a necessity of life and a defining aspect of our existence. Whether we like it or not." He turned to Obi-Wan, then, taking a long look at him and gently prodding at his shields with the Force. "But what do you think about all this, Initiate?"

Caught off guard at being asked for his opinion, Obi-Wan hesitated. Was this a test? Had Dooku somehow worked out who he was? "I don't know enough about the political situation, Master," he tried to demur. "To attempt to render any sort of judgment would be foolish."

Obi-Wan could feel Jaster's approval and a hint of pride, but his focus was on Master Dooku, who was considering him the way a predator might a juicy snack.

"A very wise youngling indeed," Dooku repeated, then turned his attention back to Jaster. "You must know that I am required to return our initiate to the Temple on Coruscant, now that he has been found," he said. "He must be trained, as the level of power I sense in him is quite high."

The Force, almost singing in its enthusiasm, prompted him to speak -- to act. Obi-Wan bowed to him as best he could in the cramped space, and interjected, before Jaster's hackles could go up. "Master, that will not be necessary. I require no further training."

Dooku stared at him, disbelieving. "Initiate, you are perhaps ten standard years old. Your training has not even properly begun. You must be apprenticed to a knight or a master and learn how to use your senses. How not to be overwhelmed by them."

"I am rather older than that, Master Dooku," Obi-Wan retorted, scowling at the reminder of his apparent age, "and I have already served my apprenticeship. The tale is a strange one, however, and I doubt you will accept my word for it without proof."

Jaster's hand went to his arm, and Obi-Wan knew his _buir_ wanted him to stop speaking. He carefully and pointedly ignored the hint; Obi-Wan trusted the Force to guide him. "I can and will offer you what proof you feel you need, but the underlying truth is that, through some odd event that I have never before witnessed or read about, even in my time, the Force sent me and several of my men thirty years into the past. In my own time, I had attained the rank of master."

Obi-Wan could almost hear Jaster mentally swearing at him for offering up exactly what Jaster suspected Dooku wanted desperately: a chance to prove Obi-Wan wrong and steal him away.

"Master Jedi," the _Mand'alor_ spoke up, "if you wish to take Ben with you, there are a few other things you must know. First, those men he spoke of will insist on going with him. You will not dissuade them, and if you try to separate them from Ben there will be a literal riot. Second, and more importantly, Ben and his men are my _ad'e_ and Mandalore is under no compulsion to submit to having its children ripped from their families by your Temple."

Considering that for a moment, Dooku shrugged. " _Mando'ad_ or not, Ben has offered to prove his skill and ability to me. While I certainly do not credit his crazy tale of having attained the rank of Jedi Master -- though I sense he believes it to be true -- it is clear that there is something very different about him and his Force signature. In the event that he needs training, some arrangement will need to be made. And, make no mistake, there is a very good reason for my concern, _Mand'alor_. Force sensitivity is more of a curse than a blessing, if one cannot control the abilities it grants, and given that the initiate has already built a lightsabre, it is clear that he has spent enough time as part of the Order to make the trip to Ilum and build one. A single lost initiate might not concern the Council overly, but I feel that is the wrong stance to take on the matter."

Obi-Wan's confidence in his decision had been growing with every word Master Dooku spoke, bolstered by the fact that the opinions that the Jedi Master was airing were very nearly revolutionary, even in comparison to the Temple politics of his own timeline. Maybe this truly _could_ work out in everyone's favour.

"What proof do you want, Master Dooku?" He asked quietly, "A spar?"

The Master considered that. "There is far more to being a Jedi than lightsabre combat," he answered, "but a spar would prove mastery of your senses and your weapon, at least. Very well. You will be tested against one of the knights accompanying me."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan grinned, entirely confident in his fighting skills.

Jaster growled a few imprecations under his breath. "Don't do anything foolish, _ad'ika_ ," he told Obi-Wan sternly. "Your _vod'e_ will be upset."

As would he, Obi-Wan filled in. "Of course not, _buir_ ," he answered.

"Come, then, let us satisfy our eavesdroppers that we are all unharmed," Master Dooku said and stood, taking the initiative to open the cockpit door.

And, now that he looked for them in the Force, Obi-Wan could feel his men's chagrin at being caught even as their postures visibly relaxed, shoulders coming down and lines of tension around their mouths easing now that they had eyes on him again and knew he was fine. Or, at least, as fine as they'd ever believe he was.

Jaster simply shook his head. "All of you know better than that, _ad'ike_ ," he chided. "Had we been discussing anything truly sensitive, that kind of action would require punishment."

Jango looked over from where he'd positioned himself next to the sliding side door of the dropship -- where he'd been guarding the clones' backs while they fretted, whether they fully trusted him to do that or not, Obi-Wan realised -- and spoke up. "They'll acclimate, just as I did, _buir_. They're still on edge."

The words made Obi-Wan glance at him sharply. Cody and the others must've truly been worried if they were willing to let someone as relatively unknown to them as Jango see it, genetic template and freshly adopted brother or no. And he couldn't deny that having them back in line-of-sight was making him feel better as well.

Dooku's expression didn't change, but Obi-Wan could feel the mixture of renewed curiosity and amusement in the Force. "Come, then," he requested instead, then stepped back off the dropship and into the gradually fading sunlight. He turned to the group of his accompanying Jedi knights who were watching them in open fascination. "Knight Koth," the master called out, surprising Obi-Wan with the familiar name as he followed the Jedi Master out of the ship, "this initiate's combat skills must be tested, and I would have your assistance in the matter."

Seeing the younger version of his fellow Council member was a bit of a shock to him. The lithe, deceptively delicate looking frame of the future Master betrayed nothing of the powerful Jedi he had yet to become. Eeth stepped forward and pushed back his hood before removing his cloak entirely. "As you wish, Master Dooku."

Eeth turned to him, then, and smiled. "What is your name, then, youngling?"

"Ben Kenobi," Obi-Wan bowed to him. "Knight Koth."

"Have you ever sparred like this before, youngling?" Eeth asked him, as though ready to instruct him in the formalities.

"Yes, I have." Pulling his lightsabre from his belt, Obi-Wan fell into a ready position and waited.

Eeth smiled to see the silent signal, and Obi-Wan overheard one of his men -- Longshot perhaps -- say to Jango, "I'll wager you three rotations worth of cooking duty that the Knight loses in under two minutes."

Jango scoffed. "You're on."

He could feel Jaster standing beside Master Dooku, nerves seeming to flow off him and into the Force like rainwater off a boulder -- despite having seen Obi-Wan defend them in the skirmish with the Kordans not three hours ago -- and his troopers radiating glee as they watched things unfold.

Their faith in him was like a clear flame on a dark night, and it made Obi-Wan grin as Eeth powered on his lightsabre and saluted him with it. Following suit, Obi-Wan immersed himself in the currents of the Force and did the same, readying himself.

Eeth didn't disappoint. He began with a few careful strikes, all of them very obviously intended to gently probe Obi-Wan's defenses. He blocked them all, almost without thought, then simply swiped the lightsabre out of Eeth's hands with a sharp twist of his own weapon. The move left the point of his sabre leveled at Eeth's chest -- it would have been his opponent's neck had he been his usual height, Force take it -- and Eeth surrendered.

"Solah, initiate," he said, calling his sabre back to his hand when Obi-Wan immediately backed off. "Well done."

"Well done, indeed," Dooku agreed, "but any student may get lucky."

Picking up on the unspoken demand, Obi-Wan shrugged and fell back into a ready stance as he listened to Longshot ask Jango, "Double or nothing?" and Crys snickered at Jango's slightly irritated growl of, "Not a chance".

Their second spar was far faster and more aggressive than the first, but even so it was still over in less than the two minutes Longshot had quoted, leading to his men laughing and cheering him loudly, unashamed of their enthusiasm.

Eeth took it with good humour. "Impressive. You will make someone a padawan to be proud of, Initiate."

Obi-Wan bowed to him. "I thank you for the compliment, Knight Koth. Master Dooku, I have heard of your skill with a blade. It would be an honour, should you grant me a spar."

He heard the startled sounds that came from everyone in earshot but his own men, and added, "Knight Koth is a fine swordsman, but I could not in good conscience use all my skills against him in a fair fight." 

One of the other Jedi knights muttered, "Is he insane?" in tones that implied he hadn't meant for it to be audible. Obi-Wan ignored the words in favour of watching Dooku consider, then give in to his own curiosity with a nod.

"Very well, youngling. Let us see your true mettle, then." Master Dooku didn't hesitate after that. He stripped off his own cloak in efficient movements and took the few steps needed to stand in front of Obi-Wan.

Another salute, and they were off.

Dooku started out tentative, testing his responses just as Eeth had, but it didn't take him long -- after Obi-Wan very nearly managed to disarm him as well -- to start putting a little more effort into the match.

Pleased to have a sparring partner he could truly let loose against for the first time in years, a Force unclouded by darkness flowing through him and guiding his movements, Obi-Wan enjoyed each and every step up in difficulty. Relished them.

Dooku tested him with attacks from all seven forms, his movements getting more precise and harder with each form that Obi-Wan countered flawlessly. Time flowed around him rather than touching him -- as it always did when he was this deeply immersed in the Force, this sharply focused -- but he knew the match had already gone on for far longer than his opponent had expected it to.

He matched Dooku blow for blow, until they wound up corps-à-corps unexpectedly. 

The Master caught his eyes, then stepped back, saluting him. "I believe this match is a draw, Initiate," he said, sounding almost stunned, "and I have the proof you freely offered me."

Obi-Wan was shocked, himself, when the Master bowed to him -- rather more deeply than he'd have expected even had he still had his own rank of master officially -- and scrambled to reciprocate. His troopers all but physically vibrated with their glee and the satisfaction that their faith in him was justified.

"I would dearly love to linger and learn more about your curious history, youngling, but I must swiftly return to the Temple to pursue what few leads we have about this deception," Master Dooku told him, and gave the troopers a bemused glance. "The Council will doubtless send someone to evaluate you further, but I no longer have any doubt that what you've told me about your skill is true."

"Safe travels, Master Dooku," he replied in kind. "I hope you and the Council find the answers you seek. And if, perhaps, the Council chooses to send you to do this evaluation, I would value the chance to discuss certain other aspects of what has happened to bring us here. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, youngling." Master Dooku turned to Jaster. "Have your men successfully repaired your ships, _Mand'alor_?"

"Not all of them could be without replacement parts we do not have or far more time than it would be worth investing, but we have enough seats aboard the space-worthy ships to get everyone off-planet," Montross reported in Jaster's place, since he hadn't yet had the chance to give his leader the information. "Luckily, we don't make a habit of cramming our dropships so full that we can't get everyone back home in the event that we lose one or two of them."

"I am very glad to hear that. Fare you well, then, and may we meet again as friends." Dooku gathered up his Knights with a gesture, and the group of them followed him back toward the remnants of the Kordan forces, presumably to interrogate them before they left the planet.

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Jaster let out a slow breath and leaned on the door frame, gazing in towards the pile of sleeping _ad'e_. They'd been in hyperspace long enough for nearly everyone to head off to their sleep cycle. 

The trip to Mandalore would take a couple of rotations. Jaster found he was grateful for it. For himself, because he wanted, _needed_ , the time to wrap his head around everything that had happened. For his new _ad'e_ , because they clearly needed the quiet as well.

Such strange children.

Well. Not really children. Ben had explained that they were from the future, de-aged and traveled across the years for some unknown purpose. Jaster believed him. But it didn't change the fact that whoever they used to be, these people were children _now_. 

Children who fought like seasoned war veterans. Children who looked at every shadow like it was a threat and guarded each other like their lives were at stake. 

Children who had been so unabashedly _happy_ to have _someone_ claim them. Including Ben. Jaster hadn't missed the blatant shock on his face when he'd been adopted along with his _vod'e_. Nor had he missed the desperate joy that had followed. 

Ben didn't expect to be wanted.

None of them did.

The thought made Jaster's blood boil. What the kriff were the _jetiise_ even doing for a Master of their Order to look like that? And his _ad'e_ , his poor _ad'e_. Clones of Jango raised for nothing but war. Given no childhood at all and no future beyond the expectation of eventual death in battle. No wonder they were so close knit. All they had was each other.

Each other, and apparently Ben. 

The bond between them was unmistakable. Odd, if only because it was between a _jetii_ and a group of _mando'ad'e_. That didn't seem to matter to them, though. If any of the children noticed the looks that the rest of the _mando'ad'e_ aboard the ship gave them, they ignored them.

Somehow, Jaster was certain that they'd noticed. 

Despite their wariness, the group of them had relaxed enough to pull two mattresses off of the bunks, shove them together on the floor, and then sleep in a giant pile. Just like they had last night at Jaster and Jango's camp. 

Jaster had definitely gotten a few looks from the other _mando'ad'e_ on his ship over _that_. He'd just stared right back. He knew that his people were feeling much the same things that he was.

Astonishment and pride over how competent these children were. Worry and unhappiness at younglings doing such dangerous things. Ten year olds shouldn't have to worry about death lurking around every corner. 

If Jaster hadn't gotten there first, he knew damn well that there would have been a squabble among the rest of his people for the honor of adopting these _ad'e_. 

But, on the other hand, now he had eight more _ad'e_ to take care of. Jango alone had been a handful at that age. Jaster's mind boggled at the idea of seven more just like him, all of them already combat veterans, trained to think on their feet and act without oversight, and with a little Force wielding _jetii_ leading them, to boot. Not just any _jetii_ either, but one skilled enough to beat Knights in seconds, to spar a Jedi Master to a standstill and just look energized at the end of it. 

Master Dooku had clearly been shocked at the level of skill he'd seen. They all had. Just who _was_ this kid? Who would he eventually become?

The tactical side of Jaster was more than pleased to have this group under his wing. It wasn't just about skill. They were good. Honorable. People Jaster knew in his bones would be a credit to his clan. 

They also worried the kriff out of him. They were Force-hells terrifying, and logic dictated that whatever they'd been at war with was as bad or _worse_. 

Over the years he'd spent dealing with the Death Watch and the New Mandalorians, Jaster had spent a lot of time thinking on the future. Part of his job as _Mand'alor_ was to protect and guide his people. The future that Ben had spoken of was a deeply troubling one.

As much as he wanted to prevent that all out galaxy-wide war, his priority was Mandalore. It was now more imperative than ever that he find a way to unite the clans. If the _mando'ad'e_ were to have any hope of surviving the coming conflict, they needed to work together, and keep out of it as much as possible.

These little time travelers had given him the chance to do that. He hadn't missed the implication that he would have died on this mission without their interference. 

Yet despite their obvious experience, it was clear as day to Jaster that they were still children. Or, perhaps, were _once again_ children. They lacked the stamina of a full adult. As evidenced by the puppy pile on the floor. 

They were all tuckered out. They had good reason to be, yes, but Jaster had no doubt that if they'd been in their adult bodies they would still be going strong.

His brooding must have tipped off the little _jetii_ , because he started to stir from his spot in the middle of the pile. Jaster hadn't missed the fact that Ben always got the middle -- the little _jetii_ 's _vod'e_ were protecting him with their bodies as they slept, even in the safety of their ship in hyperspace. He worried about what that implied.

Ben shifted in place and scrunched his nose as he clawed his way back to wakefulness. He looked like an orange loth-cat. All spiky ginger fur and innocent eyes. That was an image that only held so long as it was right in front of him, though. Jaster remembered what it had been like on Korda VI. Ben had seemed harmless enough... right up until he'd pulled out his lightsabre and taken on a whole attacking force of Kordans in full armor, seemingly without a second thought. Kriff, when that little terror had _leapt_ right into the middle of them Jaster had almost had a heart attack. 

Once awake, Ben immediately focused on him. They shared a second of silence and then Ben started worming his way out of the pile of his _vod'e_.

Cody muttered unhappily and tried to cling to the little _jetii_ , but Ben just hummed soothingly. He eased Cody's hand back down and then brushed a delicate finger along the side of Cody's eyebrow. It looked like he was tracing something, but there wasn't anything there. 

That was enough to settle Cody back down to sleep.

Jaster kept his eyes from narrowing. That was a very intimate gesture, even for a group of people who were clearly all very close. He kept his suspicions to himself while he and Ben stepped away from the sleeping _vod'e_.

The two of them ended up in the sitting area right outside of the cockpit. Jango was at the helm keeping an eye on the controls. Everyone was tired, but only his newly adopted _ad'e_ had been visibly worn to exhaustion. 

Little bodies got tired quickly. Jaster wondered if any of them realized it.

"You wish to speak, _buir_?" Ben asked quietly once they'd settled down. 

Jaster pursed his lips as he thought about it. He hadn't gone to the bunk room specifically to talk to any of them. He'd just wanted to check in. Maybe also get another look at how adorable the little _verd'ike_ were, all piled up like that. 

Now that Ben had mentioned it, though, he did have things he wanted to say. A million questions to ask, most of which wouldn't be appropriate given how new the relationship was between them. 

He leaned back in his seat, keeping his posture relaxed. This wasn't an interrogation and Ben was more than quick enough to take note of things like body language. All kids reacted to how adults moved. Nonverbal cues were a big part of communication. Jaster knew this. Just as he knew that Ben would likely take analysis of said body language to a level that most adults never did.

In a regular child, that would be evidence of past abuse. In Ben, Jaster had no way of knowing. He wanted to say that it was just experience, competence, but given everything the little warriors had said and everything they _hadn't_ said about what they expected from others... Jaster had to wonder. 

Perhaps it was wiser to start this conversation off on a less threatening subject. He considered asking where Ben had learned Mando'a and why -- that was a skill that Jaster would never have expected he'd have; it wasn't a language often spoken by _aruetiise_ and Ben was a _jetii_ , to boot -- before settling on a more innocuous topic.

"So…" Jaster glanced back towards the bunks. "He's your _riduur_ , huh?"

Ben instantly turned beet red and sputtered like he was about to choke.

"What-- No-- He, I--" 

Under the strangled denials Jaster could make out the faint sound of Jango snickering to himself in the cockpit. Jaster grinned. 

So that was what it took to catch the little general off guard. Not being thrown back in time. Not meeting the _Mand'alor_. Not jumping headlong into combat and leading a risky charge against a hail of blasterfire. Just a little ribbing about who he might be romantically involved with.

It sadly didn't take long for Ben to get his voice under control, though his face was still pink as could be.

"I'm Jedi, _buir_ ," Ben said primly. "And Cody is directly under my command. Both are reason enough to not get attached."

Jaster raised an eyebrow in blatant disbelief. Was this _jetii_ really trying to tell him that he wasn't attached to his _vod'e_? Anyone with eyes could see that they were all attached to one another quite firmly. 

Obviously, Ben couldn't quite swallow his own lie, either. He took a deep breath and glanced off to the empty space of the room around them. Jaster waited him out. They had time. Not only that, but Ben was his _ad_ now, his _aliit_. Jaster wanted to get to know him as a person, and that was best done on Ben's terms.

When Ben finally started to speak, his voice was calm. Pleasant. The blushes had all died down.

"You must understand, _buir_. The Order holds that to become attached is to risk falling to the Dark. _There is no emotion, there is peace_. That's the first line of the Jedi code." Ben took a long, slow breath. 

"You really think that caring for people will lead to ruin?" Jaster wasn't sure about what ‘the Dark' was or what it entailed, but he could infer. He'd heard some stories, everyone had, though all of them were so ancient they might as well be myths.

To his credit, Ben seemed to really consider the question. 

"I've been at war for years now, _buir_ ," he said quietly. That statement alone was enough to make Jaster's heart ache. "I have seen Jedi Fall. More of them than I ever dreamed that I would. Sometimes it's love of power and control that drives them to Darkness. But sometimes it's the pain of losing someone that they loved more dearly than their own life. It's incredibly easy to be consumed by rage and hate when any kind of strong attachment gets destroyed. Or killed."

He paused for a moment and a sad, thoughtful look crossed over his face. "There are so many of us that have suffered deeply because of the fighting... and we've had to find what little joy we could, amidst the death and destruction. War wounds the Force in a very real sense, for all that those who are not sensitive to the Force rarely feel it. The pain... the fear... Strong emotions can and do leave lingering impressions on the very fabric of the galaxy. To spend too long immersed in an environment like that? It can drive a Jedi to madness. Make them consider extreme measures to attempt to bring an end to that suffering. In the end, those connections became the very things that held us to the Light and gave us hope."

Every word just made Jaster ache more. Though Ben's voice and expression never changed, there was a nearly tangible air of suffering to him. He'd spent years at war. Fighting not to let the pain he'd just described drive _him_ to madness, as it had his brethren. He'd lived through things that no one should. The fact that these awful stories were coming out of a tiny child only messed with Jaster's head more. He knew that Ben was a full adult inside a kid's body. He still couldn't stop the surge of revulsion that came of hearing a child speak so casually of such matters.

Ben seemed to gather his thoughts.

"Centuries ago, the Order held a different code. _Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force._ We do not exist outside of our nature, we find our path through it. Because of it. In spite of it. It's a dangerous way of thinking, because it more keenly opens a Force user to the struggle between the Light and the Dark. If one never becomes attached, then one need never fear the potential negative consequences that are possible because of that attachment. It's far easier to simply deny attachment. And so, the Code was changed. _There is no emotion, there is only peace. There is no ignorance, only knowledge. There is no passion, only serenity. There is no chaos, only harmony. There is no death, only the Force_."

Jaster frowned. "Avoiding a more fulfilling path just because it's more dangerous seems…" He didn't want to say cowardly, but it was tempting.

Ben glanced at him. A ghost of a smile lingered on his lips and he nodded his head towards Jaster in acknowledgment. 

"The change enacted in the Code is not entirely unwise. The Dark side of the Force is powerfully alluring to those of us who can feel it. Avoiding temptation can save those who wouldn't have the strength to resist." His smile turned rueful and more than a little bitter. "But after years of fighting and dying en masse, the Jedi Council is less concerned with such mundane matters as a little heresy. Attachment is still taboo, but…" He shrugged despondently. "When you could die at any moment, when you've been on the front for years with not more than a handful of rotations break at a time, when you fight against an enemy that is numerous beyond counting... Well, you take what comfort or happiness you can get."

Jaster couldn't quite hold back his grimace. Even if he couldn't stop whatever grim future Ben and his _vod'e_ came from, he could make sure that at least _this_ group wouldn't be alone through it.

"You're not at war anymore," Jaster said quietly, feeling a little desperate to remind Ben that his circumstances were different. 

"For now." Ben shrugged, but his eyes sparkled with humor. As if this was a joke.

"You're also not with the Order anymore, either. No one says you have to follow the new Code now. You aren't going back with whoever the irritating _jetii_ sends to come test you." He knew there was steel in his voice. He _would not_ allow it. Obviously the _jetiise_ hadn't done a proper job of caring for their younglings, if this was how they all turned out. 

Ben got that look on his face again. That curious blend of pleasure, confusion, and astonishment. Like he couldn't quite believe that something as simple as family connection was possible.

Nope. Ben was staying with Mandalore. 

Jaster decided to drive the point home.

"And you're not in an army anymore, either. Cody isn't your subordinate." Which meant that Ben could pursue a relationship without worrying about possible conflicts of interest. Jaster was pleased and proud to know that Ben was the kind of person who considered such things, but it was unnecessary given the current situation.

Ben blinked at him.

"For the moment," he acknowledged. "We still hope that we might be able to find our way home. There are people who are counting on us."

No doubt there were. Ben and his _vod'e_ were the type of people whom others _could_ count on. 

"You don't know if you'll be able to get back," Jaster said, pressing his advantage. He wanted them to stay with him, not only for the benefit of his clan but for their own safety and well being, too. "So for right now you aren't in an army."

"And right now I'm twelve," Ben pointed out dryly. "And Cody is ten. Or perhaps four, depending on how you look at it."

It was a good point. One that Jaster had nearly forgotten once Ben had started talking philosophy. Ben _spoke_ like the adult he was in his own timeline, and it was clear to Jaster that he'd lived a full adult life before now. 

If Ben and Cody had actually been the children that they appeared to be, Jaster would have never brought up the subject. 

Even as they were, he didn't expect them to even consider entering into a serious relationship until they were much older. Young betrothals weren't unheard of for _ad'e_ who had a clear connection, but even then actual _courting_ didn't happen until both _ad'e_ were adults. It was a way to foster clan alliances and encourage loyalty between tribes. The _ad'e_ were given opportunities to train and learn together when they were younger and if they decided to formally court each other once they were of age, then their _buir'e_ were prepared. If the _ad'e_ chose another path, then they were allowed to make their own way with the support of both clans.

Ben and Cody were such solemn people. Jaster would like to see them happy. 

"Which means you have time to think it over," Jaster replied easily. "It'll give you time to get the right armor gift for him."

No matter how close Ben and Cody were, clearly they hadn't formally been _riduur'e_ back in their own time, which meant that they likely hadn't exchanged the traditional betrothal gift of armor. Jaster had the feeling that if they had then they would still be wearing those pieces, de-aging be damned.

Ben didn't seem to have an answer to that. Excellent. Jaster decided he would work on Cody next, though he suspected that it might be a while before he'd be able to get any of the clones alone. He was pleasantly surprised that he'd managed to get Ben by himself, though that was probably only by the grace of being locked together on a ship in hyperspace. Once they were on Mandalore, Jaster was mildly concerned that the little general and his _vod'e_ would slip into the woodwork and disappear, only to return covered in trouble or glory or both. Likely both.

Eventually, Ben nodded acknowledgment at him, composed despite the fact that Jaster could see the subject at hand had unsettled him. That was alright. Ben would figure it out. His _aliit_ would help. That was what clan was for.

"What are your plans once we get to Mandalore?" Ben asked. 

Jaster held back a smirk of triumph. Ben changing the subject was tantamount to hearing him admitting defeat. Or at least making a strategic withdrawal. 

"Got to investigate whatever's going on with this contract. If the Death Watch is behind it, they need to be dealt with sooner rather than later." 

That was a whole can of worms. This ambush had been an assassination attempt, and a cowardly one at that. The fact that the _jetiise_ had been drawn into it as well was extra disturbing. He'd have to reach out to his advisors, see if any of them had connections in the senate. That was unlikely, but possible. And necessary to find out. There was a wider game being played here and Jaster _did not_ like the idea of being a pawn in it. If the Death Watch had managed to secure outside aid, then he'd need to gather some aid of his own to fight them effectively. His _verd'e_ were good, but not as numerous as they had once been.

Ben nodded and rubbed his chin. It was an incongruously old gesture for such a little boy. Like he was stroking a beard. Jaster did not smile. He wanted to.

Then Ben yawned so wide that his jaw popped.

"Sorry--" Ben started.

Jaster waved him off. "No, I shouldn't be keeping you up. You and your _vod'e_ fought well today," he glared at Ben for a moment, "despite disregarding my orders _and_ jumping into the middle of a damn firestorm like a karking idiot."

Ben looked at him with wide innocent eyes that Jaster didn't buy for a single second. There was a hint of a smile at Ben's mouth which just made Jaster glare harder. 

"We'll talk more about it later," Jaster promised. Ben just gave him a knowing smirk. "Now, get back to your bunk. There's plenty of time yet to rest, and we'll have food ready when you wake up."

For a moment it looked like Ben would protest. Then he stifled another yawn and his expression turned sheepish. He nodded at Jaster and stood up. "Goodnight, _buir_. And... thank you," he added quietly. 

Then Ben slipped off back into the ship like a ghost. 

Jaster stared at the empty hall for a few minutes longer, considering everything that Ben had told him and all that it implied.

"Kid's kinda messed up, isn't he?" Jango said quietly. He'd sat down in Ben's abandoned seat while Jaster had been mulling the conversation over in his head.

"It seems so, _ad_ ," Jaster answered in kind, keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn't carry through the ship. 

He'd known the group of kids for barely a couple of rotations and even in that short amount of time many things had become apparent. First and foremost, whoever had had the honor of their loyalty in the future hadn't kriffing deserved it. 

Jaster could do better. And he would.


	3. Chapter 3

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Yan fought the urge to pace. Or perhaps tap his fingers. Something. _Anything_ to express his inner turmoil as he finished his report on the mission to Korda VI and stood in front of the Jedi Council. 

He would not allow himself to show such clear signs of his agitation. He was a Jedi Master. He had more control than that.

Regardless, to say he was _unsettled_ would be a powerful understatement.

“A trap, it was?” Master Yoda asked. His voice was rough and low and the pointed tips of his ears drooped. 

“One intended for both the Order and the _Mand'alor_ ,” Yan said with a bitter bite to his words. “We were all fed misinformation. If not for the... initiate we encountered there, it could easily have been a slaughter. Ten knights against a group of mandalorians who were already pinned down...”

He let the Council imagine just what the results of that would have looked like. 

So many parts of this sordid affair nettled him. That he had ended up the primary pawn in someone else’s catspaw rankled as much as anything. 

“I am curious about this initiate,” Master Plo Koon said. The Kel Dor had to wear a mask that covered most of his face, necessary so that he could avoid inhaling the oxygen that was so necessary for the rest of them but toxic to him, and that meant much of his expression was covered up. Yan was familiar with his body language, though. He could tell that Master Plo was more than just curious, he was very interested. 

_He always did like adopting strays_ , Yan thought with fleeting amusement. 

Not that he could throw stones, considering that he'd wanted the same thing. A child, a _child_ , had fought him to a stand still! It was not vanity to say that Yan was one of the best duelists in the Order, and despite his skill he’d just gotten into a draw with a _pre-teen_.

The duel had been so astonishing, both the fight itself and the outcome, that Yan couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry, or even jealous. He was fascinated. 

“The youngling, certainly, our concern is,” Master Yaddle agreed. “But, talk of that later, we will. First, the mission. Master Dooku, opinions, you have, on why we were deceived?”

“Or by whom?” Master Mace Windu asked. He was a young human, the youngest to ever make the Council. Yan always appreciated his ability to cut straight to the heart of any matter. 

He let his lips twist into a grimace as he answered. “My first inclination is to blame the Senate. It is another indication of a larger trend that I do not appreciate. The Senate has a habit of asking just a little bit more of us than we should be giving.” He shook his head. “Given the wording of their request for aid, it was too easy to come to the conclusion that a resolution by force would be what was required. We are peacekeepers, not law enforcement.”

“You don’t know for sure that they are to blame, though,” Master Windu said evenly.

“No. I do not.”

“I will look into the matter,” Master Adi Gallia said firmly. “This could be the work of one or more beings in the Senate, or it could just as easily be that they were fed false information themselves.”

Master Gallia was most often the liaison between the Jedi Council and the Galactic Senate. She had a knack for threading through the web of lies and favors that was so often present there. Yan was also a fair hand at it, though he didn’t care for it much. He was an idealist at heart and the more time he spent dealing with the Senate, the more disillusioned with the Republic he became. 

“Our thanks, you have, Master Gallia,” Master Yoda said and inclined his head towards her. “Attack dogs, the Jedi cannot be.”

That sent a small curl of satisfaction twisting in Yan’s stomach, though he had his doubts about how effective the Council’s investigations would be. They’d disappointed him in other matters as well. The Jedi Order seemed to be growing increasingly out of touch with the rest of the galaxy, entrenched in traditions that didn’t hold up to the passing of time.

From Yan's perspective, the Council was too fearful in some cases and too conservative in others. Certainly, it was necessary to deliberate before big decisions were made, but the Council took it to extremes, often resulting in paralysis and inaction on their part. He had brought warnings to them before, only to have them ignored at great cost to others. Master Yoda was fond of saying that the future was always in motion, and he wasn't wrong. In principle, Yan agreed with him. But that unpredictability didn’t mean that they could not _plan_ for the worst.

Yan cast a glance over at Master Sifo-Dyas. He and Yan had been very close friends for years, and Yan knew that Sifo-Dyas was particularly gifted in foresight. Just as he knew that those visions of the future were often ignored by the Council. As a Jedi in tune with the Living Force, Master Yoda didn’t hold much with prophecy, instead preferring to focus on the here and now. Master Yoda had been Head of the Order for many years. Where he went, the Council often followed.

Yan himself tended to lean towards the Unifying Force. All things were connected, and while it was certainly true that not every prophecy or vision would come to pass, it was prudent to take them as the warnings that they were. Jedi should trust in the Force. 

He kept his irritation hidden deep under layers of shields. Now was not the time to vent it. If ever.

“Tell us about the Initiate,” Master Koon urged again, clearly wishing to be done with the topic of the Senate. Yan didn’t blame him.

“Ben Kenobi,” Yan said with a hum of remembered satisfaction. “For all that he looked too young to even be taken as a padawan, he displayed a master’s skill in every way that I could see, given the constraints of our interaction. He was poised, intelligent. Cautious and even handed. And his 'sabre skills…”

Yan shook his head. “He knew Soresu as well as anyone I have ever faced. His execution was flawless. Our spar lasted for long enough that it was clear to me he had to be proficient in other forms as well. His technique was too well rounded. I am... impressed.”

The Council absorbed this information with mild shock. Yan knew well that he was not known for his effusive speech, and was often more stern than perhaps he needed to be. For _him_ to show such regard for another’s abilities was high praise indeed, and the Council knew it. 

He almost mentioned the youngling’s story about time travel, but disregarded the idea rather promptly. It couldn’t be true. No, more likely the youngling was using the tale as a cover story for however he’d actually acquired his skills, knowingly or not. Likely not. It would be easy enough to make a child believe an outlandish story. 

“He refused to return to Coruscant, however, and I’m afraid that the _Mand’alor_ is correct in citing the laws of the Republic in the matter. Jaster Mereel has adopted Ben Kenobi into his clan, and as such he can choose to deny the Jedi’s choice to bring Kenobi to the Temple." They did legally have the right to take a child from their home in Republic worlds, but Jedi only forcefully took children from _abusive_ families, not loving ones, which the _Mand'alor_ obviously would be.

"Not that I think we would have been able to take Ben against his own wishes, even if that was something the Order did,” Yan mused. 

Not only was Ben Kenobi a stunningly competent duelist, but he’d had with him the rest of those children. It was tempting to dismiss them. They were younger than Kenobi, and not one of them was Force sensitive. 

But Yan had gotten a taste of what Kenobi could do and seen just how fiercely loyal the other younglings were to him. It made him wonder what the rest of the tightly knit group was capable of. Innate aptitude aside, a great deal of skill and effort were required to achieve the level of mastery that Kenobi had displayed. If the other seven boys were part of a single unit with him, then that implied that they had been trained with just as much vigor. As they weren’t Force sensitive, Yan had to wonder what it was they _were_ trained in, and why they had been placed with Ben. Not to mention why they seemed to buzz so strangely in the Force. He'd never yet encountered the like.

“A danger, you think the youngling is?” Master Yaddle asked. While she and Master Yoda were of the same species, and shared certain habitual quirks, Master Yaddle was often warmer, kinder than Master Yoda had become.

“It is apparent to me that Ben Kenobi is in total control of his abilities,” Yan said. “Whether or not he is a danger I think would depend entirely on whether he _wanted_ to be a danger. He certainly isn’t in danger of harming anyone through uncontrolled use of the Force or being driven mad by senses he cannot control. However, there can be no doubt the Kordan soldiers thought him dangerous.” Yan frowned and shook his head. “I only witnessed the last moments of the battle between the _Mand’alor_ and the Kordan forces, but Ben was right at the heart of the skirmish. A risky position for anyone, let alone a youngling. He led from the front, and he fought like no one else I have ever seen.” 

Yan’s brow furrowed as he thought about that. It was true -- Kenobi fought like a hurricane -- but Yan suddenly realized something else terribly important. The Force rang inside of him like a bell at the knowledge. 

“He fought like no one else I have ever seen, because I have never seen a Jedi bullrush an oncoming army,” Yan mused out loud. “But he fought as though he was _used_ to that. As if he has always been the front runner in the middle of a field of blasterfire. Impossibly outnumbered in front, and with a wave of allied fire at his back.”

Kenobi was an incredible duelist, but those skills did not necessarily translate into a mêlée free-for-all. Lightsabre forms should be so ingrained that they became reflex. Second nature. That way, when the Force moved through the body to block an attack or take advantage of an opening, there would be no need to think. The body would simply be ready to move with maximum efficiency. The skills needed to successfully spearhead a charge on a fortified enemy position were vastly different from those needed to combat a single opponent who also wielded a lightsabre. 

“He’s done this before,” Yan breathed out. 

What he had seen on Korda VI went beyond simple mastery of the forms. 

_Someone_ had turned a child into a living weapon, and quite possibly had given him a whole cadre of other children to fight with. Just as _someone_ had fielded that child against terrible odds often enough for his habits to become ingrained. For the sake of practice, if not something more sinister.

“Explain,” Master Windu said abruptly.

Yan shook his head. “There were signs. Not just his skill with a 'sabre, but the way he interacted with the other children who were with him. The whole group of them fell into formation at every opportunity, guarding Kenobi’s back while clearly keeping an eye out for trouble, just as he seemed to watch out for them. They moved seamlessly as a unit and they had a recognized non-verbal language that Kenobi used to give the others orders. They looked at everyone with suspicion. They moved like soldiers. Tiny soldiers. Even Kenobi. They were all groomed for war.”

Yan would be the first to admit that he wasn’t the best with children. He tried, especially with his padawans, though it did not come naturally to him, as it did to Master Koon, or even Master Yaddle or Master Yoda. 

But even _Yan_ would never do this to a child.

Disgust and horror squirmed in the Force around the Council.

“Do you think that the _Mand’alor_ did this?” Master Koon asked quietly.

Yan shook his head. “No. From what I could gather, he’d just met the whole group of little warriors recently and decided to adopt them on the spot.”

Truthfully, Yan was a little jealous of that. He couldn’t fault Jaster for his taste, though. Yan would have done the same thing, limitations on padawan numbers be damned. Just having Ben Kenobi to train would've been a pleasure worth putting up with the seven young _mando’ad'e_ who would no doubt have tagged along whether he'd tried to forbid them to or not.

“Another Initiate, we have, named Kenobi,” Master Yoda said thoughtfully. “Young, though.”

“Obi-Wan. He’s five standard this year,” Master Zir said. He was head of the crèche masters, and had an impeccable memory. Even Yan with his love of reading and history balked at the idea of attempting to keep every Jedi child’s name and interests memorized. “He’s from Stewjon. Was given to us at six months of age.”

It went without saying that Obi-Wan had had no contact with his birth family since then. That was the norm, and only rare exceptions were ever made.

“Ben Kenobi is eleven or perhaps twelve years of age. No older than that,” Yan said.

“Could they be family?” Master Koon asked.

“It is... possible.” Master Zir sounded dubious. “Perhaps they just share a clan name?”

No one had any answers.

“Find Ben Kenobi’s master, we must,” Master Yoda said into the grim silence. “Test Kenobi, also. Some of his master’s plans we may be able to devise through the testing.”

“I request permission to go to Mandalore for this mission,” Yan said immediately. “Regardless of what else we might find out, Kenobi was a pleasure to train with. He and I could learn much from each other, I think.”

There were nods around the circle of chairs.

“I would like to go with you,” Master Windu added. He was just as skilled with a 'sabre as Yan, though he favored his own form, Vaapad. He was also more in tune with the Dark, balanced on the knife's edge like no one else on the Council was. If anyone could sniff out something untoward happening, it would be Windu.

A thought struck him.

“May I suggest that Master Qui-Gon Jinn join as well?” Yan asked. “My former padawan is an exemplar of the Living Force and a skilled diplomat. The political situation on Mandalore is tenuous, and the Jedi historically do not have good relations with them. He is more experienced than I with conflicts of this nature.”

It went unsaid that Master Jinn was additionally skilled at ‘aggressive negotiations’, a tactic that the warriors of Mandalore would likely appreciate. 

Master Yoda nodded. "Agree, I do. Objections, are there?" Silence from around the room. “So be it. Master Dooku, Master Windu. To Mandalore, go, and with you take Master Jinn. Whoever deceived us with this mission, the _Mand'alor_ was deceived by, as well. Answers, you may find there. Of most importance, though, is Ben Kenobi. Find out more about him, you must, and learn who trained him.”

There was a grim emphasis on those last words. Because it went without saying that if there was one frighteningly competent Force sensitive child soldier, then there could very well be more. The fact that Ben Kenobi came with his own honor guard of other child soldiers spoke volumes in support of that.

As much as Yan was looking forward to training with Ben Kenobi, he dreaded learning the truth of how such a wise, dangerous little boy had come to be.

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Stepping back off the dropship after the engagement on Korda VI and onto Jaster's cruiser had been an adjustment, but a small one. The environment had sent a sharp pang through him, for its similarity to the atmosphere on the _Resolute_ or the _Negotiator_. It was eerie, how closely the feeling of being aboard Jaster's cruiser mirrored that of the two Republic cruisers he was more familiar with, for all that the three ships were thirty years apart and crewed by entirely different groups of people. The biggest -- jarring -- difference was the lack of clone troopers surrounding him with a baseline hum that felt like a hive of insects or a large number of lit lightsabres.

Though, now that he thought about it, the clones might as well be _mando'ad'e_ , given their education and training. Their _Cuy'val Dar_ had taught them much about Mandalorian culture and attitudes. The biggest difference was that the clones gave their allegiance to the Jedi, rather than the _Mand'alor_.

The trip back to Mandalore had been uneventful, too, save for a rather awkward conversation with his _buir_ aboard the cruiser, once they'd made the jump into hyperspace. Jaster, for all his knowledge, skill in negotiations, and prowess in battle, knew very little about the Jedi way of life, and Ben knew that lay at the heart of their half-successful attempts to understand one another.

He had decided immediately after he'd made his way back out of the small space they'd sat in for their talk, that he wasn't going to even consider the comments Jaster had made about Cody being his _riduur_. Those had cut a bit too close to the bone. That he occasionally let himself wonder what it would be like was bad enough. He couldn't allow himself to give in to that temptation, regardless of how much he might want to.

The subtle change in the vibration of the ship's decks and superstructure alerted him: they had arrived back in Mandalore's system and were dropping back out of hyperspace.

The Force felt like it was eagerly awaiting the moment they set foot on the planet. As though that would spark some kind of change.

Obi-Wan -- no, Ben, he reminded himself, he needed to start thinking of himself as Ben until such a time as he and the _Vod'e_ could get back to Anakin and the rest of the 7th Sky Corps, lest he accidentally forget to respond to his pseudonym -- Ben really hoped that the strange anticipatory feeling in the Force didn't mean he was about to get another strong vision like the one he'd been hit by as they'd chased down Grievous.

He suspected that Helix would try to secure him to his bed, if that happened.

"Sir?" Cody broke into his thoughts, making him refocus on the here-and-now. "We're preparing to disembark."

"I'm ready when you are, Cody," Ben acknowledged the subtle command. "I assume the others are already waiting for us?"

Cody nodded. "Yes, sir. They're with Jango in a ready room near the main hangar."

"Let's not keep them waiting, then," Ben said as he started for the door of the room.

Cody fell in at his left hand without a word, a calm placid pool, this rotation, compared to his state over the past 36 hours. Feeling his Commander's usual battle-ready mix of anticipation and low-level alertness and taking comfort in it, Ben led him off towards their waiting _Vod'e_. "Any further news?"

"No, sir. Everything's quiet. If we were in our own time, I'd say it was _too_ quiet," Cody reported briskly, then paused then added, "It's putting me a little on edge. The others, too."

Ben nodded, accepting that. "I know what you mean," he said, then let a comfortable silence fall and hold until they were walking into the ready room. He could feel the rest of their men as they approached, their Force signatures unique and distinctive among the many others aboard the cruiser.

The rest of the _Vod'e_ all looked over when they entered and a wave of sharp relief went through all of them, making their usual buzz come way down in intensity. The feeling made Ben wonder how long it would take before they all stopped feeling the near-instinctive need to have one another in sight at all times. He felt much the same about not being able to keep tabs on them, but his men seemed to be hit harder by it.

"Good to see you're on time, sir," Waxer quipped, and Boil dug an elbow into his ribs in warning.

Crys muttered something about idiots under his breath, then put in, "Jango says we'll be landing in about half an hour, and to be ready to hit the dropships in about ten minutes. Apparently not everyone aboard is going planetside."

Interesting. That implied they already had another contract. Or had perhaps picked it up before their mission on Korda.

"That's not an issue," Ben said. "I trust you are all packed up and ready for the trip."

"Yes, sir," Longshot answered. "We were just waiting for the Commander to come back with you. Jango should be back here soon to tell us which dropship is ours."

"And once we have access to a proper medbay, all of you are holding still for a full scan," Helix demanded firmly. "Including you, General."

"It's like no one hears me when I try to tell them I'm uninjured," Ben grumbled back at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "You checked me over before we left the _Resolute_ , again when we landed on Korda, and then a third time after my spar with Master Dooku."

"All of those checks were made hastily, in bad conditions, and with substandard equipment, except the first one," Helix retorted. "Will you hold still, or must I sedate you?"

With a put-upon sigh, Ben gave in. "If it makes you feel better. But I'm _fine_ , I promise you."

Wooley and Cody gave him a disbelieving look that made Ben want to groan. _Why_ did they always mother him like this? He'd shown them over and over that he could take care of himself, surely.

Before he could find a way to reassure them, Jango strolled into the ready room as though he owned it and paused just long enough to count heads. "Good, all of you are here. Come on, _vod'ike_ , it's time to go home."

Knowing that making planetfall would be a bittersweet moment at best, considering his history with the place, Ben bit at his lip, then nodded. "Lead the way, then, _ori'vod_."

That he'd openly claimed Jango as an older brother got Ben the brightest smile he'd yet seen from the teen, and he felt the strong wave of approval from his men. All of them.

It was almost dizzying.

"This way," Jango said, and led them into the hangar. A row of ten dropships stood there, the five at the far end of the line all under repairs, having been part of the mission on Korda. They followed Jango to the second dropship from the hangar door, and then into it. "You'll all be riding down on this ship, with me. _Buir_ and the rest of his command staff will be taking the first."

Ben could feel the slight pang of worry that went through Longshot and Crys on hearing that, the way their buzz briefly spiked into higher ranges, but they quickly recovered.

He worried a little bit, that his men were getting rather more attached to their _buir_ than was at all wise, if they were going to try to get back to their own time. That they would add Jaster to their Remembrances without any hesitation, and feel that loss as keenly as that of any of their brothers. The whole group of _Vod'e_ would mourn that connection sharply once it was lost.

And, he was sure, their connection to Jango, too.

Ben knew he wouldn't be much better off, himself, despite the care he'd taken not to let himself get attached and his protestations.

Having to give up the two people who'd _picked him_ , who'd wanted him without reservation, who'd adopted him without hesitation despite the bad blood and lingering tensions between the Jedi and the _Mando'ad'e_ , would cut deeply.

The dropship filled up quickly once the eight of them and Jango were settled, clustered tightly together near the cockpit, and then the ships were taking off.

As they made their way down from orbit and broke atmosphere, Jango turned to Ben and said, "We'll be making for the spaceport outside Sundari, and from there, _buir_ will have to go attend to as much of the paperwork that never ends and the political maneuvering that's happened in his absence as he can stand. You're coming with me to the clinic to get checked out, and then we're going home."

Ben couldn't help the way he swallowed hard at the idea that, for now, this _was_ his home. It finally hit him that the Temple wasn't his home anymore, and wouldn't be until they could get back to where they belonged. The thought felt like it snapped some tether he hadn't known was keeping him steady, leaving him drifting through empty space. For his entire conscious existence, the Temple on Coruscant had been home. A haven of peace and serenity in which to learn as an initiate, and later to return to when he had a chance between missions with his Master, with Anakin, or, more recently, with the Third Systems Army.

He hadn't realised how much he'd relied on the knowledge that he could always return there. How much it had kept him steady throughout the trials of the Clone Wars.

And now, he'd voluntarily given up that pillar on which he'd partially rested.

Cody's arm went around his waist. "You alright, sir?" He demanded in tones that would go unnoticed beneath the whine of the dropship's engines. "You're looking a bit shellshocked."

"Just some unpleasant realisations," he reassured his Commander.

Cody gave him an unimpressed look. "Alright. I'll let it go, but we're talking about this after Helix gets you checked out and clears you."

When he looked away from Cody, Jango's eyes immediately caught his, and Ben almost felt like a specimen trapped under glass for observation. Jango, despite his youth, was very perceptive and good at reading people. Thankfully for Ben's state of mind, though, he didn't comment on what Ben was sure he'd overheard.

The ensuing silence between them held until they were on the ground, and Jango was leading the way out of the dropship and onto the landing pad. The other dropships were setting down all around them, and Jaster's men were jumping the short distance down off the ships with a feeling of relief that Ben could distinctly feel, for all that he wasn't in tune with them the way he was with his own men or those others he knew well.

He and his _Vod'e_ followed Jango off the landing pad and into the nearby spaceport without needing an order to do so, and then let their _ori'vod_ corral them into a hired speeder.

It was a tight fit, even though they were smaller than usual, because they still had all their gear to transport, but they made it work, and then, about ten minutes later, they'd pulled up in front of the clinic Jango had threatened them with.

" _Buir_ said he would meet us here, as soon as he was through with his duties. You eight are going to get checked out, and cleared, and I'm sticking around to make sure you do."

Wooley huffed. "They won't find anything but a few healing scrapes," he said, "but I don't mind. It'll get Helix off our cases."

"I wouldn't harass you, if the lot of you didn't hide injuries so often," Helix muttered a bit mulishly. 

Crys put in, "Make the General go first, then he won't be complaining as long."

Boil laughed. "That won't help, _di'kut_. He'll complain about having to get checked out, then, instead of trying to get out of it."

Ben huffed at them. "I'm not that bad."

Cody gave him a sardonic look.

Jango shook his head at the lot of them, and draped an arm over Ben's shoulders. "Get checked out, and then your _verd'ike_ will stop worrying about you," he said, keeping his voice light. "We'll keep watch while you do, and then you can return the favour once you're cleared."

Clearly, everyone here thought he was an initiate with more lightsabre than sense. "Fine," he gave in, "but it truly isn't necessary."

As though she'd been waiting for a cue, what Ben assumed was the clinic's head medic stepped into the room, fished him out of the group, and hustled him deftly off to a small examination room.

Nothing about it set off his instincts, for once, and Ben wasn't sure why that was. Being in medical had always left him uneasy before, even among clone medics he trusted implicitly, and yet here... he wasn't.

Perhaps it had something to do with the way the Force shone so brightly in this time and place, he mused to himself as the medic efficiently ran her checks. It might be that he just felt so much lighter and better overall.

Then, almost before he was prepared for it, he was being released. The medic -- whose name he hadn't even thought to ask in his distraction -- shepherded him expertly back to the room his _Vod'e_ waited in, announced that he was fine, and vanished again with Waxer in tow. Cody, he noted, was also missing from the room, but no one seemed all that alarmed.

As he finished the thought, a jolt of what could only be fear felt like it speared through him, making him go rigid where he stood and reach out with the Force to touch Cody and Waxer. Both were physically fine, but the harsh jangling buzz of emotion and visceral revulsion coming from them was almost enough to make him nauseous.

His sudden tension had gotten their _ori'vod_ 's attention, though. Jango caught his eyes, not moving from where he was sitting, reclining in one of those ever-present uncomfortable chairs that seemed to exist in every clinic throughout the galaxy, and simply asked, "That wasn't so bad, was it, _vod'ika_?"

"I guess not," he agreed absently, his focus still on the two _Vod'e_ who weren't in the room, "but it was, and remains, excessive."

"It's also procedure," Jango pointed out gently. "All adopted _ad'e_ get checked over when they get home. Especially any that come from out-system. Many start out as slaves, and need special care to recover from that."

And to remove their slave chips, Ben realised. "Oh."

That did explain a lot, and he was almost ashamed at not having made that connection before. The _Mando'ad'e_ had such a reputation for being ferocious warriors that it sometimes overshadowed their kindness and sheer competence, in the eyes of the rest of the galaxy. Of course they'd have provisions in place to keep their _ad'e_ safe. And _mando'ad'e_ tended to be sticklers for protocol and tradition, given how big a part of their identity it was.

The next few minutes passed quietly, and Cody and Waxer gradually calmed slightly as the time went by, then the medic who'd checked him over reappeared with a second, both of them looking concerned. Cody and Waxer slipped past them and back into the room, looking like they desperately needed to have their _Vod'e_ around them.

A tight knot formed in the pit of his stomach, and Ben just _knew_ that something was badly wrong. He took the two steps over to his very shaken Commander to pull him into a hug that was very gratefully accepted. The others quickly joined them, pulling Waxer into the huddle as well. "You alright, Cody?" Ben asked him carefully.

"They--" Cody's voice cut out, and he tried again. "They found a chip in us," he got out, sounding lost and frightened and angry. "Both of us. Why do we have chips in our heads, sir?"

That was news to him. Ben felt the blood drain from his face. " _Chips?_ What kind of chips?"

The medics, who'd been quietly speaking to Jango, looked over at him, and he realised his voice had risen high enough to alert them. And worry them, apparently.

The chief medic was the one to answer him, her voice carefully level and calm. "They're not the standard slave chips we usually check for, that are put near the spine, usually near the nape of the neck. We've never seen these before. It's far smaller than those we're used to seeing and we first mistook it for a bit of shrapnel. It's been inserted near the temple, and its purpose isn't clear. There is no… " she swallowed hard before she went on, "no obvious explosive charge or detonator, as are usually put in a slave chip, but I can't imagine it's got any kind of beneficial purpose."

"Can you remove them?" Jango demanded, voice a little harsh.

"It should be possible, but it will take some planning. The procedure will be a delicate one, even with the use of a medical droid to assist," she replied. "In the meantime, we'd like to check the rest of your _vod'ike_ and determine whether they all have a similar chip or not."

The knot of _Vod'e_ tightened around him, and Ben winced.

"Do it," Cody demanded, his voice still soft, but determined enough to cut transparisteel. "I think I speak for all of us when I say we want those chips _gone_."

The rest of the _Vod'e_ nodded. Ben could feel the apprehension and revulsion coming from them, mirroring his own, and making him feel like his skin was too big for his body with the way their emotions were resonating in the Force, each of them feeling much the same as the last and making the sensation build like a crescendo. Jango looked like he wanted to vomit.

"It'll be alright, Cody," Ben tried to reassure him, knowing that if he could keep Cody level, the other clones would be on a much more even keel, almost automatically. " _Buir_ , Jango, and I will make sure they get taken out and destroyed."

The head medic and her colleague nodded. "The next pair of you, then, if you please," she requested firmly, getting Wooley and Boil.

Helix watched them go, and then started blaming himself. "How did we _miss_ this? It's been years, and not one of our medics ever found them. How did they get there in the first place?"

Cody answered. "The same way none of the rest of us noticed," he suggested, expression grim and a bit haunted. "None of us expected them to be there."

Trust his Commander to think of something like this in tactical terms and treat it like an ambush they hadn't seen coming.

"If we'd had any idea they were there," Ben put in, his own revulsion at the knowledge that his troopers had been karking _chipped without anyone's knowledge_ making him feel nauseous and angry, "we'd have had them removed long ago, Helix. The Jedi condone neither slavery, nor the use of any implanted devices such as these chips, regardless of the form they might take, or their function." 

Ben wanted to wrap his _Vod'e_ up in the most comfortable blankets he could find for them and keep them there until they no longer felt so worn down and miserable. This would not be an easy few rotations.

Jango broke him out of his thoughts. " _Buir,_ " he exclaimed, relieved, "you're here."

Oh, thank the Force. Backup.

Jaster took one look at them, realised just how distressed they all were, and scowled. "Clearly I missed something important," he said. "What happened?"

Jango filled him in quickly, and Jaster's scowl deepened with every word. " _What_ kind of chips? Are you telling me that your _vod'e_ have _slave chips_?"

"Apparently," Jango hissed, his voice shaking and containing a level of emotion that put all his protective anger on display, "the chip is some unknown kind that the medics haven't seen before. They say it will be difficult to remove."

"We will find a way. It _will_ get done," Jaster replied, and Ben knew a sworn oath when he heard one. That had the ring of a promise that he was willing to put himself on the line for.

Ben cleared his throat, and both of them turned to look at him, as though surprised he was still in the room. "If the medics don't know what the chips do, perhaps we should keep one to analyse, rather than destroying them all out of hand," he suggested carefully, finding it difficult to think rationally and logically with the amount of emotion flooding the room and his senses.

This raised so many questions, and it had so many implications. Two of his men, both ranking officers, had these chips. That implied all the officers of the GAR might. And what kind of consequences that might have, Ben didn't even want to consider. What if those chips activated? Or were they already active? Kriff, what if removing the chips was going to cause his _Vod'e_ some kind of harm? Could they be dependent on those chips somehow?

Oh, Force, that didn't bear thinking about. But he couldn't ignore the possibility.

If it came down to a choice between removing the chips and losing Cody? Or any of the others?

Ben wasn't sure he could make that choice.

Thankfully, the medics picked that moment to reappear, distracting him from his spiraling thoughts and worries. They both looked grave, though, and they announced that their findings were the same for Wooley and Boil as they had been for Cody and Waxer. Both were in good health but also had those same chips.

Cold certainty slithered down his spine.

The results for the remaining three _Vod'e_ would be identical.

The medics could check, but Ben didn't need the confirmation. He could tell the clones knew it, too, with the way their worry and stress hit him like a brick to the head.

Had the Kaminoans done this? There was no other immediately obvious way that all seven of his men, all from different batches, and of different ages, could possibly have been given the same chip in the same location. If all of them had undergone a procedure to insert it after he'd finally found Kamino and the cloning facility, there would have been a record of that somewhere. They would have known it was there.

When the eight of them got back to their proper time, the first thing Ben intended to do was determine whether this debacle only affected the 212th. Maybe it was some experimental thing that had been done specifically for his Battalion.

But if not…

That had stunning implications for the entire GAR.

Kriffing sith-hells. If every last man in the GAR had one of these chips, it would be a near impossible logistical challenge to deal with. And it would be even worse if removing those chips somehow incapacitated the men.

"Sir?" Cody's voice was hoarse and his tone caught somewhere between fear and awe. "Why are your eyes glowing?"

Abruptly reminded that he needed to rein in his emotions and at least attempt to regain his balance, Ben closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. He _desperately_ needed to meditate, but for now some controlled breathing would have to suffice.

His men, attuned to him as ever, caught on pretty quickly, and simply did the exercises with him, calming themselves down in the process.

"I let my emotions get the better of me, Cody," he replied quietly, once he was more or less in control again. "It won't happen again, if I can help it."

The pair of medics were giving him worried and awed looks, and Ben realised belatedly that they'd been preparing themselves to deal with eight panicking younglings. Jango had somehow managed to ghost over to stand beside the door, keeping watch, without any of them noticing.

"Well, it's good to know that you can self-regulate," the chief medic commented, sounding like she didn't know whether to be glad of that or terrified for them. "We can take two more of you through, now that you're calm enough."

That time, Crys and Longshot went with them, and Jaster watched them go, his expression dark. He shook his head once, sharply. "When do you think the _jetiise_ sent by the Council will get here?" He asked, offering a distraction.

Ben shrugged, seizing on it gratefully. "Depends on how quickly they can finish arguing and decide whom to send," he answered. "If they move quickly? Two to three rotations from now. If not, it might be far longer. Perhaps even months. If I had to make a prediction on which it will be? Approximately a week from now."

"And what can we expect once they're here?"

"Well, they'll want to determine whether I'm likely to be a threat to them or the galaxy at large," Ben said with a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I will probably be asked to spar with them again, and tested on my knowledge of the Order's dogma, before they decide whether I'm fit to be declared 'safe'. My control of the Force will come under scrutiny, and the Council may also instruct them to determine whether I've fallen to the Dark Side."

Waxer straightened up, indignant on his behalf. "What? But you're the best of them, sir!"

"Your faith in me is appreciated, Waxer," Ben replied gently, "but that's not true. And even if it were, the Order of this time doesn't know me. They know nothing of the War, of my status as a Councilor, of the GAR... All they know is that a rogue force user of a very young age and highly developed skill has appeared out of nowhere. And they're right to worry. I would, too, were I in their position."

The room fell silent after that, as everyone considered his words, and Ben didn't feel the need to speak. He took the opportunity to close his eyes and try to clear his mind, knowing that his men and Jango would keep watch. He needed to recenter himself.

And rest. Knowing Cody and Helix he'd be pulled into a pile of _Vod'e_ and 'convinced' to sleep the moment they had a chance to bed down.

Not that he minded the idea in the slightest, right now. He felt like an emptied canteen, after dealing with all those emotions. Hollow and tired.

He barely registered the change, when Longshot and Crys came back in and the last of the _Vod'e_ , Helix, went with the medics, or when they returned.

Once the medics had finished giving their report to Jango and Jaster, though, Cody prodded gently at his shoulder until his eyes opened, and then almost before he knew it they were being corralled into two speeders and zooming back away from the clinic.


	4. Chapter 4

\--- POV: Jango Fett ---

Jango was grateful that the route back to the palace was one that he had driven so many times that he didn’t even need to think about it. That meant that he could keep most of his attention on his passengers. 

It didn’t escape his notice that the _vod’ike_ had organized themselves into the speeders without input from Jango or their _buir_ , or even one another, but he hadn’t realized until right now that there might be a reason that the group in his speeder contained Cody and Ben. If the _vod’e_ considered Ben to be their biggest gun and Jaster their second biggest, based on either rank or age, then it made sense to put Ben and Jaster in separate transports, giving all of their people the most coverage. 

Jango didn’t want to think that was their logic. It nettled him to be viewed as less dangerous than a twelve year old. The idea that his new _vod’e_ didn’t feel at ease even in their home city also worried him.

Everything was just new to them right now. That was it. They’d settle in.

He still worried. 

He worried a lot. There were all of these little versions of _him_ running around, acting like they were war veterans. And the worst part of it was that they actually _were_ war veterans. 

What could the future possibly hold in store for them that would be enough to convince him that it was necessary to clone himself and then let the Republic use his brothers, his sons, as a slave army? What happened to him in the future that these little soldiers had never met him? 

Jango was very sure that they’d never met the future him. There had been no spark of personal recognition in them when they'd met on Korda VI, just the _ah ha_ moment of having finally met someone in person that they’d only previously heard about. Someone as familiar to them as they were to each other. It soothed him a little to know that at least these _vod’ike_ carried themselves as proper _mando’ad'e_. 

Despite all of his worries and misgivings, Jango liked his new _aliit_. Even the _jetii_. They were smart. Feisty. Frighteningly competent. Honorable and loyal. 

Such loyalty. Jango hadn’t missed how they looked after each other. He and his _buir_ had shared a few private conversations on the matter. Neither of them felt particularly good about the way the little ones expected everything to go horribly wrong, all the time. They were all battle weary. Unable to relax. Jaster had told him to be wary of surprising them; warriors too long in battle often answered surprises with blasterfire. None of them allowed their weapons out of arm's reach either, not even when they slept. And they slept in a pile, which, for all its cuteness, also served to be a very defensive move. If even one of them sensed a threat, Jango had no doubt that _all_ of them would immediately be ready to deal with whatever it was that had woken them. Violently, if necessary.

Jango did like his new _aliit_ , but he watched them, too. If only to try and understand them.

“Alright, General,” Cody said quietly from the seat behind him. “What were you thinking about when we landed? Another bad feeling?”

Helix and Wooley were suspiciously silent. Likely trying to catch every word, just as Jango was. He was a little surprised that Cody would try to pry information out of Ben with him there, but the speeder was relatively private. They were clan now. Maybe that was enough.

“No, nothing like that,” Ben was quick to assure him. Jango could just make out the soft rustle of Ben shifting in his seat, the sound nearly getting lost in the wind. “It’s just…” His voice took on a softer tone. “The Jedi Temple has been my home for a long time. No matter where else I was in the galaxy, I knew the Temple would be there if I needed it.”

“And it’s not any more,” Cody surmised. 

“No.” Ben sounded more resigned than anything else. The sadness in his voice was a distant, controlled thing. More evidence that their crazy story was true. A true child would have been distraught. Kriff, Jango had been when he’d left his family’s farm for the last time years ago, back when he’d been adopted. His parents and sister had died and their farm had lain in ruin. He _couldn’t_ have stayed there, even if he’d wanted to. Despite that, it had been like prying a piece off of his heart to leave. Ben sounded more like he was shouldering an inevitable unpleasant situation. It was a very adult reaction. Controlled.

Jango couldn’t hold his reactions against him. It hurt to lose a home, regardless of the circumstances. Not everyone dealt with those feelings -- with loss -- the same way. Given the conversation he’d overheard between Jaster and Ben on the trip here, he had to wonder just how much of his emotions Ben was repressing.

A glance in the rearview mirror showed that Cody had wrapped an arm around Ben, and that Helix and Wooley had leaned in. They didn’t bother with platitudes. That wouldn’t have helped. 

These new _vod’ike_ of his certainly were a grim little group. Jango was more than a little bothered by it. He and his _buir_ would help them get back to their own time if they could, but with each depressing new thing he learned about them, Jango found himself hoping a little more that it wouldn’t happen. It seemed to him like his _vod’ike_ would be better off trapped in the past. 

He let them marinate in silence for a few minutes longer, and then decided it was time to distract them.

“Once we get to the palace, we’ll need to get you all something to wear that looks less like you got attacked by a loth cat,” he said, keeping his voice light. “I’ve got some cast offs that you can start out in while we get you sized. Then we’ll figure out where you’ll be sleeping.”

Cody, Helix, and Wooley looked vaguely surprised, while Ben looked more chagrined. 

“I don’t suppose you’d be able to find something like robes?” Ben asked. The resignation in his voice made it clear he knew what his chances were on _that_ front. 

Jango gave him a look. The other _vod’ike_ snickered. 

The rest of the trip to the palace went by uneventfully, and the first thing he and his _buir_ did after they'd all gotten back out of the pair of speeders and checked on one another was usher them all to his own room. 

There was a specific wing of the palace set aside for the _Mand’alor_ and their family. It wasn’t Jaster’s permanent home, but it was where he and Jango were staying for the time being. In between contracts, anyways.

“My rooms are there,” Jaster said as he led them down the _Mand'alor_ ’s hall. “If you need anything, let me know. Once you get properly equipped, I’ll give you all my comm frequency as well.”

“Thank you, _buir_ ,” Ben said. The rest of the _vod’ike_ nodded. 

This was a palace, but it was one built by the _Mando'ad'e_. That meant that rooms were all defensible, and that, while the decorations were nice, they weren’t as lavish as those some other planetary governors indulged in. This apparently didn’t bother the _vod’ike_ one bit. They looked around the sitting room in Jango’s suite with wide eyed awe. 

It only took a moment to dig through his closet and find a couple of trunks of old clothes. Most of the _vod’ike_ dug through them with relish. Ben looked less than enthusiastic.

“... They’re all so... tight,” Ben complained quietly, holding up a semi-formal tunic. 

Jango snorted while Jaster clearly tried to smother a grin with his hand.

“Come on, sir,” Boil said as he elbowed Ben’s side. “When was the last time you were out of robes?”

“Every time I’m undercover,” Ben said with a heavy sigh. “I don’t even get stripped out of my robes to be _tortured_. Even _Ventress_ didn’t do that.” The pout on his face was lethal.

His expression was almost adorable enough to make Jango ignore the comment about torture.

Almost. 

Jango’s stomach turned and he had to swallow hard. Kriff. He and his _buir_ exchanged a look of grim promise. They were _not_ giving their new _aliit_ back.

“Shocking, since you keep flirting with her,” Cody said dryly, completely bypassing the _kriffing torture_ portion of that sentence. 

“Politeness hurts no one and gains much,” Ben said with wide, innocent eyes. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and from Cody’s unamused expression he saw it.

The feeling of dread grew in Jango’s stomach. They all talked like this was normal. Like Ben did that sort of thing all the time. Damn it, he was too young to be worried about how much trouble his little _vod’e_ would be getting themselves into. That was their _buir_ ’s job. 

Somehow, Jango thought that their _buir_ might soon have his hands full. 

Rather than even attempting to change in the ‘fresher or in the bedroom, the _vod’ike_ just stripped and changed right there. None of them appeared to have any kind of body shyness, except Ben who very pointedly didn’t look at anyone. Jango wasn’t looking on purpose, but he couldn’t help but see that all of the _vod’ike_ carried scars, though Ben was the least scarred by far. The sight of them made Jango’s chest go tight and anger burn in his throat and his eyes. He and Jaster shared an unhappy glance.

To no one’s surprise, the seven clones fit into Jango’s old clothes perfectly. 

Ben was another matter. He was much thinner than the rest of them. A fact that his robes had hidden from them, until now. Scrawny, Jango would say. Wiry, if he was being generous. He didn’t know enough about kids to know if that was normal, but from the look on their _buir_ ’s face, it wasn’t. 

“We look _so weird_ ,” Waxer said, admiring his new tunic. 

“I know!” Boil said with a grin as he fixed Waxer’s collar. “This is hands down the fanciest thing I have ever worn.”

Jango and Jaster exchanged another worried look.

“These aren’t formal clothes,” Jango said with a small frown. “You will need to be fitted for those, or pick something out of my old stuff, but it’s not urgent. Usually we just wear _beskar’gam_ for... basically everything.” 

“It’s not fatigues, a body glove, or full armor,” Cody said as he buttoned up his own top. He paused and blinked. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn anything else.”

“I certainly haven’t,” Helix added. “It’s nice.”

“It certainly is different…” Ben muttered unhappily.

Jango smothered a snort. He could already tell that getting Ben into armor would be a chore. He’d leave that to his _buir_.

While they were still sorting themselves out, the hall door beeped, indicating that someone required entrance. 

Instantly the _vod’ike_ were on alert. None of them drew their blasters, but all of them looked ready to. They drew together into a tight group with Ben in the middle. Before Jaster could do more than twitch towards the door, Ben raised a hand and his lightsabre hilt flew into it, summoned off of the pile of his old clothes.

“It’s just the tailor,” Jaster said evenly, though Jango could hear a hint of worry in his voice. Since his gaze lingered on the children, Jango knew it was over the _vod’ike_ ’s reaction, not because of the door chime. 

“Of course,” Ben said pleasantly. None of them relaxed. 

Jango felt like he and his _buir_ might as well invent a whole silent language for all the worried glances they were sharing with each other. 

Sure enough, it was just the tailor. Or rather, the tailor’s apprentice come to take measurements. 

The _vod’ike_ didn’t ease up much, but they did at least pretend to act normally. 

The apprentice pursed his lips at the sight of the lightsabre being clipped to Ben’s belt, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead he nodded at Jaster and started rummaging through his bag of equipment. 

“I am Apprentice Vashta,” the teen said, addressing the children. “The _Mand’alor_ has requested new clothes for all of you, so if you would kindly decide who will go first.” His words were stiff and his gaze lingered on Ben.

Ben stepped forward and bowed shallowly. “Our thanks, to both you and our _buir_. I think you will find that the measurements for the rest of my _vod’e_ will be similar to Jango’s, if you have those on record.”

“Better to double check.” Vashta waved Ben over and pointed to where he should stand. 

Cody and Helix followed Ben over, giving him room but staying within easy reach of him. What was more surprising was how the rest of the _vod’ike_ took up defensive positions around the room, keeping easy sightlines of the doors and windows.

The measuring went quickly and the _vod’ike_ kept themselves on guard. There were never more than three of them within reach of the tailor’s apprentice at any given time, but one was always getting measured and the other two very casually standing guard. 

Jango had to keep reminding himself that no matter what they looked like, these were highly trained warriors in a new and unsettling environment. Everything he knew about family and clan was telling him that they shouldn’t be like this. Even if they were scared and unhappy, their reactions were all wrong for their bodies. It kept taking him by surprise. 

He wanted to make it better. Somehow. Wanted to tell them that they needn’t worry here, that this was home. They were safe. 

His head knew that words wouldn’t matter much. Actions and time would take care of the problem. Jango and their _buir_ would do better by just showing them that they didn’t need to be anxious. 

So Jango kept calm and let his body relax. He made small talk with Vashta and his _buir_ about colors and clothing cuts. 

The _vod’ike_ didn’t lose that edge of wariness until Vashta had left.

“Hmmm.” Jaster glanced around the room. “It’s been a long rotation. I still have matters that need my attention, but you all should get to your rooms and get some rest. I’ll have dinner sent to you tonight, but generally Jango and I hold meals in the dining area of this wing.”

“Where do you want them, _buir_?” Jango asked.

Jaster gave the _vod’ike_ a resigned look. “Wherever they’ll agree to go.”

Ben’s eyes twinkled and the rest of his _vod’e_ outright snickered. 

Jaster just sighed and took his leave. 

Jango had to laugh. “Alright, little general. Let’s get you and your troops settled. Gather your things and an extra change of clothes. The new ones won’t be finished for a couple rotations.”

He’d meant the troop comment as a joke, but none of them seemed to take it that way. 

“While the _Mand’alor_ doesn’t usually have so many _ad’e_ , this wing is equipped to handle a reasonable amount of extended family. I think we have enough space for you all to get your own room.” Jango did some quick counting in his head and tried to remember if he was right.

Cody grimaced. “We’d prefer to bunk together.”

Ben looked thoughtful. Then he cast a sheepish glance at Cody. “While I appreciate the benefits of staying together, I wouldn’t mind a small space of my own. I tend to keep odd hours, and I’d rather not wake you all.”

“If you stayed with us then you’d actually get sleep once or twice a week,” Cody replied tartly. 

Apparently this was an old argument between them.

“It would be unfair of me to inconvenience any of you,” Ben said stubbornly. 

The heat from Cody’s glare could have warmed the palace on its own. Ben just looked placidly back at him, immovable as a mountain. 

“Just let him, Commander,” Helix said with a sigh that sounded like it belonged to an ancient grandpa and not a little boy. “I can always sedate him if he starts to backslide.”

Jango had to ask, “Does that need to happen often?”

“More than any of us wants,” Ben said with a grimace. “Especially since I would prefer it to happen not at all.” He raised a very pointed eyebrow at Helix. 

“Ahh, the glorious, restful state of having no reports due, no chain of command to bark at us, no upcoming battle to prepare for,” Boil drawled. 

Crys threw an arm around Boil’s shoulder and added, “No line for the ‘fresher.”

“No regulations,” Waxer said with a grin, eyeing Boil.

“No mid-hyperspace attacks,” Ben added dryly. 

“Again, does that happen often?” Jango was more than a little concerned. He didn’t think that was even possible.

“More often than you might think.” Ben gave him a rueful smirk. “Despite that, I still had my own room on the _Negotiator_. As did you, Cody.”

From the look on Cody’s face, he had a few things to say about that.

“How about we take a look at the rooms,” Jango said before the conversation could devolve further. 

The resulting investigation was the most thorough inspection that Jango had ever been a part of. The _vod’ike_ looked at _everything_. Every exit and entrance to every room in the wing, every nook and cranny, behind all the furniture, and even a quick inspection of the vents and light fixtures. It went shockingly quickly, too. All seven of the soldiers moved as a team, clearing each room one by one, while Ben stood there and did... _something_. He’d stand in the middle of each room and close his eyes. Whatever he was doing, his _vod’e_ all waited for him to finish before moving to the next room.

They managed to find two listening devices, and handed them over to Jango to give to their _buir_.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about them,” Ben said soothingly to him. “They’re probably only there because the rooms are uninhabited.”

In the end, it was Cody who picked the rooms for everyone. The only reason he chose _rooms_ , plural, was because Ben was assigned the one next to Jango’s, with the rest of the _vod’ike_ sharing the suite on the other side of him. 

“All seven of you in the same room?” Jango asked dubiously. 

The suite consisted of a bedroom, a sitting room, and a ‘fresher. There would be enough room for them all. _Barely_. 

“For the moment, yes,” Cody said firmly. “We can grab a couple beds from one of the other rooms.” He still looked a bit disgruntled. Seeing such a grumpy expression on the little boy had Jango smothering snickers again. “Besides, this is more space than we usually have.” He shrugged.

By this point, every one of them was starting to visibly droop. Enough that Jango shooed them all into his room to eat while he had extra mattresses moved into the _vod’e_ ’s room. He would have put them in the dining room, but he thought that they all might be a little more relaxed in a private setting. It had been a long rotation and they were visibly on edge.

To the obvious relief of the rest his _vod’e_ , Ben retired to bed first. He wasn’t quite escorted to his door, but the rest of the children did follow him out and linger in the hall until he was safely inside. Jango drifted after them out of pure curiosity.

The moment Ben’s door shut, Cody turned to look at the rest of his _vod’e_.

“Alright, who wants first watch?” he said.

Jango wanted to interrupt and remind them that the palace had guards on duty, and that no one could get into this wing without passing at least a few patrols. A warning glance from the little Commander bid him to stay silent.

“I got it,” Crys said. “I want a chance at a real bed, though, so someone relieve me?”

“We can do three shifts, there are enough of us,” Cody said with a nod. “Crys is first, then.”

“I’ll take second watch.” Helix raised his hand. “General is most likely to get up and wander during that time.”

“I got third,” Waxer said. “I’ll just snooze on the floor. Easy shift.”

Cody nodded. “Good enough. We’ll rotate for tomorrow night so everyone gets at least a full night’s sleep every other rotation.”

Jango blinked at them, mildly stunned.

Crys handed his extra clothes and old gear to his brothers, detached from the group, and took a seat right in front of Ben’s door. Directly in the way. Someone would have to step on him to get in. Or out.

The rest of the _vod’e_ waved at Jango, bid him goodnight, and then went into their own suite. 

Jango just stood there for a moment. They weren’t guarding themselves. They hadn't set a watch for their own room. They'd set one for _Ben_.

He needed to talk to his _buir_. Tell him what had happened. Maybe ask for some advice. 

Jango liked his new _aliit_ , but they did worry him.

\--

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

His new clothing felt restrictive and he wasn't sure he liked it.

It looked fine, but after decades of wearing nothing but Jedi robes unless he was undercover, it felt so strange. He knew he couldn't go on wearing nothing but his undertunic, which didn't fit him anyway, but this was another step away from the Temple and its way of life.

And he hated that he couldn't tuck his hands in his sleeves.

Ben made a face at his mirror and tugged at his collar one more time before he made himself leave his room. Absently reaching out to look for his men, when their familiar humming buzz wasn't immediately evident, he nearly tripped over Waxer, who'd apparently decided to sleep in the hallway with his back against the wall and his legs sprawled out to block both Ben's door and part of the hallway itself.

His trooper's eyes shot open and he scrambled to his feet. "Sir!"

Ben wanted to sigh. Had the men really decided to do stints on guard duty? He knew the answer was yes, and that nothing would have dissuaded them short of him agreeing to sleep in a pile of clingy clones. Where they could keep watch without having to move.

Deciding not to address that, he suggested, "Let's find something to eat. Are the others awake?"

"Already in the dining room with Jango. _Buir_ had some morning meeting to get to, so he was out early," Waxer informed him, as they started walking. "He didn't say what it was, but the way he was doing his best to avoid talking about it, it probably has to do with the chips in our heads."

"You think the medics already figured out a good way to remove them?" Ben found himself hoping that was the case with an intensity he didn't think he'd felt in years.

"Well, sir, if it was something political to do with the local factions, he'd have told us all about it just so that he could teach us who's involved and what they want. And he could do paperwork more easily from here than anywhere else. There are less distractions. What else is it likely to be?" Waxer pointed out. 

Ben smiled. The clones were all smart and trained to be observant, but sometimes they still managed to astonish him, even despite their long acquaintance. "I expect you're right," he agreed as they stepped into the dining room and the tantalizing smell of an actual cooked morning meal hit him. 

Oh, this was going to be an _indulgence_ worth savouring.

All of the remaining six _Vod'e_ and Jango were present and accounted for, arrayed at the long table and talking quietly amongst each other, but looked up at the sound of their footsteps. The six _Vod'e_ present were humming quietly in the Force, pleased with whatever they were hearing, or perhaps amused. Their _ori'vod_ just felt a bit exasperated.

"General," Boil pointed out a seat to him as he approached, "join us."

Predictably enough it happened to be the one between Cody and Jango. As though his men were trying to make some kind of unsubtle statement.

As he slid into the seat, Jango handed him a plate, already laden with all manner of different things Ben didn't immediately recognise, waited just long enough to see him start tasting the various foods, then turned back to Cody and simply went back to whatever they'd been discussing before he and Waxer had entered the room.

"Armour colours have meaning around here, you know," Jango told Cody mildly. "You may have something specific in mind for that gold you've picked out, but it will mean something very different to any _mando'ad_ that doesn't know you. They might make assumptions."

Intrigued, Waxer jumped into the discussion. "What do you mean, _ori'vod_? What does gold represent, then?"

Ben could guess at which gold they wanted. "Gold is, if I recall correctly, a sign that the wearer is seeking vengeance for something," he said quietly, then continued methodically eating what he'd been given. It was such a treat, all the different tastes and textures playing like light and fire on his tongue. It had been so long since he'd had anything that wasn't reconstituted or field rations... he'd forgotten what a pleasure it could be to enjoy what he was eating.

Jango nodded. "That's exactly what it means, Ben."

Crys made a thoughtful sound. "I don't care if people assume we want vengeance for something. I want to wear our gold," he declared.

Wooley smirked. "The gold may make some people think twice if they think we're dangerous just based on the colour of our armour," he pointed out.

"Those black markings you've picked out, have a meaning too," Jango went on, as Ben finished clearing his plate. "Black is a colour worn by those seeking justice, and sigils tend to be used to declare allegiance or lineage."

Cody smiled, pleased by that. "Perfect."

Jango gave him an exasperated look. "Painting the karking symbol of the _Jedi Order_ on your armour won't win you many friends here, _vod'ike_ ," he said with the air of a man who knew he wasn't going to win an argument but felt he had to try. "Pick something else you can all agree on, so you won't attract all the fire in a two klick radius. Please."

Ben, though he was touched by the gesture, had to agree with Jango's pragmatic approach. "He's right, Cody. I know you're all used to drawing fire wherever you go, but let's not invite more trouble than we must. Why not use the Fleet's symbol instead? That should be suitably nondescript but unique to us."

Boil and Waxer gave him a disappointed look, then brightened. "We can still add it later, _Vod'e_ ," Waxer decided, "going unnoticed is never a bad thing, and we are in unknown territory."

Helix huffed at him. "I can get behind that. If it means I have to patch you up less often, I'm all for it."

Longshot shrugged. "I guess I can agree to wait."

Cody held out a moment or two longer, but eventually nodded.

No one commented on just how obvious it was that Jango only relaxed after getting their Commander to acquiesce.

Jango changed the subject the moment he'd secured the troopers' cooperation, making Ben smile knowingly. Their _ori'vod_ wasn't taking any chances that they might change their minds about waiting to very openly mark themselves as Ben's.

"Then there's two more things we need to discuss," he said, making Ben's smile fade. He knew what was coming, and didn't want to rehash that same argument _again_.

Jango caught and held his eyes as he continued speaking, though his words were directed at the _Vod'e_. "Ben's armour and the matter of your surnames." 

"I've told you before," Ben grumbled. "I can't wear full armour and still move freely on the battlefield. That's not something I will submit to, Jango. I'm a Jedi, and that means not being encumbered as I move. The most I will accept is a gorget, arm guards, and bracers."

Cody snorted, and told Jango, "You won't win that argument, trust me. We've been trying for years to get him to protect himself properly, but it just doesn't take."

"Because everything you've ever tried to cram me into either gets in the way of my lightsabre forms, is far too heavy to easily compensate for as I move, or prevents me from dodging effectively," Ben retorted. "Jedi train to fight without armour, not in it."

"So if we could find you something that doesn't get in your way," Jango asked carefully, "you would use it?"

"I don't have a death wish, if that's what you're implying," Ben answered, irritated and letting it show. "I very much doubt that anything exists that will work, even here on Mandalore, but if you do manage to produce something acceptable out of thin air, I'll try it."

"Good. That's settled, then," Jango said, satisfied, and Ben had to wonder if he'd just been very expertly ambushed. "Now, you lot need to pick a surname," he said to them, his voice firm. "Those callsigns you've picked for yourselves are all well and good, but as family, you have the right to a name that you all share."

The _Vod'e_ all exchanged looks, pensive, then Longshot broke the silence. "Is that another custom that goes with being adopted?" He asked.

"Not a custom, no," Jango told him. "But often those adopted will take on the name of their new _buir_."

Cody hesitated, then carefully asked, "Why did you keep the surname Fett, after _buir_ adopted you?"

Jango's eyes closed for a moment, and when they reopened, he looked a bit haunted. "I wanted to keep that part of my family alive. Before _buir_ took me in, my parents kept a small farm on Concord Dawn. They and my sister were killed by Death Watch."

Ben didn't bother to stop himself from reaching out. His hand ended up on Jango's forearm, offering comfort if it was wanted.

The room was silent for a few long moments, until Jango had managed to shove what had to be horribly painful memories back down and away. "So pick something," he demanded.

Ben spoke up, breaking the slightly tense silence that followed. "I will keep my surname. It is a part of me. _Vod'e_?"

 _Your lead,_ Crys signed to Cody, who caught the others' eyes one by one, getting a nod from each of them in turn. Ben could feel them make the decision to let Cody name them, willing to go with his choice. "We'll take _buir_ 's surname, then," he said, catching Ben's eyes as though looking for approval. 

Not that he would ever dream of disapproving, no matter what they decided to call themselves, but Ben wasn't about to leave him hanging. "A worthy choice," he said with a slight nod, "I'm sure he'll be pleased with your decision."

Jango's lips quirked upward. "You have no idea. You can tell him once he returns."

Deciding to try to get a bit more information out of their _ori'vod_ , Ben asked, "Where did he go? I thought he was planning to join us for our meal."

"I'll let him tell you himself," Jango answered, smirking and pleased with himself. "For the time being, you and your _vod'e_ are coming with me. We've got an appointment with _buir_ 's clan armourer in less than half an hour, and she gets annoyed if you show up late."

The clones looked surprised but pleased, at that. Ben eyed Jango. "You mean to tell me you're going to ask her to produce seven sets of armour in the same size out of nowhere?"

"Nah," Jango's smirk widened. " _Buir_ contacted her before we made planetfall. She knows what to expect. The first sets of armour we wear as _mando'ad'e_ are almost always inherited from our _buir_ or an _ori'vod_ , though we're encouraged to paint it and add our own touches to it while it's in our hands. It would be far too expensive to replace a set of armour once a year, just because you've outgrown it, so in most families those sets of armour get handed down for generations. In just about every settlement on Mandalore, there are plenty of spares to be found. The armourers keep them on hand for occasions like this, when a _mando'ad_ brings home a new _ad_ and needs to kit them out properly, or a pair of _riduur'e_ has many daughters."

He should really have expected that. Armour was expensive to start with, and the famed mandalorian _beskar'gam_ even moreso. Of course, armour would be handed down.

Seeing that Ben wasn't going to continue protesting, Jango pushed back his chair and stood. "Come on, _vod'ike,_ " he commanded, "you'll all feel better once you're armoured up properly."

Well, that was certainly true.

"That's a kriffing understatement," Waxer muttered, as he and the others stood to follow Jango. All seven of his men were definitely excited about that prospect. They missed their armour like he missed his robes, and Ben knew it.

Cody caught Ben's attention, waiting until he stood to join them, the other _Vod'e_ waiting patiently with him until their General acceded to their very pointed silent request. Only then did Cody start to walk after Jango. The other six _Vod'e_ formed up around and behind them, cutting off any subtle escape Ben might've tried to effect.

They knew him a bit too well for comfort, he reflected, swallowing back his sigh and allowing himself to be marched down the corridors after Jango.

The armourer's demesne was bright and airy, against all of Ben's expectations. There were tools and armour plates littering every available surface, and several sets of assembled _beskar'gam_ on stands, clearly either newly made or freshly repaired, waiting for their owners. Massive, detailed murals in hard-wearing metals and paints lined the walls near the main doorway, lending an almost museum-like feel to parts of the otherwise very utilitarian space. Ben recognised one as being an image depicting the Jedi-Mandalorian wars, fought centuries ago.

His _Vod'e_ took in the space as well, cataloguing everything, and a sense of awe and respect mixed and mingled with their excitement. Their positive emotion felt like the comforting hum of his lightsabre, which he'd kept stubbornly clipped to his own belt at his hip. The belt, scavenged from his old set of robes, went around his waist twice over and looked a bit odd layered over his newly acquired tunic and leggings. Not that he cared a whit. He wasn't about to leave his 'sabre in his rooms -- for a number of reasons. The crystals in his 'sabre hilt all but purred at him in satisfaction at the thought.

The armourer herself stood roughly in the center of the large room, and watched them closely as they entered, her expression closed off and stance betraying her willingness to use her strength if need be. Ben eyed her right back. This was Mandalore; she was doubtless just as much of a warrior as Jango, and it showed, both in the way she held herself and in the gleaming _beskar’gam_ that she wore. Her dark hair was tied back in a neat knot at the nape of her neck and she was easily as tall as Jaster. In addition to the blaster holster at her left hip, she had a hammer hanging off her belt on the other side.

Jango stepped fearlessly right up to her, and offered her his hand. "Well met, Ardanna," he greeted her.

"Jango," she replied in kind, gripping his forearm in greeting as he did the same. "Has your _buir_ gone mad?" Ardanna eyed Ben in particular, wary and ... not hostile, exactly, but with old well-remembered injury colouring her emotions in the Force. "Adopting a _jetii_ and bringing him back here?"

"That _jetii_ saved all our hides on Korda," Jango answered her easily. "My _buir_ and I owe him a lifedebt. I'll tell you all about it after the noon meal."

That simple statement caught her off her guard as much as it did Ben, making her expression go carefully blank and controlled. Ardanna took another long look at him, then simply said, "He's a scrawny little thing. I doubt I'll easily find a set that will fit him among the spares I have."

"I don't want armour, anyway," Ben told her, "so that's perfectly alright."

Ardanna shook her head, as though he was being particularly stupid. "You may have been a _jetii_ before the _Mand'alor_ chose to adopt you, but now you are _mando'ad_ , and _mando'ad'e_ adhere to the _Resol'nare_ ," she said firmly. "You _will_ wear armour. I will not permit you to shame your _buir_ like that."

Oh.

Oh kriff. Ben wanted to kick himself, even as he carefully ignored Jango's amusement and his troopers' carefully hidden glee.

No wonder Jango hadn't fought him harder on the issue. He didn't have to. Everyone else around him was going to remind him that he'd chosen to go with Jaster, and now he had to live with the consequences. And how had he forgotten to factor in the importance of appearances? He knew better than that.

Whatever opinions he might have about wearing armour, he didn't want to cause his _buir_ any trouble. Had anyone else been the one to adopt him, Ben might've stuck to his guns, but he couldn't afford to weaken the _Mand'alor_ 's position at all. He knew just how strained the internal Mandalorian politics of this time were. Satine had told him about her father and the civil war, and he'd read far more on the matter once he'd gotten back to the Temple.

He could treat this as a potentially very long undercover mission.

He could.

Drawing a deep breath and letting it back out, Ben dropped his chin in concession. "Very well, but I get to choose what armour I wear and how I wear it." Ardanna tried to stare him down, but Ben wasn't about to back down on that point. "Too much armour will only slow me down and leave me open to taking fire in combat that I wouldn't without it," he told her.

She looked over at Jango for some kind of confirmation of that, and got a shrug in response. "He keeps insisting that that's true," Jango said, "but I can't tell you whether or not it is. I've only seen him fight once, and at the time he wore no armour at all."

Huffing to herself and muttering about stubborn _ad'e_ who didn't know the value of sturdy armour, Ardanna shook her head. "Fine. I'll outfit the rest of your _vod'e_ first, _jetii_. Judging by their resemblance to their _ori'vod_ , they'll appreciate my work a lot more. While I do that, you will discuss exactly what you want with Jango."

"He's used to wearing a gorget, upper arm guards and bracers," Cody put in, clearly not willing to let him shed those. "It won't be easy to convince him to wear more."

Ardanna gave him a nod. "Good to know," she said, then turned back to Ben. "There are variants of our armour that allow for much more physical flexibility than what is often favoured by our wandering _verd'e_. I will find you one set of each style, and you will test them."

Resigned to his fate, Ben asked. "And if I don't like any of them?"

"We will find you something that you will accept," Ardanna conceded, seeing that he'd accepted her ultimatum and turned to Cody, whom she'd clearly singled out as the clones' leader. "I will start with this one. What is your name, _verd'ika_?"

"Cody," he answered, only giving her the callsign he was used to.

Ardanna didn't miss a beat, asking, "And will you be taking your _buir_ 's surname?"

Ben could see the realisation wash over Cody's face, and then he nodded firmly. "Yes."

"Well, then, Cody Mereel, let's get you kitted out," Ardanna suggested, and led him deeper into the armoury. "Jango, keep an eye on the rest of your _vod'ike_."

He followed her eagerly, clearly itching to get his hands on armour that would fit him, and Waxer sighed wistfully as they went.

Boil put a hand on his _Vod_ 's shoulder, "The armourer is an efficient kind of person, Waxer," he said, sympathetic, "and the Commander knows what to look for in armour. It won't take her long to outfit him."

"Or the rest of us," Longshot agreed.

"Force, I can't wait," Helix put in, sounding like he was about to physically start vibrating if he didn't get his turn with the Master Armourer soon. "It feels unnatural not to have armour on, after wearing it daily for so long."

Crys turned to Jango, and said, "You said we could paint this armour, but not where we could find the paint."

"Let Ardanna get you all fitted, and then I'll show you," Jango replied with a grin, visibly enjoying the clones' enthusiasm. "Ben, you've seen the armour _buir_ and I use. There are some lighter sets that are mostly for ceremonial use, but I'm sure Ardanna could find a way to make them more practical."

Wooley jumped in. "Don't you have different kinds of armour for your scouts and your foot troops?"

"Not really," Jango told him. "Our armour is designed to be versatile right from the start, so that it doesn't matter what role we're called on to play in a fight. A bounty hunter who's armoured up to play scout can't take heavy hits, and very quickly becomes a very dead bounty hunter."

"That makes sense," Waxer nodded. "A bounty hunter wouldn't have backup. But the General will."

The implication that the clones would be that backup was clear to everyone in the room.

Jango nodded, "Sure, but what if you get separated?"

Boil and Helix scowled. "That's extremely unlikely to happen. We'd all have to be incapacitated or dead," Boil pointed out.

To his credit, Jango's flinch was small and didn't show just how much that statement upset him, but Ben could feel it resonate around him in the Force. Catching and holding Boil's eyes, Jango answered, "The point, _vod'ika_ , is that we're trying to make sure that kind of sacrifice isn't necessary, and versatile armour is a big help in that."

"None of you is going to sacrifice yourselves for me," Ben said sharply. "I won't allow it."

The clones all exchanged looks but said nothing. Ben knew that meant they were going to do as they karking well pleased, and he could do nothing about it short of making it a direct order. Which, he knew, they would cheerfully ignore if they felt it was necessary and disobeying wouldn't get anyone killed. They had before. The clones had never been inclined to follow orders blindly, though they had been willing to follow those Jedi Generals they respected without questioning them much.

Ben had seen the evolution in their attitudes toward him, though. As they'd gotten more comfortable with him and learned what degree of flexibility he was willing to allow them in just how creatively they followed the orders he gave, his men had gotten significantly bolder, and begun asserting themselves more.

From there, the behaviour had begun spreading to the other Legions and Battalions of the 7th Sky Corps. Captain Rex had become especially intractable about certain things with regard to the way Anakin handled the 501st, which had sometimes caused friction between them despite their close working relationship and friendship.

Ben had no doubt that Cody was well on his way to following Rex's example... and the men of the 212th were clearly taking their cues from their Commander in such matters.

Before anyone spoke up to break the slightly tense silence that had fallen between them, Ardanna and Cody came back to rejoin them. A tension that Ben had barely noticed was simply gone from Cody's stance, as though it had never been. He wore armour that looked almost identical to Jango's, though the metal was bare and unpainted, and he carried the signature Mandalorian helm tucked under his right arm. "So how do I look?" He asked them with a pleased smile, his stance wide and easy.

And too kriffing much for Ben to deal with. Looking away, he focused on the armourer, who was watching him in turn without saying a word.

Waxer grinned broadly back at his Commander. "Looking lethal, sir," he answered, then turned to Ardanna. "I want a set just like that!"

She laughed, pleased by the implied compliment to her ability, and said, "I think we can make that happen. This way."

It took significantly less time for her to get Waxer fitted, and then one-by-one all the others followed, each fitting going by more quickly than the last. 

About a half hour after they'd entered the armourer's workshop, the clones were all outfitted, and they felt so much more at ease that Ben was relaxing right along with them, their relief clear in the Force. He was almost looking forward to testing out those armour variants Ardanna had promised him, buoyed by the enthusiasm his men had for their own new gear. Not one of them cared a whit that it was on loan, and Ben could tell that the workmanship was excellent.

Ardanna caught his eyes, then. "Well, _jetii_?" She asked him pointedly. "Shall we see if we can find you something that fits?"

"Lead the way," he answered. "I can not and will not promise that I will simply choose something, but I will give it a chance."

"Good enough," she accepted that. "Come."

He heard the clones excitedly comparing notes about their new armour's capabilities behind him as he left the group in Jango's hands, and couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips.

The armourer led him into a smaller side room off the main workshop that appeared to do double duty as both fitting room and storage for spare armour plates in a variety of sizes. Ardanna sized him up, then grabbed for something that looked a lot like his troopers' blacks. "Here, try this on," she commanded, then turned and left the room, clearly expecting to be obeyed.

Ben eyed the thing warily for a moment, turning it over in his hands and getting a feel for how it moved against the skin of his hands. It was a lot smoother than he'd expected.

Ardanna cleared her throat pointedly. "I don't have all rotation, _jetii_."

"My name," he shot back, letting his own tone go a little sharper, "is Ben Kenobi. Not _jetii_."

That made her chuckle. "Good, you do have a bit of spine in you. Are you wearing that body stocking?"

"Trying to work out how to put it on," he snarked, as he quickly stripped off the clothing he'd been wearing and pulled the thing over his legs. "Zippers and magnet strips are very difficult, you know."

Amused, she huffed at him. "I'm sure they must be, for someone used to those ridiculous robes you _jetiise_ are so fond of."

"Well, now that I've given up what little dignity I had," Ben prompted her, "what else do I have to try on?"

Ardanna turned and reentered the room. "We'll start with the standard armour set and see which parts of it work and which don't," she told him. "The bucket is non-negotiable, but the rest should be possible to tailor to what you want. To a degree at least."

That would take some getting used to, but it wasn't as though he needed his eyes to fight. Even if the bucket restricted his field of vision, he'd find a way to cope. "Fine."

It took her a few tries to find a chestplate and matching backplate that fit him, but once she did, the rest of the pieces followed in quick succession, getting easily and expertly fitted over the body stocking.

She took a step back once he was wearing all of it and looked him over critically. "It's not perfect, but it will do. Take that set and test it out thoroughly. If you want to remove a part of it, I'll need to know why it doesn't work, so that I can find you a more suitable alternative. If your only complaint is the weight, that will be far easier to address than the design itself. I can find or forge some plates in lighter materials."

That... was a very methodical way of going about fulfilling his request for armour that would do what he needed. A far more pragmatic approach than the Order had taken in simply requiring its generals to wear partial armour over their robes, regardless of fit, function, or appearance. "I suppose that's reasonable, Armourer. Alright, I will do as you ask. For _buir_ 's sake."

"My name," she said, with a smirk, as she borrowed his words and handed him a bucket of his own, "is Ardanna, _ad_."

She waited until he awkwardly got it tucked under his forearm the way he'd seen his troopers carry theirs. Then, hooking a hand into one of his pauldrons, she turned him bodily toward the door and gave him a little shove to get him moving. "Take those clothes of yours with you, and get back to your _vod'e_."

There was nothing much for it, so Ben gathered up the leggings and tunic he'd stripped off and preceded Ardanna out of the little side room.

Preoccupied with juggling helm and clothing, he nearly missed the way the _Vod'e_ all fell silent, the moment he came into view.

"Looking good, General," Cody managed to say as he approached them, awe bleeding into his voice and his Force signature. "It suits you."

Ben shrugged. "I won't be keeping all of it, but seeing as I've been reminded that to make effective changes, I need to know what to change, how, and what I want to accomplish with the change, I'll need to find someplace to train properly, and possibly someone to spar with."

"How are you going to manage that, General?" Helix asked him. "There aren't any other Jedi on Mandalore, that I know of."

"All I probably need to do," Ben reminded him, "is wait a few rotations."

Jango nodded. "That will give Ardanna time to source any materials she might need," he put in, then turned to the armourer. "We thank you for your work, Ardanna."

Ardanna gave him a smirk. "I'm well-rewarded for my efforts, Jango," she said. "And most of your _vod'ike_ were quite easy to kit out. But I do have several commissions awaiting my attention."

"Of course," Ben spoke up, then. "We'll get out of your way. Come on, Cody, I think it's time you put that armour through its paces."

That got him a broad grin from Jango, who offered, "Let's go down to the training yard, then."

They were intercepted before they reached their destination. Jaster turned up just before Jango could open the doors that would let them out of the palace and onto the wide rectangular area beyond.

"Ardanna is worth every last credit we pay her," he commented, looking them over.

"Definitely," Jango agreed. "The _verd'ike_ wanted to test out their new armour. I think I might help them."

That got Cody's attention immediately. "Help us, how?"

Jango gave him a wolfish grin. "I'll let you test it out against an opponent who knows all its tricks."

Cody grinned back. "You think you can take us all?"

"Until you have a handle on your new HUD and how the armour itself reacts? Yeah. I do."

Oh no.

Well, Jango would soon learn what kind of misstep he'd made, issuing that kind of challenge.

Jaster looked like he was caught between a smirk and a sigh. "You know the rules, _ad_."

"Of course, _buir_ ," Jango acknowledged that immediately. "No injuries severe enough to require a medic."

Jaster got nods from all of the _Vod'e_ , as well. And then the seven of them simply shoved open the door and spread out to investigate the playing field. Jango watched them go, taken slightly off guard by the very efficient way they moved, then shook his head and followed them out into the yard.

The _Mand'alor_ picked that moment to catch Ben's attention and asked, "Aren't you going to join them, _ad_?"

Ben laughed. "Not this time, no. I'll let Jango figure out what kind of error he just made, issuing that kind of challenge to my men, before I compound it."

Staring at him in surprise for a moment, Jaster followed the _Vod'e_ and Jango out onto the field, waiting just long enough for Ben to join him before he spoke again. "We'll see. Jango's no slouch, either."

"Perhaps not," Ben acknowledged, having seen just how good their _ori'vod_ was with a blaster, "but he's alone against a group of my men. If I were to join in, it would just be unfair."

The _Vod'e_ had finished their survey of the yard in the time he and Jaster had exchanged those few sentences, so the two of them were treated to the sight of seven helmets getting pulled on and seven salutes offered to Jango.

Jango returned the salute, and the match was officially on.

"Now watch," Ben said quietly as the group of clones scattered, falling back into positions that mutually reinforced one another, in a move that Jango clearly hadn't expected.

In the moment that he took to try to work out what they were doing and react, two grappling cables whipped out and tangled his calves. A quick yank and Jango was sprawled on the ground and Cody was standing over him, a foot planted firmly on Jango's chestplate.

Jaster couldn't help the quiet chuckle that burst out of him. "Clever move," he said, half to himself.

Jango wasn't about to give up that easily, though. Reacting quickly, he cut the lines tangled around his legs with a vibroknife he'd apparently kept stashed somewhere on his person, then simply lunged upwards, sending Cody sprawling with the unexpected move.

Two more of the clones were ready for him, though, having simply been waiting, ready, watching their Commander's back. Boil tackled Jango from the waist, and Waxer hauled Cody back up to his feet. Crys and Longshot, positioned on opposite sides of Jango, used their own grappling lines to grab Jango's arms, wrenching him around awkwardly as he tried to regain his balance.

Cody took advantage of that to sweep Jango's feet and put him on his back again.

With a snarl, Jango changed tactics, rolling to one side until he could get free of the next two cables then taking to the air and trying to put himself out of reach.

The clones didn't let that deter them in the least. Those whose grappling cables had been cut simply pulled back, clustering together in a defensible position, while the other three exchanged a look, then simply used their own grappling cables to try to haul Jango back down out of the air.

The thrusters in his armour, not designed to take the weight of the wearer and three clone troopers, whined and protested.

Leaning forward and sending himself towards the cluster of _Vod'e_ that were waiting for their brothers to bring him into reach, Jango tried to use the clones pulling him down to knock over or tangle up the others.

Instead, he ended up with seven clones pulling at the grappling lines rather than three, and swore loudly enough that Ben could hear him.

Cutting the power to his jetpack, Jango let himself drop, forcing the clones to scatter.

The reprieve he'd gotten himself didn't last long, though. The _Vod'e_ were back on him before he could properly take advantage of it, and within moments, he was pinned firmly to the ground.

Not a single shot had been fired.

Ben smirked at Jaster. "Now imagine what they could do with blasters in their hands, and a Jedi leading them."

"I'm not certain I want to," Jaster muttered, watching as Jango surrendered more or less gracefully and the clones immediately let him go and helped him to his feet, laughing and offering advice.

Jango led the pack of them back over to where Jaster stood with Ben. " _Buir_ , next time I decide to try to fight against overwhelming odds, remind me of this rotation," he grumbled good naturedly.

Ben chuckled. "One man is rarely good enough to survive against a well-trained group. They may look like they're younger than you, but they have at least as much combat experience. Maybe more."

Cody, Wooley, and Crys took their helmets off and grinned at Jango. "The 212th is known as one of the most dangerous units in the GAR for a reason," Cody put in, "and of the Companies making up the Battalion, only Ghost Company," he indicated his men with a distinct gleam of pride in his eye, "can keep up with General Kenobi."

"Terrifying," Jaster said, mostly under his breath.

The rest of the _Vod'e_ removed their helmets, then, all seven of them quietly humming with amusement, pride and pleasure at the compliment from their _buir_ , and Cody changed the topic. "Did you find out anything interesting at your meeting, _buir_?" He asked with an expectant look. "It's pretty obvious you went out to meet with the medics about those chips they discovered."

Immediately distracted from the idea of practicing his katas by that exchange, Ben decided in-depth testing of the flexibility of his new armour could wait. The chips' removal was far more important, and he could do that testing of his armour when the Jedi Master sent by the Council showed up.

Jango stared at Cody in what looked like shock. Jaster simply shook his head. "I don't know why I'm surprised that you worked it out. We should discuss that where we have a bit more privacy. The yard might be empty for the moment, but this is a family matter."

"The dining area Jango showed us this morning should suffice for that, _buir_ ," Boil suggested. The others nodded.

It was a solid choice, really. Large enough to seat all of them and private enough for no one to interrupt them, and they'd checked it for listening devices the night before. 

Relocating their little group there didn't take long. Only a few minutes later, all ten of them were seated at the long table and Jaster was meeting their eyes one by one. "The medics have informed me that they have found a way to remove the chips that has a high likelihood of success," he opened, and Ben felt the sharp spike of relief that went through his men at the news, "but they need to make arrangements with two of the other major clinics on planet to bring in specialists and equipment."

Cody caught Helix's attention, knowing the _Vod_ was likely to start asking questions about the procedure that Jaster wouldn't have the answers to. Helix gave him a nod, and Ben knew that for a promise to look into it once they had access to the doctors who would be doing the surgeries.

Jaster watched them carefully, looking for any sign of upset no doubt. "If the seven of you are ready, they tell me they can remove the first two chips two rotations from today," he added.

"That's good news, _buir_ ," Cody spoke up. "Thank you. We'll decide who will be the first and let you know. I'd suggest giving Helix the comm frequency of the head medic that cleared us, as I assume that will be the person in charge of the surgeries. He'll want to know more about how it's done and the recovery time needed."

Jango looked over at Helix, puzzlement showing on his face briefly before it cleared. "Right. You're trained as a medic yourself, aren't you," he said when the pieces fell into place.

Helix shrugged. "I am, but that doesn't make my _Vod'e_ any more likely to take my advice," he grumbled. "Even Kix has a higher success chance, and he's assigned to General Skywalker's 501st."

Crys scoffed. "That's because you're a lot more conservative than Kix in what you consider permissible," he responded dryly. "Telling a _Vod_ not to do something is generally considered a dare, and you know it."

"And that's why I'm going grey long before I should," Helix retorted, getting snickers from all the assembled _Vod'e_ , for the sheer ridiculousness of the complaint. 

"Right," Cody jumped back into the conversation. "Unless anyone else has something relevant to add, I think we're done here."

"Sir," Longshot spoke up, instantly getting everyone's attention, "Crys and I should go first."

Ben wasn't sure opening that discussion with Jaster and Jango in the room was the best idea, but the amount of trust it showed made him want to smile.

"Why's that, Longshot?" He asked, mostly for the benefit of their _ori'vod_ and _buir_ , as he was pretty sure he could follow the logic. 

The glance Longshot gave him said he could see exactly what Ben was doing, trying to give Jaster and Jango a glimpse into how they worked, but he answered gamely enough. "Well, we should wait and see how this surgery affects us before the Commander takes a turn, and once the two of us are recovered you'll have a slicer and a sniper to help keep watch as the rest of us get those chips removed."

Jaster looked like he couldn't decide whether to be impressed or horrified.

Ben found he more or less agreed, on reflection. His men were so young, yet, but still thought everything through in tactical terms. Worryingly, he'd noticed that that sort of thinking was particularly pronounced when it related to any kind of medical procedure. Though he couldn't confirm it without asking questions that would upset him as well as his _Vod'e_ , he suspected that particular habit had originated on Kamino. And that there was very good reason for it. 

He knew better than to try to take that hill head on without a guarantee of success, much less right now, when their usually calm background hum had taken on a strong tinge of anxiety and nerves. "Sounds reasonable to me," he agreed. "And I'm sure Helix will want to observe as you recover, given your unique requirements."

That got Jaster's attention away from the horror Ben could feel squirming in him at the tone of their discussion. "What do you mean by 'unique requirements'?" He demanded sharply, protectiveness flaring again.

"Our immune systems and genetics have been... adjusted. Improved over a baseline human's, supposedly. Certain types of drugs don't work on us at all, and others work too well. That's why the General suggested you let me talk to the medics directly," Helix answered in Ben's stead, his signature in the Force going a bit conflicted and discordant with a mix of growing trust and ingrained caution. 

"I think," Jaster said slowly, carefully, "that I would like to listen in on or join that conversation, Helix. That is the sort of thing that could be vital for me to know."

Ben watched the _Vod'e_ exchange looks again, each of them acquiescing until Cody was staring down Helix. Eventually, they both nodded, decision made.

"That information goes no further than you or Jango," Cody said firmly. "If anyone else gets a hold of it, it could easily mean trouble. As it is, we're not strictly comfortable with telling the medics, but there's no other way forward."

Jango didn't say a word, but Ben could see how conflicted he was about hearing that flat statement. He hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded.

"Very well," Jaster agreed. "Now, I believe it's time for a change of topic. Ben, your _vod'e_ have started testing their armour and training. You haven't. What are you planning?"

"Who says I'm planning anything?" Ben retorted with a smirk even he knew was filled with havoc and mischief.

Boil snorted loudly, distracted from his anxiety over the chips and upcoming medical procedure by his skepticism. "You're always planning something, General," he said, as the rest of the _Vod'e_ all turned to give him expressive looks of disbelief.

"Oh, alright," Ben gave in, letting his smirk turn into a small smile. "If you must know, _buir_ ," he teased lightly, "I was going to stick to practicing lightsabre katas until those Jedi sent to evaluate me arrive, as I doubt it will take too much longer. The katas will be enough to let me determine which aspects of the armour I've been given need adjustment, at least on a preliminary level, and once I have the opportunity to spar with the Jedi, I'll be able to make some more informed decisions. But I can already tell you it's too heavy and will not allow me to bend in the ways I'm used to."

Jaster considered that. "You'd know your fighting style better than I would," he conceded. "I suppose the rest of you will continue training with Jango, once you've all recovered from having those chips removed." 

The change of topic was a very clever one, Ben reflected, being something that all of the _Vod'e_ would find engaging and have an opinion on. It would make for an excellent distraction from the issue of the chips.

"The question is: is he willing to train with us?" Wooley replied, with enough amusement in his voice to show that he meant no insult at all. "He's good, but he's outnumbered, after all."

Jango snorted. "After your little display with those grappling lines, I'm not sure I _am_ willing," he replied in kind. "I've never seen anyone try that before."

"It's not a standard maneuver of ours, if that's what you're asking," Boil said, grinning. "We're just used to being creative with the supplies we have on hand."

Cody gave him a wry look, and added, "We kind of have to be, what with the messes our General drags us into."

"Now, we've been over this, Cody," Ben defended himself lazily. "The vast majority of those messes are not my fault. Including this one."

The comment got him supremely skeptical looks from the clones arrayed around him.

"Sure," Cody said, "you tell yourself that. Your Council might believe you, but I know you too well to buy it."

"Well, first Anakin charged off after Grievous, forcing me to follow, and then you did much the same," Ben pointed out. "In fact, Anakin gets me into these messes more often than not. And of course the Council believes me. Why wouldn't they?"

"And who was it that trained General Skywalker?" Cody asked him, his tone as innocent as he could make it. "Oh right, that was you, wasn't it, sir? Considering how that went, I'd be shocked that you have any credibility left with the Council, if you weren't on it yourself."

Before Ben could protest Jaster cleared his throat. "You... are on the Jedi High Council, Ben?"

Kriff.

Realising that they'd given away something they maybe shouldn't have, Ben stopped in his verbal tracks. Cody swallowed hard, his stressed expression coming right back as he tensed and his usual calm hum went rather louder and harsher. The Commander looked like he would rather have faced an army of tinnies on his own than the consequences of that little conversational blunder.

Oh well. "I was, yes."

Jango made a pained face. "Well, that explains a few things," he said to his _buir_.

"It does," Jaster agreed, his eyes not leaving Ben and Cody. "Ben knows too much about too many things to be just any _jetii_. I knew that from the start. But a Councilor. Karking hell."

Well, that certainly wasn't the reaction Ben would have expected of them. It was like they were becoming resigned to the fact that they would be finding out things about him and his _Vod'e_ that shocked and appalled them. Almost blasé.

"Well, I didn't have much choice but to accept the seat when it was offered to me," Ben said wearily. "There was no one else of the required ability and stability to take on the job."

"Your sense of duty is going to get you in over your head at some point, General," Cody grumbled, his stress gradually fading away again and leaving behind a sense of affection and exasperation. "But that particular decision brought you to us and I can't regret that."

Ben cleared his throat awkwardly, unable to even attempt to ignore the way Cody was staring into his eyes as he spoke. The strongly resonating affection and fondness -- Ben didn't dare name what he suspected the intensity of those emotions implied -- left him briefly at a loss for words and the conversation died out there, leaving the room in silence until Waxer shoved back his chair and stood.

"I don't know about the rest of you," he addressed his _Vod'e_ , "but we have time to waste until the evening meal and I want to try out the other toys in my new armour. Anyone else?"

That got the lot of them moving, save Helix. "You six go play," he said, shaking his head, "I have a medic to interrogate. I fully expect at least one of you to bring me up to speed later, though, _Vod'e_."


	5. Chapter 5

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Roughly an hour and a half after they'd returned to the training yard, this time armed with their blasters and the slightly eclectic assortment of other pieces of field kit they'd been able to scavenge from their sets of plastoid armour, Helix had eventually rejoined them.

Ben had felt the way his troopers had all relaxed, the moment their medic had come into view, irrationally relieved to see that he was alright, for all that they'd known he was and that he'd have called for help if he wasn't. They'd reverted to their tactic of always traveling in pairs or groups, based on what Ben could see. He hadn't asked them about it. It was standard operating protocol in unfamiliar environments, and not all that unreasonable, at this point. They knew they could rely on their _buir_ and Jango, but there were many other people in the palace, even without taking into consideration the staff and maintenance workers and the like.

One of their number going somewhere solo... wasn't impossible or unmanageable. But it made his troopers distinctly uncomfortable. No doubt the fact that _buir_ had been with Helix was the biggest mitigating factor, this time.

Having followed his _Vod'e_ down to the training yard, Ben had staked out a place to sit and spectate as they held an impromptu marksmanship competition -- it didn't matter that they knew who was likely to win, they tried their damndest anyway -- and ran the obstacle course to test out their new toys and figure out how well they worked with the old ones. The grappling lines weren't new, nor were the flamethrowers or the hidden sheathes under their bracers, but the locations of the tools on their persons and the range and capacity were very different from what they were used to and they all knew they would have to practice with the new gear quite a bit to stop themselves from reflexively reaching for something that wasn't there. Or trying to grapple something out of reach. Or draw a blaster that was suddenly holstered on the other hip.

Perhaps more importantly, though, the drills and physical activity gave them an outlet for the emotions they'd been fighting to contain throughout the morning and the discussion with their _buir_.

Their harsh stressed buzz, which had been giving Ben a consistent sense of unease, had lessened again as they'd flung themselves around the training yard, blasters blazing, until it was barely there.

Rather than interrupt the fun to give a report when he arrived to join them, Helix simply took his usual place in their very unconventional understrength squad and borrowed a blaster pistol from Waxer. "The details should be settled now," he said, just loudly enough to be heard over the sound of the blasterfire lighting up the targets at the far end of the range. "It's going to take a steady hand to execute, which is why they needed to find a specialist. There aren't many medics out here on the Outer Rim that are qualified to do the equivalent of brain surgery, even with the assistance of a good medical droid."

Cody frowned. Ben could feel the emotion that went with it, for all that the expression was hidden under his Commander's bucket. "I thought the medics who discovered the things said the chips were on the outsides of our skulls," he commented. "Why brain surgery?'

Helix acknowledged that with a bob of his head. "The chip is, sir," he confirmed, "but there are some very fine filaments that connect to it and pierce the cranium. Detaching them safely will be the tricky part of the operation."

Feeling a wave of cold anger wash over him as he listened, Ben fought to maintain his equilibrium. The existence of this chip got more monstrous every time he learned something new about it. 

Waxer made a sound of disgust. "Why am I not surprised that whoever put that thing in us made sure it would be difficult to remove," he muttered.

"Because it's evil," Ben said, surprising himself and the _Vod'e_ with the vehemence of his words.

All his men all stared at him -- he very rarely spoke in absolutes like that -- and didn't move for a moment, unsure how to respond.

Cody took charge when Ben didn't continue, giving him a slightly uneasy glance before turning back to Helix. "What's the estimated recovery time from this surgery? Expected side effects? Therapeutic measures?"

"The medics predict a recovery time of two rotations in cases without complications. I expect we'll be fully back on our feet in approximately twelve standard hours, given proper levels of hydration and food. As to side effects," Helix took a breath and held it for a few long seconds. "It should be safe enough. All of the drugs are standard and available in every field kit in the GAR. Moreover, statistically, there's no risk of permanent injury until they start trying to detach those filaments. Up until then all that's required is a small incision near the scalp."

Boil swallowed hard. "But...?"

"But there's a nonzero chance that while the medics are detaching those filaments they could cause damage resulting in internal bleeding, damage to the optic and vagus nerves, coma, or death," Helix recited, voice wavering a little. "So long as the medic isn't jostled or shaky, it should be no problem, but there is a risk."

Ben bit at his lip. That sounded dire. What the karking hells was this chip _for_? "You told _buir_ , Helix?" He asked, careful to keep his own voice as calm and even as he could. 

"He knows, sir," Helix said with a nod. 

Cody held up a hand, immediately getting everyone's attention. "Do you think it's worth the risk, Helix?"

He sounded calm, and Ben could feel he was in his I-have-no-emotions battle mindset by the way he had gone nearly silent in the Force.

"I'm not sure I can answer that question without bias, Commander. If you're asking me whether I trust a specialist I've never met and whose reputation I don't know? The answer is ' _kriff, no_ '. If you're asking me whether the risk inherent in this procedure is low enough to be acceptable? It's intimidating to think about the possible complications and consequences, but it's because of the source of those risks that I'd have to answer that question with a no as well, based on the answer to the first. It all comes down to who's doing the surgery."

Ben cleared his throat. "Would it make you feel better if I steadied their hands?" He offered.

"You can do that, sir?" Crys asked him. 

"It would take quite some concentration, but once I know the movements required and can visualize them…" Ben shrugged. "It's just a very precise Force push."

Helix gave him a skeptical look. "And you can hold that Force push for a half hour?"

He'd never tried, but for his _Vod'e_ he would make it happen. "If I have to. But it will be tiring and the focus required will mean I won't be able to pay attention to anything else," he warned them. 

Longshot shook his head. "Then, thank you but no, General," he said. "It would be more efficient to make sure there are no distractions to the medics."

Calming himself down by taking a few shots with his borrowed blaster that clustered neatly near the center of his chosen target, Helix added, "If you're asking, Commander, whether I think we should follow through and have the chips removed now, rather than looking for an alternative? I don't have an answer for that question, either, sir. It's possible that waiting would mean we can find a better way to get rid of the things. Or it could mean that we find out the hard way what these chips are capable of. We don't know what they do, who knows how to trigger them, or even whether they've already been triggered, so it's impossible to say whether or not the risk is worth the reward."

Cody's head bowed for a moment before he straightened, and Ben felt him make his decision. "If we wait, we run the risk that these things could somehow kill us or worse, and if we don't the risks to us don't change. I won't force any of you into this, _Vod'e_ , but I think we should do it."

Waxer and Boil exchanged a look, and Ben knew without a doubt that each half of the pair was silently asking the other whether they were willing to go through with this. As though that would help them determine their own answer. He'd suspected for months now that the two of them were _riduur'e_ , and this little display was only serving to convince him that he was right. 

"We're with you, sir," Boil said after a few seconds, and the remaining _Vod'e_ nodded as well.

Cody nodded back. "Then we're getting the karking things removed," he announced. "Helix? You've got the lead on this."

"Copy that, Commander," their medic answered. "We have time to prepare ourselves. The first procedure won't be possible before 0600 hours, the rotation after next. I'd recommend Crys and Longshot go under first and second, if they're still willing to in light of this new information."

Crys and Longshot both hesitated, their unease obvious even to someone without access to the Force, but to their credit, they both nodded.

The _Vod'e_ had courage to spare and never failed to impress him. "I'll keep watch," Ben reassured them, "never fear."

Wooley scoffed. "That was never in doubt, General," he replied.

"What preparations do we need to make, Helix?" Waxer wrenched them back on track.

"You," Helix put a subtle hint of emphasis on the pronoun, "need to spend time with Boil. And we all need to paint our new armour. Beyond that, there isn't much we _can_ do. The medics' only directly related stipulation is no solid food for a minimum of twelve hours prior to the surgery."

Waxer and Boil blushed, the reaction invisible behind their buckets. Ben felt it in the Force and smiled, despite the tense nature of the reason for Helix's recommendation. The pair's reaction was revealing, but Ben wasn't going to draw attention to it. Instead he asked, "So where is that paint?"

Cody straightened, surprised. "You going to join us, General?"

"It seems like a waste to paint what I was given, if I'm only going to exchange the set for something else, but I'm not against spending time with you, if you'd like to have me there."

His men took off their buckets one by one, broad smiles on their faces. "Get ready for a painting lesson, then, sir," Boil suggested. "I'm sure Ardanna will remove any paint you put on the pieces you decide you're giving back to her, so whoever gets them after you can paint them any way they want. You're not escaping us now."

As though he'd want to. Ben laughed. "You haven't answered my question," he pointed out, keeping his tone mild.

The group of them formed up around him, Cody at his side as always, and eagerly started to herd him out of the training yard, buzzing excitedly at him in a way that seemed to harmonise and swell like music. Waxer's blaster pistol subtly got handed back as Helix passed him, and then they were moving quickly through the corridors towards their quarters.

Before they'd taken two steps, Cody was on his comm, trying to raise Jango.

It didn't take their _ori'vod_ long to answer, and when he did, he sounded worried. "Cody? Is something wrong?"

"No, Jango, but we'll be needing that armour paint you promised us, now. Where can we find it?"

The question got him an amused huff in return, and, sounding far less tense, Jango replied, "It's kept in a storeroom near the armoury. Ardanna's apprentice can show you how to get to it and the other supplies you'll need, but I'd suggest keeping any interruptions of her work to a minimum."

"Copy that," Cody said briskly, and signed off with a casual salute.

Once they'd reached their quarters and ditched all of their weaponry but the blaster pistols secured to their belts, and Cody had grabbed one of the elbow guards from his full-scale armour set, the clones simply kept moving, carrying him along on a wave of enthusiasm and something akin to happiness. The subtle lingering buzz of discontent and negative emotion that Ben was so used to feeling from his men aboard the _Negotiator_ and shoving back out of his awareness was simply _gone_ for the moment, as though it had never been, and it was all the more conspicuous in its absence.

It was a strange feeling. And surprising, considering their recent topic of discussion.

Not that Ben intended to remind his troopers of that.

None of them spoke as they made their way quickly through the palace, aided by the clones' highly trained memories for building layouts and routes, until they came up on the armoury doors.

"Hey, Crys," Longshot spoke up from behind him, pulling Ben back out of his thoughts. "Did we meet that assistant Jango mentioned, last time we were here?"

"Well, _I_ didn't," Crys replied.

Cody didn't bother to answer, signing _hold here_ then simply walking into the armoury to stop near the door, pulling his bucket off his head and waiting to be noticed. The rest of the clones followed suit, arranging themselves around their Commander and not so subtly guiding Ben into the spot they'd left empty beside Cody. A trifle belatedly, Ben took off his own bucket.

It didn't take long for a young woman perhaps a couple of years older than Jango to approach him. "Welcome," she said, wiping her hands off on her apron and leaving behind smears of grease on the layer of protective gear. "I am Assistant Mira. Master Armourer Ardanna is currently out delivering a commission. Would you like to leave her a message or come back later?"

Cody shook his head. "Neither. I am Cody Mereel," he said, and Ben could feel him take pleasure in being able to use the surname. "My _ori'vod_ Jango told me I should ask you where we can find the necessary supplies to paint our armour."

Mira brightened and gave him a broad smile. "Well met, Cody," she said, "and that is indeed well within my abilities to provide. Come with me, and bring your _vod'e_. Ardanna said you might be by sometime in the next few rotations."

Waxer and Wooley shuffled their feet a little, then quieted. "Are we allowed to mix ourselves a new colour if we need one?" Waxer asked as Mira gathered them all up with a glance and a nod.

"Are you after something specific?" She asked him.

"Well, we all want the same colours and they are kind of specific, yes," he stood his conversational ground.

"Then let me take stock of how much of what we have, before you do anything that requires large quantities of paint," she told him firmly. "And, we do have other colours of the stockings, if you want to change those out. Don't you dare paint them."

Ben snickered at the indignation that rose off the _Vod'e_ at being handled as though they didn't know how to treat armour. "We'd never!" Boil exclaimed, shocked and appalled at the idea of painting a set of blacks.

"Why in the name of the Force would anyone want to?" Longshot asked. "That would ruin them."

Mollified, Mira backed down a little. "I suppose I should have expected Jango's _vod'ike_ to know that sort of thing," she commented as she opened a storeroom Ben was sure was the one Jango had referred to.

Cody's eyes went wide.

It was a larger space than Ben had expected, the walls lined with neatly arranged bins of clean rags, shelves of paint tins, racks of paintbrushes and paintsprayers, containers of solvents, sealants, scouring brushes, and all manner of other tools he couldn't identify.

There were even a pair of enclosures at the end of the long room that were clearly intended to contain whatever volatile fumes came off the paint as it dried and neutralise them.

"Alright, I suspect you probably already know how this works, but I'm going to give you the run down anyway, because otherwise Ardanna will take it out of my hide," Mira said to them as the clones started to look around at the contents of the room. "Any and all brushes and tools that you use, will be cleaned before they're put back where you found them. Paint gets applied only while the armour plate you're painting is inside one of the two cubbies at the far end of the room. If anything breaks, don't try to fix it. Come get me instead. The armour Ardanna gave you has already been cleaned and sanded down once, but if you've been using it for anything you'll want to clean the surface with solvent before applying any paint. After you're satisfied with how it looks, put a layer of sealant on top of all surfaces of all armour plates, whether you've painted that part of the armour or not. It'll help protect it from scratches and rust. Any questions?"

"Only the same one about mixing the colour we want," Boil repeated. "Do you have enough gold?"

Mira checked the shelves. "Gold is popular, so we have a good amount of it. If you want to adjust the shade, since all of you want the same colour, what we can do is find a half-empty tin and use it to mix the colour you need."

"This is what we want it to match, if possible," Cody told her, holding out the elbow guard he'd carried with him. "We'd like the choice of black, blue and green for accents."

The armourer's assistant hummed thoughtfully, then started grabbing various tins of paint off the shelves and carrying them to the leftmost of the two cubbies, as she'd called them. Ben was sure they had a more technical name, but couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment. Watching the way the _Vod'e_ interacted with Mira was more interesting.

Setting the tins of paint neatly in a row along the front of the cubby, Mira pried open three and began to mix the paints carefully, occasionally testing the colour in the tin against the 212th gold on Cody's elbow guard. Once she was satisfied, she set the tin back down and returned Cody's elbow guard to him. "One last word of advice," she said. "This paint goes a pretty long way, so try not to overdo it with how much you apply. If you do, it'll take ages to dry and do its best to drip everywhere."

"Thank you, Mira," Ben answered, speaking up and drawing her attention to him.

She inclined her head to him. "You must be the _jetii_ the palace is gossiping about so enthusiastically," Mira guessed. "We owe you a great debt, for bringing our _Mand'alor_ and his _ad_ back to us safely."

Ben tried to demur. "I behaved as a true Jedi should," he said simply. "No more, no less."

Mira scoffed, her disbelief clear, but didn't pursue the point. "I need to get back to work, now," she told them, "but I'll be in the armoury, if you run into any problems."

The moment she'd stepped back out of the storeroom, the clones were in motion, stripping off the outer plates of their armour and starting to clean them as Mira had suggested. Ben simply watched until Cody caught his eyes. "Come here instead of just watching us, General," he said, voice holding hope and tentative approval, "and let us show you how to do this properly."

Ben could feel the sense of _satisfaction_ that all his men were projecting at the thought that their Commander would take the lead on what was shaping up to be a quiet few hours spent preparing themselves for their quest to get home to their time. Whether it ended up taking a few rotations or a month or even years wouldn't matter. They'd be going right back to the moment they'd vanished from. They had time. And in the meantime, being properly outfitted would be vital to their success.

Here on Mandalore, that meant Ben would have to wear armour, so it only made sense to learn how to take care of it. And who better to teach him that than the men he led, who depended on their armour for their lives just as much as they relied on him.

"Alright, Cody," he agreed, watching the hope fade into surprise and pleasure, a tingle against his Force senses that had him relaxing and smiling, "show me what I need to do."

The rest of the _Vod'e_ spent the next half hour cleaning and painting their armour with a speed borne of practice and routine, while Cody showed him what he needed to know. The two of them were ready to paint their armours just about at the same time that the last of the troopers was finished applying sealant to theirs.

"Have you decided what colour to paint your armour, General?" Longshot asked him.

"Green," Ben told him. "With gold accents. Assuming you've left me any."

Crys shook his head. "The Commander would have us running drills for a week straight if we used up the gold paint without leaving any for you two."

"Kriffing right, I would," Cody put in, picking up his armour plates and carrying them over to one of the cubbies. He set them down, then turned toward Ben and waited expectantly, the silent cue obvious.

Picking up his own armour plates and carrying them over, Ben moved to put them into the other cubby in a neat pile.

"Not like that," Cody stopped him, a hand on his forearm.

The touch sent something through Ben that felt like a concussive blast. He swallowed hard. "So how, then, should I do it, Commander? Do enlighten me."

Cody gave him a sardonic look, then simply took the armour plates from him and started arranging them in a very precise and compact layout in the cubby. The breastplates, backplate, and codpiece in the center, arm guards, vambraces, greaves, and pauldrons arranged neatly around them so that everything was within easy reach and turned so that the surfaces he was going to be painting were facing toward him. "Like this," he said once he was done, then stepped back and did the same with his own armour.

Ben watched Cody pick up a paint sprayer and start deftly coating the plates of his armour a startling black almost dark enough to feel like the space between stars, then shook off his slight reverie and reached for a sprayer of his own.

It took him a couple of tries to work out how to load it and switch it on, and once he did, he felt clumsy as a ronto. How _did_ one make the paint come out of one of these things so evenly? 

None of the men interfered to help him, though, and the feelings coming off them reminded Ben of the way he felt when he watched a padawan successfully attempt to do something new for the first time. They all knew it wouldn't be perfect, and it didn't bother them one bit. They were simply pleased for and proud of him. 

Oddly, that realisation helped his hand steady and the paint sprayer mysteriously started behaving better.

By the time he'd finished with the sprayer, carefully coating all but his pauldrons with the green, Cody was putting the finishing touches on his signature armour markings, the 212th gold gleaming against the matte black of the first layer.

Crys appeared at his elbow with a pre-loaded paint sprayer containing the gold he wanted to use for his pauldrons, and held it out to him silently in offering.

"Thank you, Crys," Ben said quietly, the thought that the men were all being oddly silent and reverent flitting through his mind.

"No problem, General."

Putting the sprayer to use on his pauldrons as planned, Ben let himself focus on what he was doing, letting the Force guide his movements to a degree even as he knew that the ultimate decision was still his. Once he'd painted the shoulder pieces, he had to wait until they were a bit drier so that he could put the symbol of the Jedi Order on them, where it had been on the armour he'd worn on Saleucami and so many other campaigns. It took him almost another hour to finish painting and sealing all the armour pieces to his satisfaction.

When he looked up, stretching to get the stiffness out of his muscles, he realised that all of his men had gathered in a little knot near the storeroom door and were talking quietly with Jango. None of the _Vod'e_ looked the least bit bored, and most of them were wearing their newly painted armour sets already, all but preening and showing off for their _ori'vod_. The lot of them, save Cody, had opted to paint their armour entirely in 212th gold then added their usual bucket markings in black as a subtle means of differentiating themselves. It made Cody's paint scheme stand out all the more.

Jango felt very amused and proud in the Force, and he noticed it immediately when Ben stretched. "Finished, _vod'ika_?" He asked.

Ben nodded. "It'll do."

"Good. Clean up, and once you've put things away, we'll find something to eat," Jango suggested. "The sealant on your armour should be dry about the time you're done rinsing sprayers and brushes."

Ben knew the importance of taking care of one's tools, so he didn't question that at all. None of the _Vod'e_ moved to help with the task, but that didn't bother him at all.

Once he was done, though, they insisted he put the newly painted armour plates on, on the spot. "Come on, General," Cody demanded, his bucket in its customary position under his forearm, "suit up."

Well aware that putting his armour on was another skill he'd have to practice, Ben didn't protest. "I feel like I'm on display," he quipped, making Jango laugh outright, and most of the _Vod'e_ smirk.

"Prettiest General I've ever seen," Boil teased him, feeling daring and getting a half-serious growl out of Cody in what Ben felt was a bit of an overreaction.

"Have a little respect, _Vod_ ," the Commander demanded.

"Oh, Cody, I've heard far worse in my life than a compliment that tame," he put in, bending to slide his legs into his greaves, and then the boots that went with them. He added the thigh plates next, slotting them into place using the magnetic tabs on the stocking, and then latching them into place along with the knee guards and the codpiece -- and that was a piece that needed to go, so that he could move more freely, but he also knew better than to leave that particularly sensitive area of his anatomy so vulnerable.

As he secured the breastplates, backplate, and gorget, he heard a mutter of "Sorry, Commander," but didn't look up. Adding the vambraces and pauldrons, he paused to twist and stretch to settle the plates in place comfortably before he picked up his bucket.

Waxer grinned at him. "Green's a good colour for you, General."

That time Cody didn't growl, but his expression did tighten a little, and in the Force he felt the way he did when he knew the men were ribbing him.

"Come on, _vod'ike_ ," Jango demanded, "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

A glance at his chrono was all Ben needed to work out why. The morning was long over, and they'd technically missed midmeal while he'd worked to finish painting his armour.

The rest of that rotation and the next passed uneventfully. He and his men trained, practiced with their new armours, and spent time exploring the palace grounds. They did need to know more of it than just the _Mand'alor_ 's wing, the training yard, and the armoury.

And then, almost suddenly, the light outside was fading away, and the first surgery felt like it loomed over their heads. All seven of the _Vod'e_ were apprehensive about it, but Longshot, who'd agreed to effectively be point man for this, felt to Ben like he was about to jump out of his skin. 

The other six of them didn't hesitate to pull Longshot into their suite at the first opportunity, strip him down to the shorts he wore under his new Mandalorian-issue armourweave, and settle in with him for the night.

Unable to ignore Longshot's nerves, Ben decided to join them, after a hesitant moment spent awkwardly hovering on the threshold, watching them get comfortable. "Room for one more?"

"Always," Cody immediately responded, no hesitation whatsoever to be heard in his voice.

Ben stripped off his own armour -- which still felt strange to wear -- and stacked it the way Cody had taught him, then carefully joined them. He debated for a couple of seconds about making this next offer, but the well-being of his men had always been important to him, and he could directly help with this, if permission was granted. "If you want me to, I can put you to sleep, Longshot. Nothing deeper than normal, and you won't be caught there, but you need the rest."

Longshot looked up at him, hesitating briefly as he thought it over, then nodded. "Alright, General. I trust you."

Carefully, gently, well aware of how precious a gift that sort of trust was, when offered by one of the _Vod'e_ , Ben reached out with his hands and the Force, brushing his fingers over Longshot's forehead and over his scalp in a motion he knew would soothe. "Sleep, _Vod_ ," he said, putting a suggestion in his voice that a strong-willed man could easily overcome.

Longshot, being just as willing as he'd claimed, simply seemed to melt back into Crys' and Helix's arms, promptly dead asleep and snoring quietly.

"Neat trick, sir," Helix breathed, careful not to wake Longshot.

Ben smiled. "It has its uses, but it's most effective for situations like this, where there is already support at hand."

Cody raised an eyebrow at him, drawing Ben's attention back to the fact that he was missing his facial scar -- which was so strange to see but also good, because it meant one less injury that Cody had taken as a child, as only the scars from their youth remained after the de-aging -- then simply wrapped a strong arm around Ben's waist and pulled him down into the pile of _Vod'e_. "You should shut your own eyes, General," he said firmly. "I know you're going to join us on watch tomorrow, whether we want that or not, so, right now, you're going to get some sleep."

Huffing at him and shifting to get a little bit more comfortable, Ben pointed out, "Meditation is just as effective, you know."

"You're here now, and settled," Crys said, "if you leave, you'll wake Longshot and undo all your hard work."

All too aware of just how accurate that assessment was and how closely Cody had tucked himself against his back, Ben said nothing.

"Yeah, sleep," agreed Wooley, drifting off as he spoke.

The moment all of the _Vod'e_ were in their accustomed positions, they fell asleep one by one, following the example Longshot and Wooley had set. Cody held out the longest, and took advantage of the relative privacy to say, "Rest well, General. We've got a long rotation ahead of us." 

And then, Ben was staring up at the ceiling, surrounded by warmth and contentment, for all that it contained an edge of anxiety.

It took him a few minutes, but eventually he managed to force himself to calm, and he didn't register the transition from wakefulness to dreams.

All too early the following morning, long before what approximated dawn in the biodome, Ben woke to the _Vod'e_ sitting up and stretching. Their nerves were still there but muted enough that Ben didn't feel the need to worry about their state of mind.

"Wh't time's it?" Crys asked, voice still rough with sleep, as he scrubbed at his face with his hands.

"About 0430," Cody replied, only barely more alert.

"Karking miserable hour to be conscious," Waxer grumbled.

Boil groaned pitifully, draping himself over Waxer's back and closing his eyes. "Get me some caf, _riduur_ ," he pleaded.

The scene made Ben stifle an amused smirk, fondness running through him at the unguarded affection and playfulness between the pair of troopers. If he hadn't already suspected that the two of them were _riduur'e_ , that might've been a surprise. As it was, it was simply confirmation. He stood, stretching his hands toward the ceiling and twisting until the tension in his back and neck loosened, then padded off towards their 'fresher.

By the time he'd washed his face and decided he was more or less ready to face the world long enough to make it produce some stimulants and a snack, the _Vod'e_ had gotten their armour back on and were blearily trading quips about whose turn it was to clean the caf maker.

At about the same moment, a chime announced a visitor had shown up at the door, which opened a moment later to reveal Jango. " _Vod'ike_ ," he asked, "have you seen-- oh, Ben's here with you. I should have guessed."

"You need something, Jango?" Ben inquired, stepping over to stand in front of him.

"Nah, I'm just making the rounds to gather everyone for a quick meal. We'll bring some food with us as well, but _buir_ wants everyone to eat together before the real excitement starts, so hurry up and put your armour on," Jango answered, speaking briskly.

Ben hurried into his armour as best he could, fumbling with the backplate and the codpiece a little, but it didn't take him long to make himself what the _mando'ad'e_ considered presentable.

"But Crys and I are not allowed to eat anything," Longshot protested as Ben worked, sounding like he wanted to just jump in the speeder and head to the clinic right then, in his state of nervous excitement.

His tone going reassuring and a bit softer, Jango caught Longshot's eyes and held them as he spoke. "We know, and it won't take long," he promised Longshot, then turned and headed back out of the suite, trusting that they would follow him.

The rest of the morning seemed to pass him by in a blur, and Ben felt almost relieved when their pair of speeders pulled up to the clinic building what simultaneously seemed like a heartbeat and an eternity later.

The surgery itself would be almost entirely handled by the droid. Only the process of detaching the filaments would be done by hand, and the rest of the time the medics would simply be watching for bad reactions to the sedative or minor errors in the droid's function.

It turned out to be almost unremarkable in how smoothly it went, too. Ben spent the entire three and a half hours on edge, watching the medics' every movement closely and keeping the rest of his senses attuned to the environment around him, only for nothing to be out of place whatsoever. The few quiet murmurs of conversation that passed between Jaster, Jango, and his men barely made any impression on him at all, and the entire surgery felt like one extended moment in time. Ben found himself coming out of a near meditative state when it was over.

Helix, who'd talked the medics into allowing him into the sterile area and letting him borrow scrubs to wear, all but forced his way into the surgical suite the instant the procedure was finished and before the medics gave the all clear to wheel Longshot back out of the room, just because he wanted to be absolutely sure there were no complications. Ben couldn't help his smile at the way that sight made the rest of his _Vod'e_ relax.

Reassured that Longshot was recovering well and three of their own were keeping watch over him, determined to stand guard until he woke and confirmed to them that he was fine, the remainder of his men took up their positions around the surgical suite again, snacking on the food that Jaster and Jango had insisted they bring and talking quietly with their _buir_ and _ori'vod_.

Ben just leaned against a nearby wall and watched them, letting his mind wander as he contemplated the situation. Now that the first surgery had gone off without a hitch, the rest of the _Vod'e_ all felt immensely better about the idea that they would be in Longshot's position fairly shortly. As open as he had been to the Force all morning, he'd felt it happen. The incremental lessening of their tension and worry had been an exquisite relief.

And he had to agree with the sentiment, himself. It was as though a boulder he'd been carrying around had suddenly vanished, leaving him to feel like he was about to float away into the sky. Just knowing that Longshot had made it through, none the worse for wear save for the usual post-surgery grogginess and pain, was worth a lot to him.

He valued each and every member of the 212th, and these seven _Vod'e_ were all he had left of them for the time being, making them all the more important to him. Not only were they loyal and deserving of every scrap of affection and aid he could give them while they were under his command, but he was rapidly becoming to rely on them to be his home, now that the Temple couldn't be that for him any longer.

Now, as the medics prepared to repeat the procedure on Crys, he and his men were keeping an eye on the entrances and exits, more out of habit than any kind of watchful intent. It wasn't likely that anyone other than the medics involved in the procedure would get anywhere near. Jaster and Jango had seen to that. But two of their own were down and vulnerable, and they were nowhere near their ship or hyperspace, and that knowledge meant the _Vod'e_ were ever so slightly on edge.

They wouldn't calm down fully until both Longshot and Crys were back on their feet and back to normal, either. Maybe not until all of them had had their chips removed and recovered from the process, Ben reflected.

And then, seemingly suddenly, it was Crys' turn and Ben realised he'd lost track of time, lost deep in his thoughts.

Refocusing his attention, settling in to keep his eye on things as he had done during the first surgery, Ben watched the second also go smoothly.

Afterwards, as the rest of the _Vod'e_ stood guard over Longshot and Crys in the recovery room set aside for them, joined by Jaster and Jango, who were trying their level best to get the troopers to relax, Ben watched as Helix carefully supervised the destruction of the two removed chips.

By the time he and Helix rejoined them, Jaster looked frustrated and Jango resigned.

"Ah, Ben, Helix," Jaster greeted them with relief in his voice, "maybe you can convince your stubborn _vod'e_ to stand down and rest."

Helix snorted. "I doubt it, _buir_ ," he answered bluntly. "We're in an unfamiliar building on a planet we've never spent any length of time on before, being treated by medics who have no more familiarity with our specific needs than what I was able to tell them."

"We know you're trustworthy, but there's always a risk that things might go badly wrong." Wooley backed him up.

Longshot put in, his eyes still closed, "And all of that is business as normal, but we won't be able to react quickly if they do, even if the General gets one of his bad feelings and can warn us of an oncoming disaster."

"Did the medics say when they were going to allow us to leave?" Ben changed the subject slightly. "We'll all feel better back in the Palace, I think."

"Pretty sure I could make the trip back now," Longshot offered.

"Not until I clear you and the clinic's medics confirm it, you can't," Helix shot that idea down immediately. "It will be another few hours before Crys wakes up, anyway."

"Give it up, _Vod_ ," Cody told Longshot. "We're all stuck here a while longer. You might as well get comfortable."

Shaking his head at them all, Jango leaned back in his chair with a sigh that betrayed how tired he was, himself. "It'd be nice to get home and get a real meal to eat," he commented, to his _buir_ , "but I think we might have to find something portable enough to eat here."

"You may be right, _ad_ ," Jaster conceded the point. "Why don't you take Waxer and Boil with you and find us something appropriate in the clinic's canteen?"

Boil perked up at the mention of food, even if he knew it was likely to be off a similar kind of menu to the one available aboard the _Negotiator_. Waxer gave him a sidelong look, as if to ask him how he could possibly muster up any enthusiasm for that bland of a meal, but said nothing.

Helix jumped in. "I think that's a good idea, _buir_ ," he agreed. "Not one of us has eaten a proper meal today, and that's something we should change."

"Get going," Cody prompted the pair of his men, making Jango chuckle and stand.

"If any of you have specific requests for things I'm likely to be able to find," Jango offered, "now is the time to make them."

"Some tea to drink would be fantastic, if they have any," Ben spoke up, knowing that it was unlikely at best but missing his usual afternoon pick-me-up something fierce. He hadn't had a proper cup of tea since they'd gotten flung into the past, and the lack was starting to get to him a little. Meeting Jango's eyes with a wry smile, he added, "I'm not going to get my hopes up, though."

Jaster made an amused sound. "Tea is not a commonly available drink on Mandalore," he confirmed, "but we can order some, if you know what you'd like and where to get it. There is a merchant in the city that deals in that sort of specialty import, but I've never looked through his wares. He likely has only a limited assortment to pick from."

A short expectant silence fell, after that, as Jango waited to make sure no one else wanted to ask for anything, then he nodded and headed off down the corridor, Waxer and Boil in tow.

After a minute had passed in silence, Jaster watching them all -- and considering their collective reluctance to trust in the medics no doubt -- and Helix checking in with each of his _Vod'e_ in turn. He saved Ben for last, waiting until Cody had started quizzing him about the armour-related things they'd taught him before took full advantage of the diversion to get his way.

Ben scowled at him, not fooled but willing to forego his usual protests until later because it wasn't a full medical check. Just a quick assessment of his state of mind and body.

It hadn't escaped his notice that he and the _Vod'e_ tired far more quickly, now that they were younger and stuck in the past. Whether that was because of their trip through time or not was unclear, but he could tell it was worrying Helix.

Once he was satisfied that all of them were fine, Helix settled himself on the edge of the mattress next to Crys, not so subtly keeping a close eye on their _Vod_ , and bluntly broached the next big topic that needed addressing. "So now that we have an idea what to expect with the removal of these chips and how it will go, we need to make a decision on who will be next."

Cody considered that. "Me and Waxer," he suggested. "We have a defense in the form of Crys, Longshot, Jango, _buir_ and the General, and we've seen that the surgery is less dangerous than we feared it could be."

"That leaves us down two officers until you both recover," Helix pointed out.

"But that won't be for long," Cody countered, "and you'll have the General to make whatever calls need making."

Jaster was listening to the discussion with a mix of surprise and resignation. "Are you really so convinced that there will be a problem that needs to be solved with your blasters?"

Ben sighed and answered for his men. He could tell by the tenor of the discussion that they weren't actually bracing for trouble. Not yet, at least. "No. We're simply used to disaster ambushing us anytime we're remotely vulnerable. That breeds a certain level of over-preparedness, even in an environs we know should be safe."

Jango, Waxer, and Boil returned then, each of them carrying several boxed up meals, and the discussion was put aside until such time as they'd finished satisfying their appetites. 

Once they'd cleared their plates and set them aside, Helix turned to Waxer. "Willing to go next, _Vod_?"

He didn't bother putting any more detail than that into his query. He didn't need to. Waxer caught Boil's eyes briefly, then nodded. "Alright. I'll take the morning slot. Who's getting theirs out that afternoon?"

"The Commander," Longshot said, leaning back against his pillows. "It'll make for a tense rotation, but we'll get it done."

"I'd have to do it eventually," Cody pointed out. "Taking the afternoon slot tomorrow means we'll only be down our officers for one rotation."

"Or you could wait a little longer and we wouldn't be down our officers at all, because it'd be staggered, sir," Boil parried.

"Maybe," Cody agreed, "but I want mine _gone_."

And that, Ben noted, amused, was that. None of the _Vod'e_ protested the decision further.

Jaster and Jango exchanged another look and a resigned nod. "At least once he's back on his feet, Cody will keep them calm," Jango said to his _buir_. "They'll only be hyperalert for one rotation."

That was perhaps a bit overly optimistic, but Ben wasn't about to say anything about it. Especially since he knew he was liable to be just as much on edge as his men while Cody was out of commission. 

Crys picked that moment to distract them all by regaining consciousness with a quiet groan. "'S it ov'r?" he mumbled, voice hoarse and expression a bit pained.

Helix put a hand on his shoulder to keep Crys from trying to move. "It's over, _Vod_ ," he confirmed. "Rest. _Morut'yc_. We have the watch."

The remainder of the afternoon melted into evening, and eventually the medics came by to clear Crys and Longshot so that the lot of them could return to the Palace for the night.

The moment they were declared fit to leave the clinic, Crys and Longshot were carefully putting their armour back on and the surge of relief that went through all of the _Vod'e_ was nearly tangible.

All of them were well aware that the cycle would repeat in a few short hours, and prepared to spend the last hours of the rotation resting, but for now, they were all hale and whole and they'd gotten through the battle. It didn't matter that for most of them it had been emotional rather than physical.

Ben planned to spend his free time meditating, starting from the moment he was back in his suite, and to hell with Cody's insistence that he needed to sleep. He also needed to clear his mind properly once in a while, and he'd been putting that off for far too long. It had been nearly a week since the last time he'd allowed himself that release and his worries were beginning to wear him down.

The ten of them tiredly made their way out of the clinic to their speeders, where Ben, Jango and Jaster waited out the 212th's need to check said speeders for sabotage, then settled in for the trip back to the palace.

He didn't notice it when he fell asleep, so he startled when Jango called his name insistently. "What? Where--? Oh."

Cody roused, where he'd fallen asleep himself, leaning against Ben's shoulder. "That hasn't happened to me in a long time," he muttered.

Jango managed to bite back his chuckle, but it was audible in his voice when he spoke. "You need to sleep in a bed, _vod'ike_ ," he said firmly.

Ben didn't protest -- if they didn't know you were going to resist, they wouldn't be prepared for it when you did -- and let Jango lead him into the palace with three of his _Vod'e_ clustered around him.

When he tried to veer off in the direction of his own rooms, though, all three of the troopers walking with him reached out for him without thinking, the gesture automatic and almost reflexive, a sense of anxiety rising in them and bringing the buzzing feeling in the Force he so strongly associated with them back into Ben's awareness.

Kriff.

They wanted to have him close and while it would be wiser to refuse them that, he knew well that he would give in. A Jedi gave the assistance he was capable of, when and where it was requested. Where it was needful.

And the _Vod'e_ all knew it, too. He'd spent time keeping nearly all of the Brothers that had landed in the past with him company in medical at one point or another, aboard the _Negotiator_ , and they'd all returned the favour several times over, at points when they'd somehow known he'd needed company but been unable to reach out and ask for it.

He was such a soft-hearted fool. Letting himself get this attached was karking dangerous, as he'd told Jaster not all that long ago, and yet here he was, merrily tossing his own advice right out the nearest airlock in defiance of all the Council's wisdom and his own better judgment. Ben sighed, then turned back away from his own suite's door.

At this rate, perhaps he'd be better off adopting the old Code after all, he reflected a bit sourly as the _Vod'e_ herded him into their suite.

The other four of their number were already there and arranging themselves comfortably in their nest. Cody, Waxer and Boil did their level best to wordlessly convince him to join them as they stripped off their own armour, pleading with him with sad eyes and slumped posture.

Conceding to staying close, Ben removed the outer plates of his own armour and settled himself nearby but stayed upright, sitting cross legged at the edge of their comfortable tangle of limbs. "I must clear my mind properly," he told them, keeping his voice low and even. "I'll be right here. Rest."

Cody was visibly unhappy with that decision, but he knew how important it was to Ben to take the time to think on recent events and let all his swirling thoughts settle when he had the leisure to do so. He stuck protectively close to Ben, even as he closed his eyes and let himself relax enough to let sleep take him.

Ben couldn't help the way his hand automatically traced out the patch of skin where Cody's scar should have been. The devotion to and faith in him that his men displayed were among the purest things he'd ever sensed, and Ben treasured them. Both were rarer than cortosis, and worth more to him even than armour that good. Sometimes he wondered what he could possibly offer them, that was remotely as valuable.

He was nothing special, a Jedi who'd abandoned the Code the Council endorsed, and, by the strictest definition, a heretic. If the Council had the faintest idea that he'd strayed this far from their teachings, they'd remove him from his seat on the Council, take away his command of the Third Systems Army, and likely exile him to some branch of the Service Corps.

Ben bit down on his sigh and shoved those thoughts away. He'd wanted to clear his mind, not muddy things further.

Sternly telling himself to focus, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, recreating the tranquil space as faithfully as he could manage in the stillness of his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Jaster sighed and rubbed his face. The moment his new _ad’e_ were safely in their suite for the night, he headed towards his own, bidding Jango to follow.

He could tell from the weary slump of Jango’s shoulders that he was just as tired. They hadn't done much today but stand around in the clinic and watch the _vod’e_ run security on the operating room. Jaster hadn't even been the one on watch and yet he was exhausted. 

It had been an effort to get any of the _vod’e_ to take any kind of break, even for food. Some part of him had wanted to order them to stand down, but he'd known it wouldn’t work. And, for that matter, an order like that would have cost him a great deal of the trust that the little soldiers had in him, along with their goodwill. No, the wisest course was to just help them all through it.

Jango sprawled across a couch in Jaster’s sitting room, dropping his head back on the arm of the chaise like it weighed a ton.

“They're gonna do this every rotation until the last surgery is done, aren’t they,” Jango groaned.

“Yup.” Jaster collapsed into an armchair and rubbed his eyes again. 

They sat in silence for a minute, both reflecting on the way the surgeries had gone.

“Did you see what Ben was doing?” Jango asked quietly.

Yeah. Jaster had. 

While the rest of the _vod’e_ had taken up security positions around the room, barring Helix who had been in the operating theater himself, Ben had stood watch from the viewing gallery. Except that Jaster hadn't been able to tell if Ben was really seeing anything at all. He hadn't moved. Barely even blinked. The sense of focus around him had been a tangible thing, but he hadn’t reacted at all to his _aliit_ moving around him. His body language had shown readiness to move at a moment's notice.

Jaster had asked Cody about it in between surgeries, when he’d convinced them all to eat something. The _verd’ike_ had at least allowed themselves to refuel. Ben had just leaned against the wall and stared at nothing like he was looking off into the universe. 

Cody’s response hadn’t been reassuring. 

_”That’s just what he does when he’s watching everything in a fifty meter range. It’s fine.”_

Jaster hadn't nearly known what to do with that. He still didn't.

As strange and worrisome as it was, he was extremely impressed. 

“Our new _aliit_ is full of surprises,” Jaster said. He contemplated having some kind of food sent up, but didn’t know if it was worth the energy expenditure to get it. 

Jango snorted. 

“How much more of this? Two rotations? Three?” 

Jaster ran the numbers in his head. “Three, if there are no delays. Only one surgery on the last rotation.”

It couldn’t be over soon enough. 

Especially since Jaster had political matters to deal with. There had been members of Death Watch in the ambush on Korda VI. _Death Watch_. He'd thought that he’d taken care of them years ago. There hadn’t been a single peep about the faction rebuilding itself from the crushing blow that he'd delivered, the last time they'd dared take open action.

Jaster’s personal rival, Tor Vizsla, headed up that faction. Or he'd used to, anyways. He'd been reported killed in a battle with Jaster’s supercommandos years ago. There was no telling who was in charge of the Death Watch now. Maybe Tor’s _ad_. The loyalty to _aliit_ was strong. 

_We never did find a body for Vizsla_ , Jaster mused.

He shook his head. The paranoia of the _verd’ike_ was rubbing off on him. 

The Death Watch didn't even represent more than a fraction of the problems he faced. There were the New Mandalorians as well, though they posed an entirely different set of issues.

The warrior traditions of the Mandalorians had fallen into decline after war had left the planet's surface a desert wasteland centuries ago. The New Mandalorians had taken control of the system’s government and maintained their hold until now. They were pacifists to the extreme, disavowing fighting in general and the use of lethal force for any reason in particular. Clans individually kept Mandalore’s warrior culture alive, but a council made up primarily of New Mandalorians was in control of most system-wide policy.

The holder of the title of _Mand’alor_ was one that was elected by the clan heads, and then passed down, until their line ended or someone new was elected -- or someone sucessfully challenged the current _Mand'alor_. Jaster had been the first named in many years. Even the reigning New Mandalorians were hesitant to dispute his authority. Jaster, in turn, had very little interest in dealing with the minutiae of system governance. 

So he and his True Mandalorians, warriors and clans that followed the old ways, stood together in an uneasy truce with the New Mandalorian ruling council. Many clan leaders followed Jaster, but nearly as many didn’t. The ruling council had grown to include clan chieftains once again, in recent years. Every decision was argued incessantly between them.

And right now they were all arguing over what to do about the Death Watch returning. 

He’d told them of the ambush on Korda VI, and how the Death Watch had been there supporting the Kordan forces, wanting to maintain a little bit of control over what version of the narrative the council heard. The story would have spread regardless. His _verd’e_ had seen it all and nothing traveled faster than gossip. 

Jaster counted the chattiness of his _verd’e_ as a mixed blessing. 

On the one hand, the tale had helped rally support for a campaign against the Death Watch in addition to garnering support for his adoption of a _jetii_. He would have adopted Ben and his _vod’e_ regardless of anyone else’s opinion on it, but the whole situation certainly was easier with his people supporting him on it rather than fighting him. The story of the Death Watch’s return twined with that of Ben’s valiant defense of the _Mand’alor_ on Korda VI. 

On the other hand, the rumors had also dramatically increased the amount of arguing going on. The New Mandalorians _did not_ want to start a military campaign, even if it would mean the guaranteed safety of their people. They held that _no_ amount of violence was acceptable.

This, of course, drove the True Mandalorians to utter distraction. To allow themselves to be slaughtered by a dishonorable enemy when they _could_ be defending their _aliit_ instead was anathema to them and went against all of the principles they lived their lives by. 

It didn’t help that, so far, this was an isolated incident and only the _Mand’alor_ and his _aliit_ had been the targets. The New Mandalorians were trying to claim that this was a clan dispute, and not an attack that would, or should, be an issue for all of Mandalore. They’d hang Jaster out to dry if they could, and it was obvious. His death would make life a great deal easier for them. At least until the Death Watch showed up to kill them all.

“I won’t be able to be at the clinic tomorrow,” Jaster said tiredly. “I need to deal with the council and the chieftains.”

Jango winced, but he didn’t try to argue.

“Waxer is in the morning slot. Do you think you could make it for when Cody is under the knife in the afternoon?” Jango asked.

Now it was Jaster’s turn to wince. Ben and the rest of the _vod’e_ were anxious enough with any of their brothers in surgery. But Cody and Ben were particularly close, and Cody was their commander -- a thought that continued to make Jaster’s stomach twist sourly. A _child_ leading other _children_. Even if they had been full adults once, watching them plan operations and run headlong into firefights made him nauseous. That, too, went against what True Mandalorians believed in. Family, children, were to be treasured. 

Ben had been mildly terrifying today. Jaster could only imagine how triggerhappy he would be with Cody in surgery. The rest of the _vod’e_ took their cues from Cody, and with Cody unavailable, they would all be that much more on edge. Ben's tension would only make it worse.

Jaster grimaced as he mentally worked through his schedule. 

“I’ll be there for the afternoon,” he promised. “But only during the surgery. I’ll need you to help them calm down tomorrow night.” He could do that much. “And I’ll leave my frequency clear so you can reach me if you need anything.”

“Alright. Thanks,” Jango said with relief. He dragged himself up off of the couch and headed for the door. “I’m gonna crash for the night. Try to get some sleep, _buir_.”

“Yes, _ad_ ,” Jaster said, amused.

He managed to get himself back on his feet long enough to find something quick to eat before he allowed himself to fall into bed. He was too damn old to be skipping meals when he didn’t have to. The next rotation would be tiring enough without any help from him.

There were no emergencies that night, and the next morning, Jaster was off to the council room before most of the palace was even awake. There were reports to read, and he knew that the rest of the council and chieftains would be filtering in as soon as they were awake as well. Too much needed to be settled. 

The morning stretched on much as he expected it to. The True Mandalorian chieftains were all shouting that they needed to shore up their defenses and start planning an offensive against the Death Watch. The New Mandalorians were all arguing that that sort of action was unnecessary and would only strike up another war that might finally destroy them all.

Thanks to his station as _Mand'alor_ , people listened to Jaster. Usually. Right now he felt like he was shouting into the wind half of the time. It would take weeks to get any kind of a plan in place, the way the council was carrying on.

He needed to talk to his _verd’e_ and their clan leaders, and at least get some small scale defenses set up. Better to give the warriors a goal to shoot for right away than wait and see what kind of karking mess they got themselves into without working together.

It was a relief to excuse himself to gather lunch for his _ad’e_. 

He timed his exit so that he would be on his way just as Waxer was getting out of surgery and piled boxes of food into his speeder before he set out for the clinic. He’d heard nothing, but no news was good news. Jaster could trust that if anything went wrong, Jango would let him know immediately.

The thought had barely crossed his mind before an earth shattering _boom_ rocked the biodome.

“The kriff?!” Dread tightened in Jaster’s gut.

There was smoke beginning to rise from the clinic in the distance. 

He slammed on the accelerator and opened his comms. “Montross, there’s been an explosion at the clinic. Notify emergency services and get the City Guard here. Gather up the _verd’e_ and protect the council.”

“Sir!” Montross acknowledged.

“Send back up to the clinic, too. Mereel out.” Jaster turned off the comm and focused on getting to his _ad’e_ as quickly as possible.

 _Please, don’t let them do anything stupid and get killed_.

Faint hope, at least for the recklessness. Jaster almost wanted to kick something. The hypervigilant little terrors had been _right_. 

They were going to be twice as hard to deal with after this.

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Watching as the medics finished the removal of Waxer's chip, Ben let himself relax his intent observation of the building through the Force a little. This third surgery had also gone well, and there was no reason to think that the others wouldn't also. And now that it was over except for the recovery phase, there was little reason to--

A concussive blast ripped through the building, sending a shock through him in the Force as an unknown number of people were killed, the pressure wave like a kick to the chest that made him stumble. The building's power flickered out briefly before the backup generators kicked in, and a wide variety of alarms began wailing.

His ears ringing, Ben ignored the many-toned beeping. All of his _Vod'e_ were on the alert and waiting for his orders. He could feel them itching to move, to fight, to defend.

Straightening and glancing over at Jango to make sure their _ori'vod_ was alright, Ben gave his men what they wanted. No, what they needed. "Helix, stay with Waxer," he said, keeping his voice as level as he could manage. "Cody, Boil, take Jango and go secure the northern side of the building. That blast came from the northwestern corner. Wooley, Crys and Longshot? You three are running search and rescue with me."

Before Jango could protest him taking charge, Ben put his bucket on and hurried out of the room, his half of the _Vod'e_ on his heels. He heard Jango swear at him over the comms, but ignored it. Cody would straighten that situation out. He'd simply threaten to leave Jango behind if he had to.

Moving quickly along his chosen wing of the roughly triangular building, Ben was glad of his bucket's air filters. Thick black smoke was beginning to fill the air, and he could see fires growing in a number of places near the blast zone.

"Crys, can you find the oxygen line shut off switch?" He asked. "There's sure to be one somewhere in this wing, and we need to make sure there isn't a second explosion."

"I'm on it, sir," Crys replied immediately, and peeled off to double check the length of the corridor they'd already cleared to make sure they hadn't passed it by.

"Wooley," he carried on, "see if you can't find and activate the fire suppression systems. They seem to have failed and we need to get that fire under control as soon as we possibly can."

"Yes, General!"

"Longshot?"

"Sir?" The sniper came to attention the moment Ben spoke to him.

"You're on lookout. If either of your _Vod'e_ gets into trouble, get to them. If you see anything else dangerous, warn me. I'll be busy trying to get the victims out of that mess."

"Yes, sir!"

Reaching out with the Force, he could feel about twelve people, trapped under the mass of burning plasteel and metal. There were water lines spraying their contents uncontrollably into the pile of rubble, threatening to drown the victims that had survived the initial blast, and Ben knew that the sheer weight of the debris could easily cause anyone stuck beneath it to suffocate.

He'd have to be careful.

"The oxygen is off, sir," Crys reported as he reappeared at Ben's elbow. "Wooley reports that the fire suppression system was badly damaged and might be inoperable. He's trying to get enough of it working to be useful."

"Good work, Crys, but I'm afraid we have another problem. The water lines are helping keep the fire in check, but the flow is uncontrolled and we risk the victims drowning, as things stand."

"Understood, General. There was a water shut off valve alongside the one for the oxygen."

"You know what to do, then," Ben told him and started lifting the chunks of debris at the top of the pile with the Force, aiming to set them aside in as neat a stack as he could manage in a nearby room that was both mostly intact and empty.

Before he could remove more than the uppermost chunks of plasteel, the Force sang out a warning to him, and Longshot called out, "Sir, on your left!"

Ben tucked into a roll and dove away from his position so he could take stock of what had happened, only to come under blaster fire from a group of nine men in armour that bore the Death Watch insignia. Another ten jogged past the scene in the background, disappearing into the other areas of the clinic before Ben could act to stop them. Cody would have to find a way to hold them off until he could send the _Vod'e_ who'd come with him to help the rest of his men.

In the meantime, he'd have to set aside his goal of rescuing the trapped blast victims in favour of dealing with their attackers. Longshot covered him, long enough for Ben to grab his lightsabre off his belt.

When it lit with its usual deeply satisfying hiss of sound, a startled shout of _jetii!_ went up from the Death Watch members, and they attacked him with renewed ferocity.

It didn't help them. 

As he immersed himself more deeply in the Force, time seemed to slow. Ben was suddenly very aware of the buzzing protectiveness, fear, and outraged anger his men felt over the attack that had been made. The familiarity of it was reassuring, for all that the feeling was bound up in negative emotion. His men were at his back and ready to follow him into the jaws of death, if needed. 

The shocked feel of the Death Watch that had spotted him barely registered.

He used his focus to shift out of the path of one blaster bolt even as he deflected another into the wall with his 'sabre.

A barrage of five more shots streaked toward him.

Ben deflected three back at the shooters, wounding them, and ignored the other two as they impacted harmlessly at his feet, leaving behind fairly sizable craters in the flooring. 

Six of the black-armoured Death Watch _verd'e_ remained to be dealt with.

Ben took a step towards them, bringing his lightsabre back up into a guard position with a flourish, and felt Longshot's concentration spike as he did. Their sniper was crouched in a position that left him mostly protected by a chunk of debris and taking aim at what Ben assumed he thought was the leader of the squad that had tried to take them on.

Blocking another two bolts that had been aimed at Longshot and letting the Force guide him as he bent over backward to dodge another two, Ben decided that the backplate of his armour would have to go. It restricted his movement too much.

He straightened and took another step towards the remaining Death Watch brought their attention back to him.

The buzz of outrage coming from Crys spiked, and a volley of blaster fire blazed towards the attackers from a cleverly hidden flanking position that the _Vod_ had managed to get to. Wooley, who'd stealthily made his way around behind the Death Watch, unseen despite his brightly painted armour, got four shots off before the Death Watch even realised he was there.

Down to two members out of their original nine, the Death Watch swore and ducked back out of the hole they'd blasted in the wall. "You haven't seen the last of us, _jetii_!" They called over their shoulders.

"Should we pursue, General?" Crys asked him.

"No," Ben decided. "We need to act fast, if we're to have any chance of getting the victims out of the rubble alive."

A few of the black-armoured bodies on the floor were groaning, injured but alive.

Ben ignored them wholesale. As the most likely perpetrators of what was almost certainly a very intentional bombing of a civilian target, he felt no real sympathy for those of their men who were still among the living.

"Longshot, Crys," he called out, "Go help Cody and Boil. I don't doubt that they have things under control, but I'd like to see this mess resolved quickly."

As he finished speaking, the ground shook underfoot again as a second blast tore through the northern wing of the clinic.

No. _Force, no._

Ben reached out, fear and worry driving him, spurring him on, trying to touch the familiar Force presences of Jango and the two _Vod'e_ he'd sent that way.

He found Cody almost immediately and the relief that swept through him was staggering. He found Boil a moment later, followed by Jango and -- to his surprise -- Jaster, as well.

"Sir?" Longshot prompted him. "You alright?"

"I'm fine, Longshot, and so are the others. For now, at least. Get moving. Wooley and I will see to this." He commanded.

His troopers hesitated, reluctant to leave him with only one man as backup, then saluted and went. "Yes, General," they chorused.

As they finished speaking, their comms went live and Cody's voice came through, the transmission picking up mid-sentence. "--aking heavy fire," he said, his tone containing harshly controlled stress, "We need any _Vod'e_ you can spare, General! They--" his words cut off in a grunt, then picked up again. "They've got us pinned down in a pincer attack!"

Crys and Longshot didn't bother waiting around for Ben to tell them to get going a second time. They simply shouldered their blaster rifles and picked up the pace, double-timing it off down the corridor. "We're on our way, Commander," Longshot responded, "inbound on the northwestern corner in about fifteen seconds."

"Alright, Wooley," Ben said, "let's get this done so we can join them ourselves."

"Ready when you are, General."

Every so often, as they worked to dig the survivors out of the rubble, a burst of swearing would come over the comms, but Ben could tell that the _Vod'e_ were holding their own, even as outnumbered as they had to be.

It took him some ten minutes, even with Wooley's help, to clear away enough of the rubble that they could reach the last survivor, who happened to be one of the clinic's medics and miraculously mostly uninjured. She took charge of the wounded without stopping to say a word to them, and Ben took that as permission to leave the casualties in her care.

"Time to go," he said simply, and hooked his lightsabre back on the clip at his waist before he turned to follow the same path down the half-shattered corridor that Crys and Longshot had. He flipped on his comm as he moved, speaking over the background of quiet swearing and grunts that came over the line, as was usual when any of them opened it unexpectedly. "General and _Vod_ incoming," he announced, making the swearing cut off abruptly, as Wooley followed him without question. "Northwestern corner."

"Copy that, General," Cody answered promptly. "We're holding for now, but they're not giving up easily."

They didn't have far to go, as it turned out. They approached the sharp right-hand corner at the end of the corridor cautiously. It looked scorched, coated in soot and ash, and Ben could hear the fighting taking place on the far side. He reached out with the Force, immediately finding Crys and Longshot, holed up in one of the nearby examination rooms. The rest of his men and Jango and Jaster were farther down the corridor, near the clinic's entrance, and pinned down from both sides despite their own very competent defences and the assistance Crys and Longshot could render.

Having assessed the situation, Ben took his lightsabre back in hand and ignited it as he stepped around the corner. The moment he was visible, the Death Watch took notice.

"Target the _jetii_!" One of them shouted, and then the entire group was shooting at him, making him their focus. 

Well aware that his men wouldn't simply allow that to happen unchallenged, Ben blocked the fire aimed at him, redirecting it at the walls, and slowly advanced down the corridor, feeling Longshot and Crys join him and Wooley as they passed by the room the pair of _Vod'e_ had been hiding in.

"Good to see you're in one piece, General," Boil said over the comms, audibly relieved. "Got the first blast contained?"

"It's taken care of," Wooley replied, saving Ben the trouble and letting him maintain his focus on his defense. "What about the second?"

"We haven't been able to get free of these positions long enough to check. It hit the northeastern corner," Jango chimed in, breaking his silence. Ben suspected he'd been keeping a very narrow focus ever since the battle had begun, and simply left the task of maintaining communications with him and the _Vod'e_ to Cody.

That was likely, Ben realised belatedly as he swept his lightsabre around and into another block, because the lot of them had somehow forgotten to save Jaster's frequency on their new wrist comms, forcing Jango to coordinate things between the _Vod'e_ and Jaster until their _buir_ could get to them. "You haven't mentioned him, so I'm going to assume _buir_ is fine," he replied, getting a short affirmative in return.

Choosing his moment wisely, Cody ducked around the doorframe of the room he'd been holed up in and defending, and started taking pot shots at the Death Watch who'd turned away from their position to face Ben and fire at him. The Commander managed to wound two and kill a third before they got wise to his tricks and pulled back towards the clinic's entrance, aware that suddenly the tables had turned and it was _their_ turn to be outflanked and come under vicious fire from two sides.

One step at a time, Ben pushed them back, not giving back a span of the ground he took, and sensed more than saw Cody, Boil, Jaster, and Jango doing the same from the other side of the reception area. Behind him, Crys, Wooley, and Longshot added their own supporting fire into the mix.

After he and his _Vod'e_ had drawn even with the reception desk, the Death Watch forces broke. They turned and flung themselves at the ranks of the City Guard that had gathered outside the clinic's entrance in a suicidally brazen attempt to get out of their compromised position.

The _Vod'e_ formed up at his back, firing between the now-lazy swipes of his 'sabre as he defended them from the last few stray blaster bolts that came their way.

Outside the clinic doors, Ben could see that the City Guard had killed three of the Death Watch _verd'e_ who'd been attempting to escape the scene and captured another two.

As suddenly as it had started, the fight was over.

Ben, suddenly feeling the weight of the rotation fall onto his shoulders like a heavy cloak, took a deep breath and extinguished his lightsabre.

It had been all of an hour since the first blast had gone off, but the clinic was in ruins, for all that it was still standing.

"General?" Cody stepped up to him. "What's the situation in the western corridor? Do we need to do anything to help out there?"

"No, we're free to go deal with the second blast site," Ben said, hearing the tired rasp in his own voice and clearing his throat.

"You should go with _buir_ to check on Helix and Waxer, Ben," Jango suggested. "Your _vod'e_ and I can handle the other blast site."

Tempted to protest, Ben drew himself up, but Jaster nodded. "The second blast may have been large enough to reach them, depending on what was used."

That was true. "Alright, but first I should find out if there's anything immediate that needs to be handled, like things that would require heavy machinery to lift."

Jango gave him a sidelong look. "You already did that at the first blast site, didn't you?" he asked, rhetorically.

"He did," Crys confirmed.

Putting an armoured hand on Ben's shoulder, Jaster gave him a serious look, then turned to meet all of the others' eyes, one by one. "You've all done well today, _ad'ike_ ," he told them solemnly, "but your tasks are over now. The City Guard and I can handle whatever else needs attention. Don't overextend yourselves needlessly."

As though she'd been waiting for a cue, an armoured member of the City Guard with insignia Ben didn't recognise moved up to wait a couple of steps away, in a silent request for Jaster's attention. She didn't remove her bucket, but Ben could tell she was watching him closely, curious. His presence on Mandalore hadn't been openly announced, but knowing the way that gossip traveled, Ben wasn't about to dismiss the possibility that she'd heard about the _Mand'alor_ 's adopted _jetii_. And he was sure she'd seen him using his sabre a moment ago.

"Yes, Captain Sina?" Jaster acknowledged her.

"We believe the situation outside is contained, _Mand'alor_. Do you have further orders for us?"

"If you have the people to spare that are good at logistics, have them assist in organising the cleanup of the clinic. There will need to be an investigation to determine how those bombs got planted, where the Death Watch planting them came from, and what measures can be undertaken to prevent this from happening again."

"I will take care of it personally," she decided. "My people can take the prisoners back to the city holding cells and question them, in the meantime, and the fire brigade is outside, waiting for the go-ahead that it's safe for them to come clear the building."

"Excellent," Jaster thanked her with a nod. "Contact me if any other issues arise, but for now I must check on my _ad_ , who was recovering in one of the southern wards when the attack hit."

"Of course, _Mand'alor_." The City Guard Captain touched a clenched fist to her breastplate in salute, and turned on her heel to pass along the orders she'd been given.

Jango started off down the corridors, heading back toward the ward where Waxer had been recovering under Helix's protection, a heaviness in his stride that hadn't been there that morning. Ben was sure it was a mix of weariness and sadness. "We need to do something about Death Watch, _buir_ ," he said, serious. "This is far more than the clan dispute the New Mandalorians want to believe it is."

"I agree, _ad_ , but what would you have me do against an enemy that lurks in the shadows until my back is turned?" Jaster replied quietly, walking beside him.

From his position on Jaster's other side, Ben put in, "Those sorts of enemies must be lured into the light. Offer them a target they can't resist: me. You heard how they immediately focused all their attention on me despite having you at their backs. I have no doubt they'd do it again if they thought they could get at me."

The offer got him glares from every last one of the _Vod'e_ as well as his _buir_ and _ori'vod_.

"Kark that," Cody declared, offended. "I know you're better at tactics than that. They'll simply overwhelm you by attacking with all the firepower they can gather. Come up with a better plan than making yourself a target."

"That's the whole point, Cody," Ben pointed out, keeping his voice reasonable. "The more of them we can get in the same place at once, the more effective we'll be at dealing with them. Rather than manage a long drawn out hunt, we'd only have to go out into the field once or twice."

Jaster shook his head. "Cody is right," he disagreed. "You have a point about gathering them, so that we have no need to scatter our forces, but using yourself as bait is never a good plan, _ad'ika_."

The discussion ended there -- temporarily, Ben was sure -- because they'd come up on the door to the ward Waxer had been put in what felt like years ago.

As Jaster and Jango entered, Waxer and Helix looked up and made identical almost pained sounds of relief. "Thank the Force," Waxer said quietly. "What the kriff is going on out there?"

Boil slid onto the mattress and stripped off his hand guards. Waxer immediately accepted the silent invitation, taking his hand and gripping it tightly.

"Death Watch," Jango answered him, his tone turning the words into an epithet. "They attacked the clinic. Blasted a couple of big holes in it. Killed a lot of civilians. Your _vod'e_ , _buir_ and I dealt with them."

Waxer paled, then swallowed hard. "Were they targeting someone?"

The followup question, 'was it our fault?', went unspoken.

Ben heard it anyway. "Not that we could determine, Waxer," he answered, "but it's likely that the clinic will have to shut down operations for a while, so that repairs can be carried out."

The _Vod'e_ exchanged looks, all asking one another the same question: how would the rest of them get the chips removed, if the clinic was that heavily damaged and the medics with the necessary experience potentially injured or dead?

Cody was frustrated enough with the current state of affairs to make Ben wonder if the buzzing he could feel in the Force would physically manifest somehow. "The repairs are likely to take weeks," he said, the syllables staccato and sharp.

Jango sighed and nodded, "Probably. We'll figure something out, Cody. The Death Watch isn't going to get away with what they pulled today."

Boil nodded. "They took heavy losses, and I don't think they'll forget that anytime soon," he put in. "They'll want revenge, and we can probably leverage that to make a better plan than the General's."

Helix scoffed. "He trying to use himself as bait again?"

Ben scowled. "You'll find that this bait can fight back," he protested, indignant.

A third blast shook the ground the clinic stood on, about half a klick to the northwest judging by the sound of it -- at the palace, Ben suspected -- and then a fourth, almost immediately after the first. 

"Kriff!" Jaster swore. "Jango, keep an eye on your _vod'ike_ ," he demanded and hurried out of the room.

Ben watched him go, thought back to the camp on Korda VI they'd been supposed to sit around and guard, and caught Cody's attention.

They didn't have to exchange a word. "We're moving out, _Vod'e_ ," Cody ordered. "Helix and Boil will stay here with Waxer. The rest of us will be needed at the palace."

Jango looked at Cody in alarm, realised he wasn't going to be able to keep them here, and gave in to the inevitable. " _Buir_ won't like this one bit," he muttered. 

The _Vod'e_ shrugged more or less in unison. Cody spoke up to answer. "We know he won't, but being sure he's got backup is worth enduring just about any punishment he could devise."

Jaster had won their loyalty, Ben reflected, and that came with a certain degree of overprotectiveness. The _Vod'e_ took care of their own, and that was that. He'd seen it time and time again in the way the Wolfpack ferociously defended Plo. In the way his own men went above and beyond the call of duty to follow him into uncertain situations that required implicit trust in him and his abilities. 

And now they were about to do the same for their _buir_. 

Ben smiled. "Let's get moving, then, Commander," he said, starting for the door and whatever vehicle they could beg, borrow, or steal. "We'll be late to the party if we linger."

Jango groaned and checked his blaster in its holster. "I just know I'm gonna regret this," he said. 

That got him snickers from the rest of the _Vod'e_. "Don't worry, _ori'vod_ ," Wooley told him, "we'll make sure _buir_ knows it wasn't your decision."

Jango shook his head. "That won't help," he said heavily, "but since you're set on this I'd better go with you."

"Even if the fighting is over by the time we get there," Crys pointed out, "we need to be on site. The _Mand'alor_ going to face another karking bomb blast site alone? That might as well be a fancy invitation that will read 'come kill me' to those Death Watch."

"And there are almost guaranteed to still be some at the palace," Longshot pointed out. "That's an important target. More important than the clinic."

Ben stopped in his tracks for a moment as the pieces fell into place. Longshot was right. The clinic _had_ been a secondary target. "Kark. They're trying to finish what they started on Korda VI. This wasn't just a bombing. It was another assassination attempt, and the only reason it didn't work is that _buir_ was en route to the clinic when the first two bombs went off."

Cody was looking at him in alarm. "We need to get to him," he said tightly, urgency in his voice, " _now_."

Hearing their Commander fall right back into his battle mindset, the rest of the _Vod'e_ all automatically straightened to attention and checked their weapons. Cody gave them an approving nod, then demanded, "What route is _buir_ likely to take, Jango?"

"Probably the one we took getting here," Jango said. "It's the shortest, so it's the one we usually take."

Thereby making their movements predictable. Ben wanted to groan. Capable warriors, Jaster and Jango certainly were. Experienced in the kind of long-term strategies and tactical considerations a war required of its generals? Not at all.

And the pair of them both wanted to protect him and his men badly enough to make horrible tactical blunders. Like running off alone to the palace.

"Right. Jango, you're driving," Ben decided and started running for the clinic doors. His men followed him without a word. Jango swore at them once more then joined them, his longer legs allowing him to catch up fairly easily.

Within two minutes, they were back in the speeder they'd arrived in that morning, the _Vod'e_ choosing to forego their usual once-over of the vehicle in favour of speed. Ben knew Cody didn't like simply trusting in a transport that hadn't been maintained and secured by men he knew were solid, the way he could have, aboard the _Resolute_ or the _Negotiator_ , but right now they were at a disadvantage and needed every second they could reasonably save.

"We'll need to act decisively if we're going to keep this assassination attempt from succeeding after all," Ben picked up the thread again, the moment the speeder was moving. "Cody, we'll be diving directly into a firefight, in all likelihood. How much ammunition have you got left?"

"Not a lot, General," Cody confirmed his suspicions. "We were forced to waste a lot of it just keeping the Death Watch at the clinic from rushing our positions."

"I've got the lead, then," Ben said firmly. "No arguments. You four stay behind me and make every shot count. Jango can be our free agent and scout. He'll draw less attention than we will."

Cody looked and felt like he wanted to protest, but knew he wouldn't win. 

Jango, on the other hand, scowled. "If you think I'm going to run off and leave you five alone against a bunch of Death Watch, you're crazy. If the Death Watch didn't try to kill me, _buir_ might."

Wooley scoffed. "Nah, he wouldn't. He adores you too much," he said, not unsympathetically.

"His idea of punishment is to make us learn about the way Mandalore works," Longshot put in, "which is something we'd be doing anyway. On the trip back from Korda VI, he made us study politics for a full rotation, remember?"

Ben nodded. "That was fascinating," he commented, making Jango give him a brief incredulous look. "The intricacies are almost as convoluted as what goes on in the Senate."

Cody groaned. "You're something else, General. That kind of nonsense just gives the rest of us a headache. Now, shut up and focus. We're coming up on the palace grounds."

"That's a lot more smoke than there would be if the fighting was over," Jango said tightly. "They haven't had time to get it under control."

Ben felt it as Crys' focus narrowed down to the coming fight. The other _Vod'e_ weren't far behind. Longshot checked his rifle. "I'll be most use to you up high," he said.

With a sharp nod, Cody accepted that. "Stay in contact. We can't afford to lose anyone."

"Copy that, Commander," Longshot replied, watching the palace walls come into view, and gave him a salute.

Ben could hear the grin in his voice as he reached for the controls on his left vambrace. " _K'oyacyi, Vod'e_ ," he told them, in lieu of any kind of goodbye, demanding that they still be around to greet him again after this, and leapt into the air. With a flare of the thrusters mounted to the back of his armour, he sent himself soaring into the artificial sky of the biodome and toward the palace walls in a low arc. 

Jango swore again when that made the speeder buck under his hands, and glared after him. "You are all kriffing insane," he grumbled. "Get ready to jump if they fire at us as we get into the courtyard."

Ben simply stood up, using the Force to keep himself steady through the maneuvers Jango was making. "Leave them to me," he said, taking his lightsabre off its clip.

As they came within sight of the palace gates, Cody drew his blaster pistol from its holster. The remaining two _Vod'e_ still in the speeder followed suit, and moments later they were through the gates. A shout went up from the pair of Death Watch _verd'e_ that had been stationed there. Longshot promptly took one out of the fight, when he foolishly assumed that all members of their party were in the speeder. Crys and Wooley blasted the other.

Ben waited until Jango pulled the speeder to a halt, taking in the scene at a glance. There was smoke rising from the central building, where the Council chamber and other administrative areas were housed, as well as from the wing containing the _Mand'alor_ 's apartments. Both were aflame, and there was fighting taking place around both areas, as well as the barracks beside the training grounds, judging by the sound of blasters firing.

The four of them and Jango jumped hurriedly out of the speeder, abandoning it to take up a position roughly under Longshot's, with their backs to the southwestern corner of the courtyard, allowing Ben to block any shots that might come their way from the Death Watch taking part in either of the two ongoing skirmishes.

"Jango, let _buir_ know we're here and then see if you can get to the armoury and secure us some more ammunition. The rest of us will keep them occupied here and pick off as many as we can in the meantime," Ben took advantage of the moment of peace they had before anyone but the sentries had spotted them, and used it to start giving orders.

With a pained sound, Jango did as Ben asked. "Fine, but so far I haven't liked a single one of your plans, _vod'ika_."

Jango's sprint across the courtyard to the armoury got the attention of both groups of the Death Watch.

Those inside the southern wing, attacking the _Mand'alor_ 's apartments, didn't have an angle on him, but those in the central building noticed that Ben and his _Vod'e_ were there and began firing at them.

Igniting his 'sabre and starting to deflect blaster shots away from them, Ben kept a careful eye on the area, and Longshot, being in a position to deal with the Death Watch in the Palace's central building, took precise, measured shots to remove them from the fight one by one.

Cody, Crys and Wooley, clustered carefully in the shelter of Ben's defense, occasionally shot back at the remaining Death Watch members that showed themselves long enough to fire at them, helping to keep the attention on their little group rather than their _ori'vod_ or their sniper.

Without more ammunition for their blasters, they were going to get pinned down pretty soon, though, with little ability to do more than distract the Death Watch and defend themselves.

And while even that would help Jaster's _verd'e_ , all five of them preferred to take a much more active role in the fights they got into.

That was the moment Jango called for their attention over their comms. "I've got your ammunition and a couple of _verd'e_. Is the courtyard reasonably secure?" He asked.

"About the same as when you left, Jango," Cody answered, shooting at one of the Death Watch in the central building and wounding him. "We'll cover you."

Without another word, Jango burst out of the armoury with a pair of armoured _verd'e_ on his heels. Ben recognised Ardanna and Mira, and grinned, pleased to see them. Cody, Crys, and Wooley, assured that they wouldn't be left without the capability to defend themselves, each other, and Ben, began viciously defending the trio as they crossed the open ground to get to Ben. 

"So even Jango listens to you, it seems, little general," Ardanna said in lieu of a greeting. Mira, who had been carrying the bulk of the ammunition packs, began handing them out to the _Vod'e_ who gratefully accepted them with thanks.

Ben laughed, even as he kept up his airtight defense, so accustomed to doing that sort of thing that he could split his focus enough to plan or hold conversation. "Only under lots of protest. What can you tell us about the situation inside?"

"Not much," Ardanna told him apologetically, joining the _Vod'e_ in taking potshots at the Death Watch that were still shooting at them. "Mira and I barricaded ourselves inside the armoury when the explosions started. At first we had no idea the _Mand'alor_ was back, or we'd have tried to get to him, and once we knew he had returned it was too dangerous for us to try to cross the courtyard. There's no cover out here besides the speeders and your _jetii'kad_. As it is, we saw him fight his way into the main building, and that's all we know. He didn't cross paths with us again before Jango got to us. The Death Watch didn't even bother trying to breach the armoury."

"We should head to the apartments first," Cody suggested over open comms, so that Longshot could hear him, as well. "Help whoever's there mop up, and then sweep around to the central building from the inside corridors. "

Ardanna and Mira nodded. "Sensible plan."

Ben considered that. "The rest of you do that. I'm going into the central building directly. Whoever's in there may need help, too."

"Still have yet to like any of your plans," Jango grumbled. "But I haven't got a better one right now."

Crys and Wooley chuckled, as they prepared themselves to make the dash from the cover of Ben's sabre, through the hole in the side of the building, and into the fight.

Longshot broke his silence, speaking over their comms. "I'm coming down to join you. My position's mostly useless, now that they've figured out they shouldn't stick their heads out of the windows, and I need some more ammunition, myself."

"Ardanna, Mira," Jango said, "please go with my _vod'ike_. I'm backing up Ben. If I know my _buir_ , he's still in there somewhere."

Ardanna nodded as Longshot's feet touched the ground, leaving him standing beside her. "Very well. We'll aim to meet up somewhere in the central building."

Taking that as his cue, Ben simply started advancing, his sabre still flashing blue with each shot he blocked or deflected. "I'll get you as close as I can," he said, refocusing his attention on the incoming shots, rather than planning.

All of his _Vod'e_ came on point, at that, and Ben felt Jango and their other two recruits do the same a beat later, less attuned to his body language.

Their progress after that was quick. It seemed like no time at all had passed before the _Vod'e_ , Ardanna, and Mira had nimbly vaulted the remains of the wall and disappeared into the building.

Letting himself smile, all teeth, as he heard the shouts of dismay come from inside, Ben stopped defending and went on the attack. "Follow me, Jango," he demanded, breaking into a jog, and then a dead run, continuing to block blaster fire as he went and sending as much of it as he could manage back at the shooters, his 'sabre now held almost vertically in front of him.

Jango kept pace with him, a step behind him and to his right, as they rushed the main doors of the central building. The doors were standing ajar, and more dark smoke was billowing out into the air of the courtyard. Ben reached out with the Force and yanked the door all the way open as they approached, catching another Death Watch member off guard. Jango shot him as they passed the threshold, and didn't so much as look back.

It took them less than a minute to climb the two flights of stairs to the landing outside the council room. The smoke was thicker inside the large foyer, and there were a number of small fires burning merrily all over the open area. The council room doors hung off their hinges, and a large crater in the floor suggested that the Death Watch had blasted the room open.

Ben could hear the sounds of blaster fire coming from down the hallway to his right, and knew that was likely to be his _Vod'e_. He could feel their familiar buzzing adrenaline-fueled anger and aggression.

Reaching out with the Force to locate his _buir_ , Ben wanted to sigh. Of kriffing course Jaster would have gone to try to aid his _verd'e_. "We need to get to _buir_ ," he told Jango, giving just enough warning to ensure his _ori'vod_ could follow him before he set off again. "Headed toward the barracks," he reported tersely over the comms and got an equally terse acknowledgement from Cody.

As he and Jango burst out one of the doors that opened on the training yard, at the back of the central building, they found themselves enveloped in chaos.

"Into the air," Ben called, and Force jumped, sending himself upwards, to perch on the side of the central building for a better view. Jango didn't follow, and it took Ben a moment to discern why.

His _buir_ was taking on a man carrying a karking lightsabre of a sort Ben had never seen before. Its blade was like black fire, and it glowed a searing white along its edges, crackling like the flame it resembled as it sliced through the air.

The _Mand'alor_ was ducking and weaving around the man wielding it -- a _verd_ in bright green and gold armour -- and his _Haat Mando'ad'e_ were trying to support him; they were sending blasterfire at the stranger with the lightsabre from several different directions. It just wasn't very effective, hindering Jaster as much as it helped.

Jango had taken up a position near the door to the central building -- keeping an eye out for more Death Watch, Ben was certain -- and held his fire.

Ben reached for the Force, making another leap and unceremoniously hauling Jaster backwards out of the way of a slash that would have taken his hand off at the wrist. He was there, his blade locked with the unfamiliar mandalorian's, before anyone else could so much as blink. "Mind if I cut in, _buir_?" he asked, mock solicitously.

The unidentified man growled something uncomplimentary under his breath. "So you've taken your perversion of our ways so far as to consort with the _jetiise_?" He asked Jaster, his tone containing implications that Ben didn't appreciate. "Adopting _aruetiise_ like them has weakened the _mando'ad'e_ , and your _code_ ," he sneered the word, "will render Mandalore easy prey for the galaxy. I'll kill you and your _jetii_ before I allow that."

Sounding somewhat out of breath, Jaster replied, "You can try, Tor, but none of us will make that easy for you. Ben, you should be with your _ad'e_."

"I am," he replied absently, blocking an overhead strike and turning to dodge the follow-through. "They're cleaning up in the south wing."

And then he had to focus on the fight, because his opponent was far more skilled than he'd expected and he was starting to tire. The rotation had started early, and he'd already fought three battles.

He and the stranger -- Tor, apparently -- exchanged several more blows, neither of them truly gaining the upper hand, and then a blaster bolt streaked through the air, coming from one of the windows on the top floor of the central building, to hit Tor's left shoulder.

Injured but undeterred, Tor swore viciously at him and put yet more strength into his slashes, doing his best to overwhelm and overpower. It very nearly worked, too, to Ben's dismay. Even as the Force screamed a warning at him, Tor managed to close with him, leaving them corps-à-corps, and disarmed him with a punch to his elbow that made his hand go numb and spasm. His 'sabre was immediately kicked well out of range and Ben lost sight of it. It wasn't out of his reach, but--

A second punch, and Ben found himself sprawled on the ground, dazed, staring up the length of his adversary's blade. "You're good, _jetii_ , but I'm better," he said, drawing back his sword arm and going for the kill.

A grappling line wrapped around his elbow, and then a second, yanking his arm away, and Ben followed them to Jango and Cody. Jaster was there nearly before Ben had realised that anyone had gotten between him and what had seemed like certain disaster, ignoring the weapon still in Tor's hands to simply get in close and try to punch him until he fell unconscious.

Snarling in annoyance, and finally realising that all of his men had been killed or disabled, Tor cut the pair of grappling lines, broke off the fight, and ran.

Jaster's _verd'e_ gave chase, but the _Mand'alor_ simply went down on one armoured knee next to him. "As stunning a display of swordsmanship as that was, _ad_ , I had it under control," he said.

"He nearly cut off your hand, _buir_ ," Ben pointed out, letting himself relax back against the ground, worn out but not regretting intervening whatsoever, "and it worked out fine."

Jaster took a deep breath, and Ben felt the frustration and worry spike in the Force before his _buir_ managed to calm himself down. "At least _kriffing tell me the plan before you jump in_ , then!"

Cody stepped over and put a sympathetic hand on the _Mand'alor_ 's shoulder, only able to reach because Jaster was still on one knee. "I've known him for years, _buir_. He never bothers to spell out his plans because he doesn't plan. _Jetiise_ follow the Force and their karking _instincts_."

Jaster drew breath to say something more, but his comm link beeped, interrupting the discussion, and they all fell silent as he answered. "Mereel."

"Sir," a slightly harried sounding male voice said, "there is a ship full of _jetiise_ requesting clearance to land at the spaceport. What are your orders?" 

Jaster glanced at Ben, looking for an answer. Ben nodded. "It's probably whoever the Council sent to evaluate me," he said quietly. "Let them land. I'll deal with them."

His _buir_ nodded. "Have them set down on one of the outer landing pads," he replied to the traffic controller's request. "My _ad'e_ will escort them while they are planetside."

Clicking the comm back off, Jaster pinched at the bridge of his nose. "They couldn't have picked a worse time to show up," he muttered in disgust.

Jango snorted. "Well, they didn't show up _during_ our battle with the Death Watch," he said with a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.

"For that, _ad_ , I'm sending you with Ben. Go greet those _jetiise_ , and make sure they don't start any trouble. Take some of your _vod'ike_ with you."

Ben swallowed back a tired groan. This rotation simply didn't want to end. "Force, I hope they didn't send anyone overly annoying," he said and surveyed his men. "Helix will let us know when Waxer is cleared to leave the clinic. The rest of you are coming with me and Jango. Any objections?"

Crys waved him off. "Let’s get going, General, or you'll be too late to greet the _jetiise_ properly."

By which Ben knew he meant 'with the amount of theatre you prefer'.

Huffing at his trooper, Ben turned and tried to simply march away without another word. Cody cleared his throat. "General? I think you may be forgetting something."

"What's that, Cody?" He asked, knowing he probably sounded a bit miffed.

His Commander wordlessly held out his lightsabre hilt. The crystals in it hummed at him, a sense of irritation in the tone.

Ben took it wordlessly, clipped it back onto his belt, and kept walking. Jango fell in beside Cody, and Ben heard his Commander start complaining about him, clearly intending him to hear every word. "You may want to invest in a clip like the General has for his lightsabre," Cody said, conversationally, though he was radiating a messy mix of faint amusement, lingering frustration, and worry in the Force. "I had one on my full-sized armour, and I clearly need to find a way to transfer it to this set."

"I don't think I'll be able to find a clip for a lightsabre on Mandalore," Jango pointed out.

"Sure you can; Ardanna will make you one if you ask her," Cody responded, making Ben grit his teeth a little. "The General keeps saying that a lightsabre is a _jetii_ 's life, and yet _somehow_ I seem to end up needing to keep track of it."

"I knew exactly where it was," Ben protested. "Another second and I would have pulled it back into my hand."

"Oh? So you were just letting the tension of the moment build while he tried to kill you?" Cody asked, innocently as he could manage.

Jango and the _Vod'e_ snickered. 

"What fun is a battle without a little bit of tension?" Ben decided to wind up his Commander a little more.

He just knew he would need a long while to decompress once this rotation was finally over -- and that that would probably apply to the next few as well -- and, he looked down at himself a bit ruefully, clean his soot-streaked and scuffed armour in detail.


	7. Chapter 7

\--- POV: Qui-Gon Jinn ---

“Something’s amiss,” Qui-Gon Jinn said. He felt the disturbance in the Force the moment they dropped out of hyperspace above Mandalore. 

“So it seems, my padawan,” Master Dooku rumbled next to him. They both peered out of the viewing window of their small ship. Master Windu was at the helm, but aside from the three of them it had been decided that no others would take part in this mission. 

Qui-Gon would have preferred to bring along his padawan, Xanatos, but Master Dooku had been against it. He’d pointed out that Xanatos was still young, and prone to aggression. Such tendencies would jeopardize their mission and potentially bring the wrath of the Mandalorians down on them. Warrior cultures were all too often eager to solve their disputes with blasters. Qui-Gon had reluctantly acquiesced. Xanatos had been disappointed, but he had studies he could catch up on at the Temple. He would be well occupied for the few short weeks that Qui-Gon would be away.

As they approached the capital city, Sundari, the first thing that drew their attention was smoke rising up from the biodome that covered the city.

“This bodes well,” Qui-Gon said with dry amusement.

“Why do all your missions end up like this, Jinn?” Master Windu asked with exasperation. 

“We move as the Force directs us. Besides, I fail to see how I had any hand in this.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Qui-Gon was mildly amused. It did seem like most of his missions ended up as disasters of one kind or another. 

Master Dooku was silent next to them, but Qui-Gon could tell that his former master was worried about something in particular. Or someone. Probably that initiate.

It took time for them to be granted admittance into the biodome, and once there it took even longer to get cleared to go to the palace. Understandable, given that the palace was still partially on fire. Qui-Gon was tempted to urge them into landing ahead of clearance, but Master Windu vetoed that suggestion with a look.

“If Mandalore is on fire, no one is going to be happy to see three Jedi show up,” Master Windu told him firmly. “And they might start blaming us. We’re not here to solve their problems, we’re here to test a wayward initiate.”

“We may end up solving their problems anyways, Master,” Qui-Gon had to add.

“Or making them worse,” Master Dooku said.

“Let’s try to avoid that,” Master Windu remarked dryly.

“As the Council wills.” Qui-Gon couldn’t resist getting the last word. Judging by Master Windu’s answering sigh, he knew that was exactly what it was, too.

When they were finally given permission to land, they were met on the landing pad by a cadre of younglings accompanying a young man, all of them dressed in full _beskar’gam_. The Force echoed around them with pain and anger, but this group in particular had the feel of angry bees about them. It was tempting to dismiss them. They were very young, young enough that they likely wouldn’t even be chosen as padawans yet, had they been younglings in the crèche. All of them looked a little worse for wear, with scuff marks, smoke stains, and other signs of battle still on them.

But the little one in front had a lightsabre hilt on his belt, and while the others felt like swarming, stinging pockets of fury in the Force, this one felt like nothing at all. His shields were durasteel tight.

“Greetings, _jetiise_ ,” the older teenager said with a nod of his head. “I’m Jango Fett. My _buir_ , the _Mand’alor_ , is currently occupied dealing with the aftermath of an insurgent attack, so he sent me and my _vod’ike_ to greet you.”

Master Dooku stepped forward and bowed. “We thank you for your hospitality, Jango Fett.” Then, to Qui-Gon’s surprise, he turned slightly to the youngling with the lightsabre and bowed deeply. “Ben Kenobi. It is a pleasure to see you again, and I look forward to our continued training together.”

Only years of diplomatic training kept Qui-gon's jaw from dropping. Master Dooku had just bowed to a child, showing the level of respect he would only give to someone who was a master of their craft.

The little one, Ben, bowed back just as deeply. “Master Dooku, the pleasure is mine.”

“With me are Jedi Councilor Master Mace Windu and Master Qui-Gon Jinn,” Master Dooku said, gesturing at them both as they bowed.

The angry swarm feeling from the other younglings lessened at the mention of Master Windu’s name, but redoubled at the mention of Qui-Gon’s. He was suddenly the focus of several frighteningly blank helms and he didn’t have the foggiest idea why.

 _When did I run afoul of a group of feral children?_

He’d gotten a basic brief from Master Dooku. There was an initiate here of unusual skill, accompanied by several other children who functioned as a pseudo-military unit, all of whom had been recently adopted by the _Mand'alor_. All of which was odd, to say the least, but none of it gave him any indication why they might dislike him on sight.

“Did you steal their pudding?” Master Windu muttered quietly to Qui-Gon, just softly enough that it wouldn’t carry.

Qui-Gon could only shake his head in bafflement.

There was a long moment of silence as the children all stared at Qui-Gon, and everyone else stared at the children. Even Jango Fett. Which meant he’d noticed the children’s ire as well and didn’t know what to make of it. 

“How delightful,” Ben said evenly. If he had any expression on his face, the helm covered it up. That was a strange sight as well; a Jedi in full armor. “I am sure that we will have many things to speak of, and I look forward to sparring with you all.”

Jango eyed his adopted siblings for a moment, and then his helm turned towards the Jedi once more. “If you’ll follow me, we can get you settled into one of the available guest suites at the palace. I’m afraid that our _buir_ likely won’t be able to greet you until tomorrow, though you are welcome to have dinner with me and my _vod’ike_.”

The Jedi fell in beside Jango and Ben. One of the other younglings walked at Ben’s side like a little bodyguard, while the rest of them followed behind the Jedi. Qui-Gon was reminded of prison transports. It would have been ridiculous except for how it was also vaguely alarming. 

Of the three of them, only Master Dooku was at ease. Qui-Gon was very familiar with his old master and he knew that it wasn’t pretense. Master Windu was alive with curiosity.

Qui-Gon just felt a bit hunted. 

Jango and his concerning brothers escorted them to the palace and into an undamaged suite on the topmost floor of the central building that stood at the rear of the wide courtyard. They had windows that allowed them a good view of the training area that was located behind the building, and the furnishings seemed comfortable enough. Once he and the other masters had looked around and declared themselves satisfied with the accommodations, Jango Fett advised them that dinner would be served in an hour. Before they could all leave, Master Dooku held up a hand to request they pause a moment.

“Forgive me, but even though we have traveled a long way, I find myself eager to speak with you again, Ben.” He looked to Ben and gestured in towards the sitting room of his guest suite. “Would you be willing to join me for a cup of tea before dinner? Your brothers are, of course, welcome.”

As hard as it was to discern emotion from under all of that _beskar’gam_ , it seemed like little Ben’s whole body lifted up a bit. The movement was quickly reined in, but not before two of the other younglings snorted in amusement.

“We’ll never pry him away now,” one whispered to the other.

“I would be delighted to,” Ben answered primly, and gave Master Dooku a shallow bow. “It’s been a while since my last good cup of tea.”

Jango looked back and forth between Ben and Master Dooku.

“ _Vod’ika_?” Jango asked.

Ben waved him off. “We’ll be fine, and this will likely be boring for you. Tea should be appreciated.”

“A _jetii_ thing, huh. Well. You have my comm frequency.” Jango paused and looked at the younglings. “... Should I worry about collateral damage?”

Little giggles came out from under the helms.

“I will attempt to keep it to a minimum,” Ben answered dryly.

Jango snorted, shook his head, and then took his leave. Curiously, the rest of the younglings stayed.

Master Dooku led them all into the sitting room and began to rummage around in his sleeve pocket. 

“Ahh. Deychin tea. Have you ever had it?” He held out a small packet.

He'd planned this!

Qui-Gon was impressed. And also a bit baffled, because Master Dooku had planned a tea party with a ten year old, and had to have done so before they'd left Coruscant. He and his master had, of course, done such things when Qui-Gon was a padawan, but the atmosphere had always felt stiflingly formal to him. Master Dooku was very proper, while Qui-Gon enjoyed a significantly more relaxed attitude. This had often caused them problems during Qui-Gon’s training.

What was more baffling was how interested Ben seemed. He promptly moved to show Master Dooku where the tea pot was kept and helped him set up the service.

Qui-Gon exchanged a look with Master Windu, who just shrugged.

“I have had Deychin,” Ben said easily. “It’s a very complicated tea and not suited for casual drinking.”

“Again, you show your wisdom, youngling,” Master Dooku said approvingly. “It is a layered flavor, brought about by the slow drying process of the Deychin flower.”

“What variety do you have?”

While Master Dooku and Ben went back and forth on the subject of palate and aftertaste, Qui-Gon stood next to Master Windu and watched. The four other younglings also stood back and watched, but their focus was obviously solely on Qui-Gon. It made for a very odd situation, with the Jedi on one side of the room and four fully armored and clearly annoyed children on the other, with Master Dooku and Ben in the middle setting a table and discussing drying processes.

“I feel like they think I owe them money,” Qui-Gon muttered to Master Windu. “I am certain I haven’t had any unfortunate incidents with loan sharks who keep children collectors.”

“Just ones who have regular adult collectors?” Master Windu muttered back, though most of his focus was on Master Dooku and Ben.

Qui-Gon huffed in amusement.

Once the tea had started steeping, they all settled into chairs around the sitting room. Unsurprisingly, the younglings arranged themselves around Ben, three on one side between Ben and Qui-Gon, and one on the other between him and Master Dooku. When the little ones took off their helms, Qui-Gon was surprised to see how much four of them looked alike; short hair in military cuts -- though one seemed to have dyed his hair blond and not refreshed it recently -- complemented intelligent dark eyes and sharp looks. Ben was a pale, ginger boy with a particularly cherubic face. All of them looked tired.

“Where are your other brothers? I hope all is well with them,” Master Dooku asked as the tea steeped.

The angry buzzing in the Force intensified, and the children looked downright murderous.

“They were caught up in one of the explosions,” Ben said with a grim downturn of his lips. “Only Waxer needs time to recover, but Boil and Helix are standing guard.” Qui-Gon noticed that this was a shading of the truth, but not an outright lie. It didn’t seem the time to point it out, though, so Qui-Gon just tucked that information away. “Forgive me for not introducing my other _vod’e_ sooner. These are Cody, Longshot, Crys, and Wooley.” He pointed to his brothers as he named them.

The little boys nodded.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Master Windu said, nodding to them.

“Kind of a shame that you didn’t bring Master Plo,” Wooley said glumly.

All of the visiting Jedi froze in surprise. How did these children know _Plo Koon_?

“Shut it, _vod_ , that’s rude,” Crys said, elbowing him. “Besides, they brought Mace, and he’s just as good.”

Qui-Gon and Master Dooku turned to look at Master Windu, whose eyebrows were high on his forehead in surprise. If nothing else, the level of informality and familiarity they were showing was stunning.

“I am?” Mace asked.

The two little boys suddenly got a look on their faces like they’d been caught stealing candy out of a jar.

“Uh.” Crys and Wooley both stared at Master Windu, and then as one turned to look at Ben.

“I think the tea is done,” Ben said, very blatantly changing the subject. 

“Have we met before?” Master Windu asked.

“Not yet,” Ben said with a smirk that implied he knew something very interesting about that topic which they didn't.

Cody snorted quietly.

Ben reached for the tea pot, but Master Dooku waved him off.

“Please, allow me,” Master Dooku said with great dignity. It quickly became clear why Master Dooku had offered. Little Ben’s arms were too short to easily reach the pot across the table, and judging by the rueful look on Ben’s face, he’d just realized that as well.

Ben looked at his cup of tea with quiet delight, though there still wasn’t a hint of emotion leaking out from behind his shields. His brothers looked less sanguine about it; each of them eyed their cups like they were filled with snake oil. Qui-Gon accepted his with a nod of thanks.

Master Windu just scowled at the children. “I am quite curious. Why am I just as good as Master Koon?”

The little soldiers all looked to Ben, who was still cradling his cup in both his hands like it held liquid credits. 

“A good smell,” Ben said, inhaling reverently. “It teases the back of the nose. Very light, and _cold_. How interesting. What variety did you say this was?”

“A special blend,” Master Dooku said with obvious amusement at Ben’s tactics. “It contains Deychin flowers dried with the Satrue and Vila herbs. The exact process lends the brew a very unique flavor. It is called Auspicious Venture.”

Ben’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Appropriate.”

Master Windu glared at them both. It wasn’t often that anyone had the temerity to so blatantly ignore him.

Ben took a shallow sip and closed his eyes as he savored the flavor. 

“Fascinating,” he said quietly. “It tastes like blasterfire in snow. Heat from the water, but chilling from the herbs, and the flavor of steel and ozone that curls on the tongue.” 

_How_ an initiate would know what the scent and taste of blasterfire in snow was like, Qui-Gon didn’t want to consider. It seemed possible that this was common knowledge for younglings here. After all, Mandalorians were a warrior people. But somehow, he got the feeling that this wasn’t the correct explanation for Ben, and it worried him.

“A suitable tea for drinking on Mandalore,” Master Dooku said.

Qui-Gon sipped from his cup sparingly. He enjoyed tea quite a bit, but his favorite was Sapir tea. It had a rich, bold taste. Perfect for waking up. Deychin tea had more bite to it than he usually prefered.

“Do not think I will be deterred, Ben Kenobi,” Master Windu warned between sips of his tea.

Ben sighed. “Of course not, Master Windu. It is just that your reputation precedes you. We know you to be honorable.”

“That’s quite a bit of excitement to be caused by nothing more than reputation,” Master Windu said. It was clear that he found Ben’s answer to be as unsatisfying as Qui-Gon did.

Ben sipped his tea. 

“If it makes you feel any better, we have not met before today, but we definitely will meet again in the future. You and all of my _vod’e_.”

“You’ve had a vision?” Master Windu asked, leaning in.

“If I told you how we know, you wouldn’t believe me.” Ben waved a dismissive hand at them. “Suffice to say that while we are not familiar with each other now, we will be eventually.”

“Is that why your brothers know of me as well?” Qui-Gon had to ask. If they already had preconceived notions of Masters Windu and Koon, it was logical that they had some, perhaps unjustified, ideas about him as well. 

Ben’s fingers clenched on his tea cup and his face twitched.

That angry buzzing feeling in the Force intensified.

“No, _jetii_ ,” Cody answered coldly. “We have never met you, and what little we have heard doesn’t bear repeating.”

Qui-Gon frowned. “I feel that you are all laboring under some misconceptions.”

“Peace, _vod’e_ ,” Ben said firmly. “Master Qui-Gon is an excellent Jedi, and a credit to the Order.”

The other little boys looked like they’d swallowed a citrus-sour.

“My padawan, you do always seem to find yourself in the most interesting situations,” Master Dooku said with a sideways smirk.

“That’s why we like G-- Master Plo,” Wooley said, pointing his finger at Master Dooku. “He’s as sensible as a _jetii_ can be. He looks out for his people.”

“His people…?” Master Windu cast worried looks at Qui-Gon and Master Dooku.

“Mmm. The Wolfpack,” Crys said under his breath, and then drained his cup like he was drinking beer. He made a face afterwards, too.

“I’d join them, if our General died,” Longshot said with a firm nod.

“Oh, me too,” Wooley said quickly. “Hands down.”

“Already trying to get rid of me?” Ben asked with amusement.

“Of course not, sir,” Cody said with mock innocence. “We’re just planning for all eventualities.”

“One of which is Ben’s death?” Qui-Gon had to ask. “As he is your... general?”

“Absolutely.” The look Cody gave him was cutting. “Someone taught him some damn fool habits about rushing into danger and taking ridiculous risks--”

“I take _acceptable_ risks, thank you,” Ben objected.

“-- And _someone_ taught him to run himself into the ground--”

“You’re _ten_ ,” Master Windu interrupted.

“I’m twelve, if you please,” Ben said tartly.

“-- And _someone_ instilled him in an innate dislike of medics. Now who could that have been, sir?” Cody turned his glare on Ben.

Ben just raised a quelling eyebrow at Cody and sipped his tea.

This was the strangest damn conversation that Qui-Gon had ever been a part of. 

“Your master taught you these things?” Master Dooku said. There was a tinge of disapproval in his voice.

Despite all the teasing, Ben looked utterly unruffled. It was unnatural to see such calm and composure in such a small child. He simply took a moment to quietly look at his cup as he no doubt thought of what to say. Qui-Gon found it telling that he didn’t look anyone in the eye. A small tell amidst a wealth of perfect control.

“My master…” Ben took another sip. “Was an excellent Jedi. I learned many things from him, and his loss still pains me.”

“He’s dead?” Master Windu clarified.

Ben nodded. “Murdered in front of me. You will forgive me if I don’t wish to speak on it further.”

“And his murderer?” Qui-Gon asked, pressing the issue.

The look that Ben gave him was sharp, still, and completely bone chilling. “Thoroughly murdered in return,” he said evenly.

Though nothing in the room had changed, Qui-Gon felt a shiver race up his spine. He had the uneasy, sinking feeling that it was Ben who had avenged his fallen master.

“Enough of that, though,” Ben said cheerfully. “We have more important things to discuss.”

“Such as?” Master Windu asked. Qui-Gon didn’t even know what to say. Their conversation had already taken more turns than he’d ever anticipated.

“Such as the state of Mandalore and what the Jedi Order can do for them.”

Qui-Gon blinked at him. “Audacious, aren’t you?” he asked.

Cody snorted softly behind his tea cup and muttered, “You have no idea.”

“Come now, it’s not so dire.” Ben smiled charmingly at them. “You... three... wish to stay and test me. Train with me, quite possibly.” He looked at Master Dooku and winked. “But I’m afraid the small, pesky matter of a civil war has come up, and until that is resolved, I will be... less available than I’d like to pursue matters of the Force with you.”

“You’re leveraging your time spent with us as payment for the Jedi Order’s involvement in a _civil war_?” Master Windu said. He let his mouth hang open in astonishment at the end of the question. Qui-Gon was right there with him.

 _Audacious_ didn’t quite cover it.

“Mmmm,” Ben said with twinkling eyes. “It wouldn’t be more than you can reasonably offer. Yourselves, while you are here. Plus a small team of knights, if you were so inclined. But more importantly, I have need of the Agricorps.”

“That’s quite a lot to ask in exchange for something we would be allowed to do anyways,” Master Dooku pointed out. He bypassed the idea that the Agricorps -- a group of farmers, Force sensitive ones, yes, but still _farmers_ \-- could do more than a team of knights and masters, but Qui-gon held out hope that this latest bit of insanity would be explained soon.

“When our _buir_ adopted me, I became _mando’ad_. The Jedi Order no longer has any claim on me. I am, however, willing to share with you what I know, as well as train anyone who wishes to join me here.”

“Initiates?” Qui-gon asked. Visions of scores of child soldiers in _beskar’gam_ came worryingly to mind.

Ben shrugged. “If you want. I have trained younglings before. But I expect that knights and masters would be more interested in the skills that I can impart.”

“You are an expert with a blade,” Master Dooku admitted. “And I find myself powerfully curious about what your control over the Force looks like.”

“I am a master of Soresu, but I am proficient with all other forms.” Ben raised an eyebrow at Master Windu. “Even Vaapad, though it isn’t my favorite.”

“Who the kriff taught you Vaapad?” Master Windu asked, setting down his tea cup. He didn’t quite slam it down, but there was a brief surge in the Force as he very deliberately released his frustrations.

“Aid Mandalore and find out,” Ben answered serenely. 

“And Makashi and Jar’kai?” Master Dooku asked. Those were his specialties; he’d mastered both so well that only Master Yoda and Master Windu were his equals. “I see you do not carry a second 'sabre.”

Jar’kai's signature moves required two lightsabres to perform.

“I know them both well enough to train others, but I don’t frequently carry more than one weapon,” Ben admitted.

“We can fix that,” Master Dooku said ominously.

“You mean back-up lightsabres are an option?” Cody asked with wide puppy-dog eyes. He turned that lethal expression on Ben. “Sir. _Sir_.”

Ben grimaced. “I make no promises.”

Cody looked like there was more that he wanted to say, but Master Dooku shook his head. 

“The creation of a lightsabre is a very personal thing,” Master Dooku explained. “The crystal chooses the Jedi, adding its power to that of its wielder. Most 'sabres are tuned for a specific type of use.” He set down his cup and pulled out one of the lightsabre hilts from where it was attached at his hip. “See how my hilt is curved at the end? It aids my form. As a master of Soresu, young Ben’s hilt is straight, and it’s length is perfectly crafted for his exact style of use. The Force guides us in what we will need. With such precision and such connection with one’s weapon, most Jedi never carry a spare.”

“There is also the matter of how rare the materials are,” Ben added. “And my chances of going on a crystal quest to Ilum to acquire another are slim to none.” There was an amused twist to his lips.

“Ah. I'd anticipated that this might be an issue and I’ve brought a collection of crystals for you to meditate with. If one is suitable, then there are also materials for you to craft your second sabre.” Master Dooku looked incredibly smug.

Master Windu, Qui-Gon, and Ben all stared at him in blatant astonishment. Each lightsabre crystal was an extremely expensive and valued commodity. They required careful handling to keep them from being damaged and were difficult to acquire. Lightsabres were also extremely rare, precisely because of how personal the creation of one was. 

“You brought him crystals, Master Dooku?” Master Windu asked. 

“Out of my own collection. You needn’t worry that the Temple is missing any.” Master Dooku sipped his tea.

“But why?” Ben asked. 

“Because I want to see your Jar’kai,” Master Dooku answered evenly.

“We could use training 'sabres for that.” Ben gave Master Dooku a measuring look. It was ridiculously out of place on such a little boy.

“Yes, we could.” Master Dooku took a breath and then set down his cup. He leaned in and gave Ben a penetrating look. “You, Ben Kenobi, are already a Jedi Master. You have proven this to me, and I eagerly await the time where we can both hone our skills together. However, master though you are, you are still very young.” He held up a hand to forestall any objections. “This is not a slight against you. I am merely pointing out the opportunities ahead of you. If you are this skilled _now_ , what might you be ten years from now? Or twenty? Or thirty? You are not my padawan, Ben Kenobi, but I would be a fool not to give you every tool you could possibly use to reach your fullest potential.”

He leaned back into his chair and retrieved his tea once more. 

A complicated look sat on Ben’s face. There was confusion and astonishment, as well as a layer of cold calculation that Qui-Gon didn’t like at all. The angry buzzing in the Force from the other children, however, had lightened to something almost like pleasure. 

Such a tight knit little group. Aiding one would win the affection of the others, and hurting one would swiftly bring their anger down upon you. It was curious. The strength of that bond between them was unusual in adults. Maybe it was _because_ they were children, who frequently loved and trusted more easily than those who had the experience to train them otherwise. Once that loyalty was given, it would be impossible to shake.

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “And if this additional aid gives you another person to spar with in a style that you favor…”

“Then all the better for me.” Master Dooku smiled at him.

Qui-Gon gave his former master a long look. “It seems that you have already decided for the Order on whether or not the Jedi will help here.”

“Nonsense. That is up to the Council.” Master Dooku waved a hand dismissively. "Whether I choose to personally invest some time training and speaking with this initiate has no bearing on what the Council decides to do with regards to helping Mandalore."

Master Windu’s face puckered a little but he didn’t comment.

“It is in the Jedi Order’s best interest to act, and also consistent with the Order’s purpose,” Ben addressed Master Windu earnestly. “The attack that took place today was perpetrated by a group called the Death Watch. They are an insurgent group, and attacked a clinic as well as the palace. Their goal was to cause as many civilian casualties as possible. They would very much like to see the _mando'ad'e_ become their own version of the Hutts. Raiders and brigands, with plans for conquest. Our _buir_ , the _Mand'alor_ , is attempting to make the supercommando codex widespread. It is a code of honor that every _mando'ad_ warrior would follow, and complements the _Resol’nare_ : education, armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader. No more mindless war.”

Ben held out a hand towards them, entreating. “The Jedi could save so many lives here and prevent so much horror. Would that not be worth it?”

The truth was that it would be worth it. If this plea had been made to the Order through the Senate, Qui-Gon had no doubt that the Jedi Council would have agreed to send aid. This was precisely the type of peacekeeping that the Jedi _did_.

For all that Qui-Gon was disturbed by Ben and his brothers, he agreed that the Jedi were needed here. Assuming that all was as Ben had said. 

He could feel Master Windu consider this. Master Dooku simply drank his tea, as serene as if he were meditating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains back at the Temple.

“Why do you need the Agricorps?” Master Windu asked.

“To help revitalise the planet’s surface here,” Ben answered promptly.

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows in surprise. He felt continually blindsided by this child.

“How does that help bring an end to the civil war?” Qui-Gon asked.

Ben smirked and sipped his tea. “What is the ideal outcome of a good negotiation, Master Jinn?”

“Everyone feels like they’ve won,” he answered immediately. He hummed. “Someone here wants Mandalore to be inhabitable without biodomes once more.”

“A strange goal for a warrior culture,” Master Dooku remarked.

“Isn’t it,” Ben said dryly. 

The other children were watching them like they were a sporting event, eyes going back and forth between the Jedi like a ball was being passed. 

“And you think you can convince the clan leaders of Mandalore that the Jedi will help them?” Master Windu asked. “That would be a lot to ask of a seasoned negotiator, let alone a youngling.”

“Master Windu,” Ben said with mock offence. “Have a little faith.”

The silence after that was a contemplative one.

“So it’s settled then,” Ben said, promptly standing up.

“What?” Qui-Gon startled in place. 

“Come, _vod’e_. Dinner can wait. We have a council meeting to attend.” Ben waved up his brothers, who all followed without question.

“We haven’t agreed to anything,” Master Windu reminded him.

“Of course not,” Ben said lightly. “I’m twelve, I can’t make binding agreements in the name of the government of Mandalore. You’ll have to officially offer your aid to the council of clan leaders yourself. I’ll just be there to facilitate.”

He took one last sip of his tea and smiled in satisfaction at the taste.

“Thank you for the tea, Master Dooku. I greatly enjoyed it.” He bowed.

Master Dooku stood and bowed in return. “Thank you for joining me. We will need to make this a regular event.”

For a moment, Ben’s face lit up like it was Life Day come early. Then he was back to being the too serious pseudo-adult that he’d been all afternoon. The change was startling.

“I think we should go just to watch this in action,” Qui-Gon said to Master Windu.

Master Windu snorted at him, but eventually nodded his head in agreement.

“Think of this as your evaluation of my mastery of the Politics and Alien Governments course.” Ben grinned at him, and then headed for the door. 

Qui-Gon was not the only one who sighed in exasperation.

Just as they were all about to leave the room, Ben stopped suddenly, halting everyone’s progress.

There were a solid two seconds of silence as confusion radiated off of the Jedi. The little soldiers didn’t seem affected one way or the other; the incessant buzzing of their anger and annoyance never changed. 

“Master Jinn,” Ben said. He turned his head to look at Qui-Gon over his shoulder.

“Yes?”

Sharp as any military officer, Ben spun in place and stepped forward until he was just a hair inside of Qui-Gon’s personal space.

“I understand that you are a renowned diplomat, known for finding ways to forge peaceful accords in even the most inhospitable political climates.” Ben’s face was unreadable, but there was something in his words that Qui-Gon couldn’t put his finger on. 

Qui-Gon shot Master Windu and Master Dooku a look, but tilted his head at Ben in acknowledgement. “I serve the Order as best I can.”

Ben looked up to meet Qui-Gon’s eyes. “I must beseech you, please, _please_ , do _not_ resort to aggressive negotiations.”

Qui-Gon’s jaw dropped a little, and even he couldn’t quite tell whether it was from offense or astonishment. Surely his reputation wasn’t _that_ bad? Granted, he did get into an awful lot of fire fights, and sometimes lightsabres and blasters helped move things along, but few knew about that outside of the Jedi Council.

Master Windu snorted softly. Amusement wafted off of both him and Master Dooku.

“Trust me when I say that I fully appreciate the necessity of solving arguments expeditiously,” Ben continued. There was a knowing glint in his expression that convinced Qui-Gon the boy really did know that sometimes a fight was the best alternative. The feeling of frustrated assent from the other younglings verified that. “But the situation on Mandalore is precarious, for myself, my _vod’e_ , and our _buir_. I am sure you are well aware of the local antipathy towards Jedi. If you bring ‘sabres into this, even if you are attacked, then it will only add fuel to the fire. I implore you, if the situation becomes dangerous, please let me and my _vod’e_ handle it. We will do our best to make sure that no one is hurt.”

Qui-Gon frowned. The idea of children who weren’t old enough to be out of the crèche telling him that they would step in between him and blaster fire was ridiculous. “The sentiment is appreciated, young Kenobi, but unnecessary. We are Jedi Masters. We can easily deal with any potential altercation.”

“Kark, now you’ve said it,” Crys groaned quietly. 

Ben ignored the comment and took another small step forward, putting him nearly chest to... well, face, with Qui-Gon. It was a strange tactic for a child, especially such a young boy who was hardly physically intimidating at all.

“I am well aware that you are all competent fighters, but if you draw your weapons you will kriff this up for everyone,” Ben said solemnly. “Keep your patience, and if you cannot trust in me, then trust in the Force.”

Before Qui-Gon could come up with any kind of a response to that, Ben spun on his heels again and strode out of the room with his brothers trailing after him.

Baffled, he shared a confused look with the other masters. Master Windu just shrugged with one shoulder and shook his head.

“It’s not bad advice,” Master Windu said quietly.

“I suggest we take it,” Master Dooku added, and then he, too, followed the initiate out of the suite.

This whole planet was confusing. Or maybe just these particular people.

Despite all of his concerns, he was incredibly intrigued.

He and Master Windu moved to catch up.

Ben led them through the palace as if he was well acquainted with it. The youngling whose armor was painted mostly black, Cody, walked at Ben’s side. In fact, he hadn’t left Ben’s side for a single moment this afternoon. The other three ranged around the Jedi as if they were guarding them. Or guarding others from them. All of the younglings had put their helms back on, and that only compounded the effect.

It was deeply amusing and a little puzzling. From the feel of the Force around Master Windu and Master Dooku, they agreed. 

As they approached a large door guarded by two armored warriors, Ben slowed down his pace. There was a hastily patched crater in the floor that appeared to be a result of the bombing that had happened before their arrival. Ben's hands flickered in a few gestures; some kind of silent language. Master Dooku had mentioned that they did this. The other younglings didn’t show any response to whatever Ben had told them.

Master Windu shared a grim look with Master Dooku. 

“Halt,” one of the door guards said. “No one is allowed entrance.”

Ben bowed to them. “I am Ben Kenobi, and these are my _vod’e_. I have urgent news for our _buir_ , the _Mand'alor_.”

The guards looked at each other and then looked at the Jedi.

There was a pause as they thought it over. Or perhaps used the comms in their helms to discuss their options.

“You and your _vod’e_ were here earlier, helping repel the attack,” the guard said.

“Rumor has it that the _Mand’alor_ and his other _ad_ owe you a lifedebt,” the other guard added.

“This is true. I wish that I could have done more to help,” Ben answered.

The guards looked at each other again.

One opened up a comm frequency on his wrist. “ _Mand'alor_. Your _ad’e_ are here with a pack of _jetiise_. Should we let them in?”

There was the sound of a frustrated sigh, and then, “Yes, might as well.”

“Thank you,” Ben said, nodding to each of the guards before they headed in.

So far, Qui-Gon was impressed. He’d half assumed that they wouldn’t be allowed in at all, or that he or Master Windu would have to try and talk their way in. It seemed that whatever Ben and his brothers had done earlier had been what granted them entrance, and Qui-Gon was extremely interested in finding out about it.

The council room was a large empty space with a circle of chairs all facing each other in the middle. Guards lined the outer edge of the room and every chair was occupied. Roughly two-thirds of the people in those chairs were wearing _beskar’gam_. The rest were in civilian clothes. Those in armor had their helms off, which Qui-Gon appreciated. It was much easier to gauge body language when facial expressions were visible.

A silence fell over the room once they walked in, uneasy and stifling. The Force vibrated with anger and frustration.

One of the armored men stood up. “ _Ad._ What’s wrong?”

Ben led the Jedi into the center of the circle of chairs. His brothers took up a four pointed perimeter around them with Ben free to wander on the outside. Again, Qui-Gon couldn’t quite be sure who exactly was being guarded here. 

Ben took off his helm, clipped it to a chain on his belt, and bowed to his adopted father. “ _Buir_. The Jedi Order has offered their aid in resolving our conflict with the Death Watch.”

“What?!” More than one person sitting around the circle shouted out.

 _Did we now?_ Qui-Gon thought with some exasperation. Master Windu radiated the same thing, while Master Dooku mostly seemed amused. Ben, as ever, was unreadable. 

“ _Ad_ , explain,” Jaster demanded. He did retake his seat, though, which Qui-Gon found to be a promising sign.

“It is apparent to me that the Death Watch will continue to be a problem if we do not address them directly,” Ben said. “The attacks this morning were dishonorable and costly. In order to protect our people, we must be willing to work together to effectively counter what forces the Death Watch can bring to bear. After the ambush on Korda VI, it is equally clear to me that the Death Watch has involved outside forces in what should have been an internal matter.” 

He began to slowly walk around the room, meeting the eyes of every person seated around them.

“My _vod’e_ and I are, of course, planning to aid that effort. As you have seen today. And I know quite intimately that Mandalore has not historically had good relations with the _jetiise_. But this is the Jedi calling: to aid those who seek peace. More than that, they are willing to render us other types of invaluable aid.”

“What do you mean?” an unarmored man asked. 

“Most of the galaxy is familiar with the Jedi Knights, the warriors of the Order. But that is not all that the Jedi are. They have specific sects that are dedicated to healing, to teaching... even to bringing forth life from the ground. These groups have basic martial training, much like _mando’ad’e_ do, but they bend their abilities with the Force to the task of coaxing forth growth where there is none. Even in places laid waste by past war.”

There was a collective sense of held breath from most of the room.

Ben pressed his advantage. “They cannot do this until the Death Watch are no longer a threat. The Agricorps are not warriors, they are healers of the earth. If we can all work together to settle the dispute between the clans, we stand to gain much.”

The look on Jaster Mereel’s face was probably similar to what Qui-Gon’s was doing. Poorly masked shock.

“How come we have never heard of the _jetiise_ doing such things?” one of the armored warriors on the other side of the circle spoke up, a woman with a strong face and a scar over her right eye.

“Mandalore is on the Outer Rim, in space that is often dangerous to venture into, even for the Order. Those who are dedicated to the non-militant sects of the Jedi Order have their havens closer to the Core for safety reasons,” Ben answered. “Sending them here would be a risk.”

“Why would they bother? What do they get out of it?” another asked.

“Why are we listening to a _child_?” someone snarled from behind the Jedi. “A _jetii_ child, no less. How can we trust that this isn’t just another veiled attack?!”

The angry buzzing in the Force from the younglings around them increased to the point where it was nearly a physical sensation. Long years of practice and control made sure that Qui-Gon showed nothing of his discomfort, but he wanted to.

Ben circled back, though there wasn’t an ounce of alarm or anger in him. “Am I not _Mando’ad_? Have I not proven my willingness to fight, to die for my _buir_ , for Mandalore? I have already told the Order that I will not return with them. My place is here, and it is my duty, to my _buir_ , to my _aliit_ , to our leader, to help in every way I can. That includes bringing every ally I have access to forward to aid us.”

These were not the arguments of a child. Not even a particularly well spoken one. If Qui-Gon were to close his eyes, it would take no effort at all to imagine a full adult in Ben’s stead. 

Who _was_ this youngling?

And what the kriff had he done earlier today?

“And the _jetiise_ are willing to aid Mandalore out of the kindness of their heart?” someone asked with scorn in their voice. “They only care about what the Republic _tells_ them to care about.”

Each of the Jedi stiffened in place, and a low, smouldering resentment radiated off of Master Dooku for a moment before quickly slithering away under his shields.

Ben glanced back at Master Dooku, and then shifted his attention back to the circle of councilors around them. 

“Perhaps that has been the case in the past, but the Jedi Order as a whole is better than that. Stronger,” Ben said. “No one is beyond the Light of the Force, and the tenets of the Order dictate that Jedi must serve those who need assistance, regardless of where those in need live.”

Those words felt like they were meant for the Jedi as well as the mandalorians around them, regardless of who Ben was looking at. It was a jab, and a stinging one at that. From the smirks sprinkled across the room, the mandalorians had picked up on it as well.

Ben looked to Master Windu and raised an eyebrow. Time to pass the verbal ball, apparently.

Master Windu nodded at him, and said, “Ben Kenobi is correct. The Jedi are peacekeepers, and we go anywhere that we are needed, provided we have the resources to do so. I will admit that it was not our goal to aid in your conflict when we arrived, but now that we are here and we begin see what must be done… we need more information to gauge how we can best aid you in resolving this situation, but we’re willing to help.”

“Just like that,” Jaster said, sounding mildly skeptical.

“Ben Kenobi is your clan, _Mand'alor_ ,” Master Dooku said. “But he was ours, first. We will not turn our backs on him in his time of need, even if he has left the Order and gives no allegiance to the Temple. _Especially_ when his cause is so noble.”

That stopped Ben in his tracks, and he stared at Master Dooku with an expression of such wonder and pain that it hurt to look at.

He covered it with a deep bow to Master Dooku. 

“Master, you honor me,” he said roughly.

To be honest, Qui-Gon wasn’t sure that he agreed with Master Windu's decision to intervene. This was a delicate situation, and one that the Jedi were not involved in. One that they didn’t need to be involved in. As much as it pained Qui-Gon to admit it, there were times where one had to let situations resolve themselves. He wasn’t sure if this was one of them, given his limited knowledge of what was going on and who was involved, but sometimes the costs and risks weren’t worth the investment of resources. And, though he didn’t like to acknowledge it, he knew that the Jedi had very limited resources. 

He also knew that jumping in to try and solve other people’s problems didn’t always work out for the best in the long run. A peace built on an external set of ideals seldom held up over time. It had to be the people themselves who made it work.

There was the subtle sound of shifting all around the room, and some muttering between those seated there.

“So they're willing to offer, what? A few knights? A handful of soldiers to stop the Death Watch?” one of the armored ones said above the whispers. 

Qui-Gon was sensing a trend. Those who were unarmored were keenly interested in what Ben had to say about the Agricorps, and those in armor seemed more resentful. The two factions were clearly delineated in the Force. 

“A single Jedi Master is worth an army,” Qui-Gon said. “The Force is a powerful tool. Having _three_ masters here is far more than what we would send to most conflicts.” He nodded to Master Windu and Master Dooku.

While Qui-Gon would support Master Windu here, he was intensely uncomfortable with the idea of Jedi working as fighters to put down an enemy. Sadly, he knew that Jedi Guardians were occasionally sent out to do exactly that. Master Dooku was frequently sent on such missions. Sometimes it was necessary. One Jedi could stop a great deal of bloodshed by resolving a fight quickly.

“I’ve seen Ben fight,” Jaster added. “My _verd’e_ can attest to it as well. He’s a sandstorm in motion. I find myself curious to see what these three can do.”

“In order for our efforts to be effective, you would all need to cooperate,” Ben said. “New Mandalorians and supercommandos together. With the Jedi Order aiding us, we could put a permanent end to the Death Watch terror attacks, and then build a better Mandalore as a united people.”

Silence rang across the room.

Jaster didn't bother to bite back quiet laughter. “You don’t do anything by halves, do you, _ad_?”

“Of course not, _buir_. That would be wasteful.” Ben grinned back at him.

As if the exchange signaled an all out free-for-all, the councilors around them all started talking at once, with each other, with those across the room. Questions and ideas were shouted out, with Ben and the Jedi and Jaster answering as they could.

For the first time the feeling in the room turned hopeful. 

“Did we all just get steamrolled by a crècheling?” Qui-Gon muttered to the other two masters.

“I think we did,” Master Windu responded in kind.

Master Dooku just looked incredibly smug. 

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

The occupants of the council chamber had long since dissolved into open conversation. Questions were shouted across the room and answered while pairs and small groups of chieftains and council members chatted quietly. Every so often the room would quiet as a particularly interesting question was posed, or a rather sharp rebuttal made. Throughout the whole affair, the visiting _jetiise_ stood in the middle of the circle of chairs with the four stationary _vod’e_ as guards, and Ben wandered back and forth answering questions as needed. 

Jaster expected this conversation to go on for some time. Weeks, possibly. The council would never make the decision of going to war lightly, but at least now he had some hope that he would be able to get the backing he needed to actually win the coming conflict. He would have never attempted to gain the aid of the _jetiise_. It would never have even occurred to him.

Yet somehow, Ben had managed to maneuver all of them right into position to get everyone working together. Jaster was incredibly impressed. 

And also a little annoyed, simply because of how often his new _ad’e_ liked to throw themselves into the fray. It had been a damn long day, for all of them.

Jaster frowned and looked at his chrono. 

Kark, but it was hours past dinner. At some point, Jango had joined the _verd’e_ along the edges of the room, standing guard, but Jaster had been too caught up in the arguing to do more than give his _ad_ a nod.

The second realization hit him. 

It was nearly the middle of the night and Ben and his _vod’e_ hadn’t yet had a chance to rest. Jaster cast a critical eye over them. Ben’s face was drawn and pale, though he stood sharply upright. Maybe too sharply. Cody and the others had barely moved at all for what must have been hours now. They had the rigid look of men standing still so they wouldn’t fall over.

Kriffing hells.

“Ben,” Jaster said, standing up again. He kept his voice low to allow the room to continue to talk around him, but he knew damn well he’d be drawing attention to them no matter what. He’d have to tread carefully; Ben was a kind, generous soul, but he would be painfully aware of appearances. Jaster couldn’t treat him with anything less than full respect.

No matter how much he wanted to just order the boy to bed.

“ _Buir_ ,” Ben said with a respectful nod.

“ _Ad_ , it’s late. You and your _vod’e_ have had a long day. It’s time to rest. We can handle things from here,” Jaster said in what he hoped was a kind tone.

Cody snorted. “With respect, _buir_ , you need us here.”

Jaster narrowed his eyes, and felt the room grow a little quieter around him. Great. Now he’d be graded on his parenting skills, too. Well, that was nothing new. The wellbeing of his new _ad’e_ was important.

“Surely you don’t think that the _jetiise_ will attack us all once you’ve left?” Jaster asked, raising an eyebrow at the encircled masters. Master Dooku smirked back and Master Jinn’s mouth twitched.

“They are not the only concern,” Ben said.

“So it’s us attacking them that you worry about?” Jaster let a bit of tartness into his voice. That was dangerous talk around mandalorians, where honor was everything.

“Still not the only concern,” Ben shook his head. “Death Watch is active. We dare not let our guard down.”

Jaster blinked at him.

“Ben.” He licked his lips and took a breath. Kriff, but this little general’s paranoia was the stuff of legends. “The room is surrounded by guards. We are in the heart of the palace. Half of us here are fully armed and armored. What do you think could happen?”

“ _Buir_ ,” Cody said chidingly. “There are many guards, but I have yet to see safeguards against droid attack. Assassin droids could slither through the vents.” He nodded over towards the air duct openings along the walls. “Or they could just come through the holes already blasted through the walls earlier today.” Jaster couldn’t see his face, but he would bet cold hard credits that Cody was raising an eyebrow under his helm.

“Those same vents could be used to pipe in poison gas. Lots of nasty ones out there, too,” Wooley added.

“They could bring in Dark Force users as well,” Ben said. “Unlikely, but not impossible.”

“Or they could just crash a spaceship through the ceiling,” Longshot said, pointing up. 

“Missiles through the walls,” Crys said.

“Drop troopers and snipers from above,” Longshot pointed out. “A good assassin or group can take down lookouts without being spotted.”

“More bombings,” Ben said. “Hitting the foundations would work. Or just blowing up a strategic chunk of the biodome, so that it drops down onto the palace.”

With every word the room got quieter and quieter and Jaster grew more and more horrified. He knew that he wasn’t the only one.

The worst part was that as improbable as those tactics seemed... they would work. 

Jaster shook his head. “The Death Watch took massive casualties today. Yes, in part thanks to you all, but there is no way that they’d be ready for another attempt. They need to regroup. Gather their _verd’e_. Maybe even retrain and replace the men that were lost.”

“ _Buir_ ,” Ben said gently, “you're thinking like an honorable man. By attacking civilians, by attacking a clinic, the Death Watch have already proven that they will use whatever base tactics that they can think of. What happens if they blackmail civilians to carry bombs for them?”

“Or hire criminals and thugs to fill in the gaps In their ranks?” Cody asked.

“Or maybe use their own suicide troops?” Crys added.

“ _Mando’ad’e_ hold that their _aliit_ is of vital importance. What parent wouldn’t do harm to others to protect a threatened child?” Longshot asked.

“Or worse,” Ben said. “They use the children. Adults will do what they must for their _ad’e_ , but an adult has a wealth of experience with which to reason and think of alternative solutions. Threaten the parents and then send a child with the bombs... that would be disastrously effective. Because who would stop a child from entering a building?”

Jaster felt sick to his stomach. From the look of sheer horror on the faces around him, he was not the only one.

“What even made you think of all of this?” Jaster asked in a harsh whisper. Some part of him didn’t even want to know, but the words came out unbidden.

“Experience,” Ben said dryly. There was a pained twist to his lips. “Gleaned on all sides of this particular problem.”

“When were you involved in a guerilla war, youngling?” Master Dooku asked.

Ben’s eyes flickered back towards the _jetiise_ , but he didn’t turn away from Jaster. The silence in the room was heavy.

“... My _vod’e_ and I have fought many battles, on many worlds. While much of that was... more conventional warfare, I’ve had more than a little personal experience with civil wars.” He blinked and stared off into the nothing just beside Jaster. “There was a world with two warring factions. They’d fought and died for centuries, and their younglings finally decided it was enough. They rose up against their elders and attempted to stop the war. By themselves. My master and I were assigned to recover a fellow Jedi master who had been sent there to help resolve the conflict…” He took a breath and shook his head sharply. “They’d disappeared. While in pursuit of finding them, I was approached by the children and asked for my aid. I was young enough to be one of them.”

“And?” Jaster asked when the silence stretched a little too long.

“We were able to recover the missing master with information given to us by the local children. I requested that we stay to help them. The war was brutal and the children had no support,” Ben said blankly. His face was impassive as he looked back to Jaster. “My master declared the situation a lost cause. I disagreed. I joined the youngling’s efforts to bring peace.”

“And your master?” Rate Karit, Chieftain of the Yatri Clan asked.

Ben looked over with that curious empty expression of his. “He left. I was cast off, for a padawan that cannot maintain proper detachment is unworthy to aspire to the rank of knight.”

All of Jaster’s horror turned to smouldering, murderous rage.

Adonai Kryze, Chieftain of Clan Kryze, shot a sharp look at the visiting masters. “I thought you said you wouldn’t leave one of your own. If this is what you do to your own younglings --”

Master Dooku held up a hand to silence him before he could go any further. His mouth twisted in distaste. “We do not. Should not. The Temple on Coruscant has no record of Ben Kenobi ever being in the Order. The Council did not oversee his padawanship. Before my team ran into him and the _Mand’alor_ on Korda VI, we had no knowledge of any of this.”

“That is why we originally came here,” Master Windu said. “The Council has concerns about his training and his advanced abilities.”

That earned them a flicker of a smirk from Ben, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. 

There were some confused and speculative looks cast around the room. Jaster, of course, knew the truth. The Council had not _yet_ permitted Ben’s training, nor condoned his Master's actions. But they _would_.

He found himself less inclined than ever to allow any of the _jetiise_ access to his _ad_. 

“Who was your master, Ben?” Master Jinn asked.

“He is dead. That is all you need to know,” Ben answered.

“You did return to the Order, though,” Master Jinn half-stated, half-asked.

“I did. Eventually,” Ben conceded with a small nod. “I stayed with the younglings of that world for several months, fighting alongside them. We were able to force a ceasefire and strong armed the planet elders to the negotiating table. We thought we’d won. There was peace. Then an insurgent attack killed one of our leaders. The situation deteriorated and I sent a message to my old master requesting his aid once again. After much contemplation, my master decided perhaps I was still salvageable. He returned to reacquire me, I was accepted back into the Order, and my apprenticeship continued.”

“Under the same master,” Jaster asked, though he feared he knew the answer already.

“Of course. He didn’t die until some time later.” Ben shrugged. “I learned much from my time there.” He shifted his focus back to Jaster. “Which is why you should listen to me when I tell you that your defenses have holes in them, and if I can think of ways to kill you all, then the Death Watch can, too.” 

Jaster had to stop and breathe for a minute. He covered his face with one hand and desperately attempted to maintain his calm. The cool plates of his _beskar’gam_ and harsh fabric of armorweave gloves helped focus him.

“And I do hope you realize that they were trying to kill you specifically.” Ben raised an eyebrow at Jaster.

“What?” Gratus Razi, Chieftain of Clan Rook asked, incredulous.

“Tor Vizsla was here,” Jaster said. “He holds a grudge against me. Of course he would try to kill me.”

“It’s not just that, _buir_.” Ben settled one arm across his chest and brought the other up to stroke his chin. More than one person in the council room raised an eyebrow at the gesture, and Jaster was sure that he heard Cody snort. “Consider... The first attack was at the clinic, where my _vod’e_ and I have been for the last two days and had planned to be for the next several. Now, if they had only been attempting to instill terror or cause casualties, the Death Watch would have simply bombed the place and let it be. Zero friendly casualties. So why would they send in men if they’d already accomplished their task?”

“The third and fourth bombs only went off after the Death Watch at the clinic had been routed,” Cody said, nodding towards Ben. “Maybe that was just poor timing, but that’s an awfully large time gap between the first and the consecutive attacks. Seems more likely that they waited to see if you would survive, _buir_. It was just luck that you weren't actually in the clinic when the explosion went off.”

“Precisely,” Ben said, and started pacing back and forth. “Now, the secondary targets were both at the palace. The Council chambers,” he pointed to where the door had been hastily repaired, “and the domestic wing. Specifically, where the _Mand'alor_ ’s rooms are. Or were, I suppose.”

“So they made an educated guess based on your movements, _buir_ ,” Cody picked up the train of thought again. He and Ben went back and forth like finishing one anothers' thoughts that way was old hat to them. “They tried the clinic first, which means that they either have eyes or ears on you. Potentially both. Someone knew that was where you might be. When that didn’t pan out, they hit the next two likely places; the Council room and your suite.”

“All those civilians…” Jaster swallowed harshly.

“Two birds with one stone,” Ben said. “They hoped to cause fear and cut off the head of their most dangerous opposition at the same time.”

“It makes sense,” Chieftain Karit muttered.

“We’ll…” Jaster grimaced. “Talk about the security issues later. For now, your objections are noted. But _ad_ , it has been a very long day for you and your _vod’e_. Several battles and search and rescue efforts, and now you've spent several hours on your feet here. Let us keep watch while you rest for a while.”

They’d _almost_ managed to successfully derail him from getting them to go lay down. As diversionary tactics went, attempted assassination plots were pretty good. It still didn’t change the fact that his _ad’e_ needed some damn sleep. He also didn’t miss how the conversation had been neatly turned away from Ben’s own grim past experience. 

Clever.

“ _Buir_ ,” Cody piped up again. “We are all used to pulling seventy-two hour combat shifts.”

Jaster wanted to tear his damn hair out. Trying to get his _ad’e_ to do anything was like pulling teeth.

“One day I will find the people who trained you and…” Jaster shook his head. “Regardless. Ben. Cody. You have done us all a great honor with your efforts today, but a wise warrior knows when to conserve their strength. You _can_ work through several days with no rest, but you don’t _need_ to. This is merely the opening move of the campaign. Save your reserves for when they are more needed.”

That blessed argument seemed to garner some traction. 

Worry crossed Ben’s face and he glanced to his _vod’e_. The way he looked them over was obvious, likely seeing the same signs of weariness that Jaster had. 

Ben bowed his head to his _vod’e_. “Forgive me, I should have kept your well being in mind when I gave you your orders.”

Cody actually growled. “General, I will throw my bucket at you, I swear to the Force.”

Jaster actually had to cover his mouth to keep the snicker inside. As grim as the topics of conversation had been thus far, watching Ben and Cody tease each other or bicker never failed to amuse him.

Ben’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “We’ll save that for sparring later. In the meantime, you are all dismissed. Get some sleep. Talk to our _vod’e_ and make sure that they’re doing well. I’ll stay here with our _buir_ and draft up suggested security changes.”

Before Jaster could even comment on how that _was not happening_ , Cody beat him to the punch. He pulled off his helm and glared at Ben so hard that Jaster feared the little _jetii_ might catch fire.

“If you think I’m letting you go anywhere alone in a place that has just been bombed by insurgents, then you are out of your karking mind, General,” Cody snapped. 

“General?” Chieftain Adonai asked, raising a delicate eyebrow. He was a New Mandalorian, so he didn’t care for military of any stripe. To hear a child addressed that way by someone who casually gave him that title must have rankled.

Hells, Jaster didn’t really like it either, but at least he knew that it was a justified honor.

Jaster held up a hand before the matter could devolve further. “Ben, Cody, both of you can stay, _however_ ,” he glared at them so that they wouldn’t feel too successful, “you will be sitting, off your feet, resting, while you write down _only the most relevant_ of security improvements needed. And then you will go straight to your bunks. Crys, Longshot, Wooley, for the sake of my sanity, go get some sleep. You’ll need to help Jango ride herd on your stubborn General and equally stubborn Commander tomorrow.”

Bright giggles erupted from the three _vod’e_ being sent to bed, but they still looked to Cody, who in turn locked gazes with Ben. They stared at each other for a solid second, and then both of them nodded.

“Go,” Cody said, waving his _vod’e_ out, though he did give a lingering scowl to the _jetiise_ still standing, amused, in the center of their group.

The three _vod’e_ saluted sharply, all in perfect synchronization, along with a loud, “Sir!” Then they trotted out of the room.

“I’ve seen actual seasoned armies with less discipline then they have,” Master Windu said, staring towards the door with a faint frown.

“We’re the best,” Cody said smugly. His expression was mirrored by Ben.

Jaster shoved a datapad at Ben. “Here. Go sit.” He pointed at his own vacated chair. “You too, Cody. I’m sure the _jetiise_ will behave themselves without you standing right next to them.”

Ben sighed and Cody scowled, but they finally did as they were told.

“Yes, _buir_ ,” they both said.

While they settled themselves into Jaster’s chair, Jaster took a moment to look away and drag his hands down his face. There was more than one amused mutter audible in the room. Right that second, Jaster didn’t even care. He felt like he’d just gone two rounds with a krayt dragon.

Conversation slowly picked up again, as people remembered what they were arguing about. Much to Jaster's relief, and likely everyone else’s, as well, the _jetiise_ stayed in place, answering questions when asked of them.

“Looks like your new _ad’e_ will keep you on your toes, Mereel,” Chieftain Razi said, wandering up to stand next to him.

“They’re good kids,” Jaster said automatically. As much as they worried him and frustrated him, he was fiercely proud of his _aliit_.

“Yeah, they are. I’m glad you adopted them. It looks like they need a good home.” Chieftain Razi looked over Jaster’s shoulder to where Ben and Cody sat. “As thrilled as I am that they were around to save your skin, their birth _aliit_ failed them something fierce.”

“Yeah.” Jaster grimaced again.

Chieftain Razi nudged him, and nodded towards the boys.

Jaster turned to look. Both Ben and Cody were sound asleep, slumped into each other with the datapad that they were sharing falling out of their hands. They must have passed out the moment they relaxed for more than a minute.

They looked so damn young. Adorable, really, with how Ben’s head rested on Cody’s shoulder and Cody’s head resting on Ben’s in turn. Jaster indulged himself with a quick holo of them. He wanted to remember this fleeting moment of cuteness when they were driving him insane later. It could be useful for blackmail, too. 

Jaster turned towards the rest of the chamber and raised his hand for attention. The conversation quieted.

“Chieftains, Councilors, if you all will excuse me for a short time. I need to settle my _ad’e_ into bed. I’ll return shortly.”

Every _mando’ad_ valued _aliit_ dearly. There were far more smiles than frowns as he looked around the room. 

“Take your fierce _verd’ike_ to their rest. They deserve it,” Chieftain Karit said.

Jaster nodded respectfully to her and then to the rest of the room. There were nods in return from the _mando’ad'e_ and the _jetiise_ bowed.

“Jango.” Jaster waved his _ad_ over from where he was stationed along the wall. “Take Cody; I’ll get Ben.”

The little ones were heavy, especially in their _beskar’gam_ , but neither one even stirred when he and Jango picked them up.

“Good thing it’s a short trip to the rooms,” Jango muttered along the way, readjusting Cody in his arms to more easily carry him.

“How’d the rooms fare?” Jaster asked quietly.

“Not terrible. You’re gonna have to pick a different one until the repairs are done. Mine is salvageable, but I think I’m gonna move rooms anyways. Ben's suite and the one the _vod’e_ picked both made it out alright. Extra _verd’e_ have been posted along the hall.”

Something nagged at Jaster as he walked.

Just after the first explosion, he’d ordered Montross to send more _verd’e_ to the clinic, but none had arrived. At all. What had happened to them?

“Have you seen Montross since the attacks?” he asked.

Jango shook his head. “Now that you mention it, no.”

Jaster had an ugly suspicion. Montross was his second in command, but he wasn’t a particularly _good_ man. Loyal enough, or so Jaster had thought. Maybe a bit of a bully, but he was a good fighter and he adhered to the supercommando codex as far as Jaster knew. 

He wanted to think that this was nothing. That his second had just made a mistake, or maybe gotten caught up with something and been unable to give the order to send back up.

“As soon as we get Ben and Cody to bed, we need to find Montross. I have questions for him,” Jaster said finally. “And make sure that none of the _verd’e_ watching our rooms are in Montross’s regular group of friends. No one that you have any doubts about.”

“Yes, _buir_.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. He took Ben to the suite the _vod’e_ had claimed as well. If there was any night that he wanted all of his _ad’e_ in a nice, defensible group, it was tonight. He just hoped that would be protection enough.

Longshot was barely awake when they walked in, and he roused Crys and Wooley. Together they managed to get the armor off of Ben and Cody. Then all of the children curled up into a pile, dead to the world.

Jaster took a moment to soak in the sight. 

He nodded to Jango and they both slipped out of the room and locked it behind them. They had work yet to do.

\--


	8. Chapter 8

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

_Where? How--?_

Ben came awake slowly, and in the midst of a cluster of _Vod'e_. That was becoming a habit of theirs, he noted, wrinkling his nose and stifling a yawn.

"Go back to sleep," a familiar voice demanded imperiously from the sofa, and Ben looked over to see Helix glaring at him. Waxer and Boil were cuddled together beside him, and Jango was watching them all with amusement and relief clear to see in his expression. Their _ori'vod_ must've gone to the clinic to get the three _Vod'e_ that hadn't been present when he'd fallen asleep.

The tangle of limbs shifted around him, a distinct sensation of anxiety rising in the Force, and Ben bit down on his need to snap at their medic. Helix wouldn't take no for an answer, and raising his voice would only distress his men. "I've just spent the last eleven hours asleep," he replied, keeping his tone even and level, but sure Helix could read the irritation in his face. "That's more than I've gotten all at once in weeks."

"I'm well aware of the way you've been working yourself to the bone," Helix retorted, "and now that you have a chance to rest, by the Force I intend to make sure you take advantage of it. Do not test me, I can and will sedate you. Even if I have to use the last hypo in my field kit."

Jango backed him up immediately. "None of us is allowed to work today, me included," he said. " _Buir_ 's orders. You and Cody can finish what you were doing with the security holes, but that's all. After yesterday, we need to recover our strength. Regroup and plan, rather than just charging ahead."

Ben scowled. That wasn't the Jedi way. "I don't _need_ to plan. The Force shows me the way forward."

Cody, who'd wrapped himself around Ben in a way that was also rapidly becoming habit, from the looks of things, grumbled wordlessly in his ear, then muttered, "Shut up, General. I don't like it either, but _buir_ is right. You may not need or want to plan, but those of us without the Force _do_. And we do need to rest. Before we got stranded here, the 212th and 501st ran three back-to-back campaigns. Since then, we've been constantly on alert. No furlough or downtime."

Waxer and Boil also nodded. "Rest, General," Boil added his voice to the growing chorus. " _Morut'yc_. We've got the watch."

Giving in, Ben sighed then shifted until he could sit up without dislodging Cody. "Fine. But I want my datapad."

Jango didn't bother to say a word. He simply stood up, crossed the room to get the requested item, and returned, holding it out to him.

Ben, who'd expected a 'get it yourself' in response, stared at him for a beat, then took it carefully. "Thanks," he said, hiding his surprise as best he could.

He'd been grousing for the sake of grousing, irritated by their refusal to let him do anything useful. Not really expecting anyone to indulge his whining.

"You're welcome. Now get to it, since you insist on working on something," Jango replied. "And if you get bored afterwards, there's a pile of histories _buir_ sent you, that you can read through."

Brightening at the idea of getting to spend time on something that was both useful to him and enjoyable, Ben accepted that. "Very well. Let me know if any of the Jedi Masters wishes to speak to me."

Crys made a sound of protest, half-roused by the ongoing conversation, and Ben found himself simply reacting, soothing him back into sleep. He wasn't tired anymore, no matter what Helix thought, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to make sure his men were back up to full strength. 

Cody and _buir_ were entirely correct about that.

Settling in to work on the datapad, making separate lists of what he considered useful suggestions and what would be immediately implementable, Ben found himself enjoying the day. It was strange, not to feel the need to be somewhere two hours ago, or rush to Anakin's aid. He still missed his former padawan with an ache that refused to diminish, Ben reflected, feeling a pang go through him.

He missed Anakin with a kind of continual _awareness_ that underlaid everything he did, but every so often, when he was reminded of the lack, it hurt. Oddly, their Force bond hadn't broken -- which Ben found baffling because Anakin hadn't even been born yet, in this time, and he wouldn't be for at least ten years -- but it had gone dormant, still present but entirely inactive.

Refocusing his attention on the issue in front of him, which he could help solve, Ben started typing.

He wasn't sure how much time he'd spent on the task but once he considered it finished, he sent a copy to Cody for review -- his Commander would integrate their lists and pass the final version on to their _buir_ \-- then settled in with one of the histories. He had the leisure to read and research, for once, and he intended to enjoy it. 

When he looked up again, his attention caught by motion in his peripheral vision, Jaster was staring down at him with a look of surprised satisfaction and offering him a plate of food. Cody was wrapped firmly around him once more, though the others had gotten up and wandered off into other areas of the suite.

"Come, _ad'ike_ ," their _buir_ prodded at them verbally. "You need to eat. Whatever you're so focused on can wait for half an hour."

He was tempted to simply keep going -- he'd been making fantastic progress on the history text, which detailed the lives of the Mandalorian Crusaders, a group of Jedi hunters, and wanted to know far more about their methods than he did currently -- but he _was_ hungry.

Cody stirred, evidently more interested in food than in continuing to keep his stubborn hold on Ben, and sat up, stretching. "Hello, _buir_ ," he said, voice slightly scratchy with disuse. "Will you be joining us?"

"The rest of us are just waiting for you three to join us," Longshot called from the other room, making Jango snort and Crys laugh, "so get in here!"

"After we eat, we're going down to the training yard," Wooley put in, "if you want to tag along."

Standing, Cody caught his _Vod_ 's eyes. "You think you could stop me?"

His tone was mild, but that was an unmistakable dare.

No one took him up on it. Wisely.

Cody's lips twitched upward in a smirk, and he nodded, satisfied. "Thought not."

Ben got to his feet as well, and accepted the plate his _buir_ was still offering him, carrying it to the table. Cody followed him, a step behind him and to his right, as always, and Jaster took up a position behind them both until they were seated. As though to keep them from escaping.

Their meal was excellent, but Ben found he barely tasted it, still mulling over that history. If he could work out how they'd hunted and tracked the Jedi he could--

"Ben," Jaster broke into his thoughts, "is everything alright? You're very quiet."

"I'm fine, _buir_. Just distracted. That history you lent me about the Crusaders... it's a fascinating topic. Are there any more such texts in your library? In fact, where _is_ your library? I'll happily go look for them myself."

Jaster raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "If you say so, _ad_. I found it rather dry. And if the library interests you, by all means. Jango can show you where it is after we finish our meal."

"Well," Longshot commented, "one of us better go with them, Commander, so we know where to look for the General, if -- no, _when_ he vanishes into the archives."

Ben didn't bother denying it. Libraries were amazing places, and he'd happily have spent his entire apprenticeship in the Temple Archives with Master Nu, if he could have. "None of you has any appreciation for the finer things in life," he said archly. "I'll have you know that the only reason I'm so effective a leader is that I _know many things_. Which wouldn't be possible if I didn't spend time in libraries."

Cody shrugged. "We know many things too, General. And we learned them without having to spend years paging through dusty racks of data chips."

Jango grinned at Cody, and Jaster nodded approvingly.

It seemed he was fated to forever be surrounded by uncultured heathens. Ben sighed. "Believe what you will," he said magnanimously, then went back to clearing his plate.

Wooley was the next to speak, breaking the silence that fell over the table. "Have you decided what to do to adjust your armour, General?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Ben considered him, and then the question and the way in which it had been asked. It didn't bother him, somewhat to his own surprise. "I'd thought I'd ask Ardanna about it before making any decisions that are difficult to take back," he answered after a beat. "But I want to get rid of the backplate and the codpiece. Both restrict my movement more than I can tolerate, when I'm trying to dodge or use my 'sabre effectively."

Jaster gave him an amused look. "I agree. You'll definitely need to talk that kind of major change over with Ardanna. But if you can suggest a good alternative, I think she'd be up to the challenge. She was very impressed with you yesterday."

Ben saw Cody nod thoughtfully. "Armourweave might not be a bad choice for a replacement panel," he suggested.

Ben could see the merit in the idea. The material was relatively light, flexible, and could be cut into any shape he wanted, in addition to being blaster resistant and having a limited ability to stop lightsabre attacks.

"That is worth considering," he agreed, pleased that Cody wasn't going to fight him on making the armour he was forced to wear lighter and better suited to his style. He smiled. "I might have her get me a cloak out of the same material, as well."

Helix caught Cody's eyes. "Wasn't there some fancy kind of armourweave that was developed about now?" He asked idly. 

Jango shrugged, not batting an eye at the strange phrasing that Ben could tell their _buir_ had noticed. "If there's something new on the market, I haven't heard about it, and that's the sort of thing that could mean the difference between life and death to a bounty hunter."

"No matter. I'm sure it will work out," Ben waved that off. "Is Ardanna likely to be available now?"

"You can try," Jaster replied, apparently willing to consider that acceptable despite issuing orders about 'not working'. "I don't know her schedule."

"If you'll excuse me, then?" Ben stood.

His _buir_ gave him an amused look. "Go ahead, Ben."

The _Vod'e_ were reluctant to let him out of their sight -- Ben could feel it -- but they didn't openly protest. "If you're not on the training yard with us in an hour, I'm coming to look for you," Helix warned him. "After being stuck in here all day, you need a workout just as badly as we do, and we all know what happens when you start getting short-tempered."

Their medic had apparently found a way to voice what the _Vod'e_ were all feeling in a way Ben couldn't protest without sounding like a liar.

"I could stand to stretch my legs a bit," he agreed, suddenly feeling the need to move and run and Force jump, to practice and train with his men in a way they hadn't really been able to spare the time for since they'd gotten dumped in the past. "But first I need to see what Ardanna has on hand to offer me. It won't do any of us any good if I spend days or weeks trying to train with you in equipment that handicaps me; all that will do is annoy all of us."

With that, he gave the lot of them a polite nod and deposited his dirty plate and utensils in their proper places as he left the room, his mind already back on the problem of what to do about his armour as he donned it again, clipping his lightsabre to his belt before he put his bucket on his head and let himself out of the suite. Wearing the armour was already beginning to feel much more natural and comfortable, which was just odd to think about, but the level of protection it offered was worth a little bit of awkwardness, he had to admit. Being able to hide his expression behind his bucket was of great value, in and of itself.

But he needed to find a way to adapt the armour to his fighting style. Without being able to move the way he was used to, he would be at a distinct disadvantage, and there was no way he was going to trade in his lightsabre for a blaster. So uncivilised. 

Cody's suggestion of using armourweave was an excellent one. He really should have thought of it himself. His robes -- the ones he'd fought in during the Clone Wars -- had had a similar kind of defense built into them, though it wasn't quite the same.

Some strategic reinforcement of the stocking that went under his armour would probably suffice, Ben decided. And perhaps a cape like the one he'd seen Jango wearing. He missed his cloak -- almost more than his tunic and tabards -- but an armourweave cape would be a reasonable approximation, and not mark him out as all too different, among the _mando'ad'e_. Simply carrying his 'sabre was bad enough, in that regard.

Having made his decision on what he wanted to pitch to Ardanna, Ben nodded to himself. 

Once he'd discussed things with Ardanna, he was going to take Helix's advice. It would be good to run drills with his men. A physical release that the lot of them hadn't had in far longer than usual. If you counted the time spent on those back-to-back campaigns Cody had pointed out, it had been something like two and a half months.

Now that he thought about it, it was hardly surprising that the _Vod'e_ were missing that badly enough to ask him for it. And he found he'd missed it himself, though he hadn't been conscious of that until his men had suggested it to him.

As an added bonus, he smirked, the eight of them could show off to their _buir_ and Jango. They'd all fought well during the skirmishes at the palace and the clinic, but that wasn't all they could do by a long shot.

The doorway of the armoury stood open, the space quiet but for a couple of low voices that he could hear. Ben was fairly sure he recognised Ardanna and Mira.

Stepping through the door and waiting there, his bucket tucked under his forearm -- having it there was much more comfortable than it had been at the start -- Ben waited, as he'd seen Cody do.

Ardanna and Mira both looked over at him almost immediately and smiled broadly.

"Ben Kenobi," Ardanna greeted him. "What can I do for you, little General?"

"I've come to some preliminary decisions on how I'd like to adjust my armour to suit me," he told her, trying not to react to the nickname she'd given him, and watched her smile take on a very pleased edge. "But I'd like to discuss them with you first, if you've some spare time?"

Ardanna scoffed. "No _mando'ad_ worth the name would refuse you some time, little General. You risked your life in defense of the _Mand'alor_ , and very nearly successfully fought a seasoned veteran like Tor Vizsla to a standstill. You led your _vod'e_ in a daring and very effective counterstrike that allowed us to kick the Death Watch back out of our palace. And then pulled off a miracle and got the council of clans to stop arguing with each other long enough to listen to you."

"I-- well..." Ben fought not to protest. He hadn't done anything all that special? Just pointed out the obvious? Sure, he'd been a bit heavy-handed about letting anyone else speak, but...

"Besides," Mira added, interrupting his stammering firmly, "armour is our lifesblood. We'd have been offended, had you gone to anyone else to ask about this. What is it you'd like to do?"

Taking a breath, back on firmer conversational ground and relieved to be there, Ben happily let her change the subject and laid out what he wanted and his proposed solution. Ardanna looked thoughtful when he finished.

"Armourweave on its own is no true substitute for beskar or even any of the less expensive alloys we use, such as the one you're wearing," she said. "If flexibility is your main complaint that will cause some larger scale adjustments beyond the ones you've mentioned, as well. A segmented chestplate may be required, along with boots that provide slightly less rigid support for your ankles. The standard issue ones are designed the way they are to prevent injuries in our _verd'e_ when they use their jetpacks, but you won't have that problem, will you..." Ardanna paused for a beat, looking off into the middle distance as she let her sentence trail off. It was clear she wasn't finished speaking her mind yet, though. A moment later, she turned to her assistant and picked up the thread again, adding, "On the other hand, a cape is easy. We have several of them in the storage room. Mira, please get him one. I will consider your request, little General, and let you know what options I can create for you. Come back tomorrow before the evening meal, and I will have a few ideas to discuss and a few small-scale prototypes for you to test."

Ben offered her a shallow bow. "Thank you, Ardanna," he said simply. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

"So do I," she grinned at him. "This is a far more interesting challenge than most of the commissions I get, these days."

And that, it seemed, was that. Ardanna stood and moved to her drafting table, starting to lay out ideas with the air of an artist inspired, and Mira watched her master with a pleased expression for a moment before she moved without a word to get the requested cape, in a lovely shade of dark green that made Ben think of the forests on Korda VI where they'd first stumbled across Jaster and Jango, what already felt like years ago. When she returned with it, she showed him how and where to attach it to his pauldrons then gave him a wink. "It suits you, little General," she said, and chuckled at the way Ben couldn't quite bite back the sigh at the nickname that seemed like it would stick.

"Thank you, Mira," he answered, wrapping himself in the cape and the tattered remains of his dignity. "Is there anything specific I need to know with regard to how to care for it?"

"Regularly clean it with a rag and a gentle soap. It's hard wearing, so it won't tear or damage easily, but you also don't want it getting dingy," she told him.

"Right. I'll keep that in mind," Ben acknowledged the advice, then took his leave, putting his Bucket back on and heading towards the training yard, at the back of the palace and letting his thoughts wander. 

If he risked shaming his _buir_ by not wearing armour and thus not following the Resol'nare to the fullest, not taking good care of said armour would likely have much the same effect, after all. And he'd always been fastidious about his appearance. Far moreso than his own Master or Anakin had been.

The thought made him wince.

Anakin. And Master Qui-Gon. Both were sore points for him right now, and he suspected Master Dooku had sensed at least a little of his discomfort at having Master Qui-Gon on-planet. Seeing Master Qui-Gon again -- alive and in good health -- had been a shock Ben hadn't strictly been prepared for, and it must have shown at least a little bit. He wasn't sure whether Mace had noticed it. His fellow Councilor was difficult to read at the best of times, and this far in the past, Mace felt like a different person. Sure, his Force signature was still the same one Ben recalled -- as was Master Qui-Gon's -- but he seemed to be far less cynical about the galaxy at large. And the _Vod'e_ had very effectively distracted the three visiting Jedi from the topic, in the end, to Ben's mingled amusement and frustration. The comments the four of them had made about Master Plo and Mace, himself, had immediately garnered sharply focused attention.

Shoving those thoughts aside to meditate on later, Ben shook his head to clear it.

He would need to come to terms with having his old Master here, certainly, but he could work on that in the morning. For the moment, he needed to recenter himself and -- somewhat to his own surprise -- over the last few months sparring with his men had become one of the easiest ways for him to do so. He could allow himself to sink into the Force, to react, to stop thinking and worrying for a little while, even as he honed his own skills and his officers'. To trust in his Commander and the 212th to keep him safe, even as he did the same for them. To let the activity burn off some of the constant stress and tension he found himself under, as the Jedi High General in command of the Third Systems Army.

As he reached the doors that led to the training yard, Ben let himself smile, anticipation starting to build in him. 

The _Vod'e_ all looked over the moment he stepped into view, and Ben was pleased at the way they watched him, easily able to tell they were admiring the figure he cut despite the buckets they wore. "I think the cape is a nice addition," Ben told them with a grin. "Don't you?"

Cody cleared his throat. "You wear it better than Jango, sir," he replied, making Ben chuckle.

"You're lucky he wasn't around to hear you say that," Ben shot back, then crossed the open space of the yard to join them properly. "The alternative armour pieces I had in mind weren't on hand," he reported, sure they'd already worked that out simply based on his appearance, "so I'm going to warm up with some katas, and then I think some blaster practice is in order."

The _Vod'e_ exchanged looks and Ben could feel their rising glee. They knew just as well as Ben did that the visiting Jedi were housed in the central building, roughly above the council chambers, as all visiting diplomats were. The three masters would have a perfect view of their practice, should they happen to be looking out their window, and the _Vod'e_ did love to show off just how lethal they could be.

"Sounds good to me, General," Waxer agreed, prompting the rest of them to nod. "Go ahead and get warmed up. We'll find something to do in the meantime."

Taking them at their word, Ben nodded and picked out a clear area in the open ground at the southwestern corner of the training yard, near the corner of the central building of the palace, in which to do his katas.

He started out slowly, working most of the tension out of his legs and shoulders and enjoying the way his new cape swished satisfyingly around him. Having one was such a relief, after being forced to go without his robes for a week. It wasn't the same -- not even nearly -- but it was a good enough approximation for him to work with. And he didn't even have to remove it to fight, which was lovely.

Once he was limbered up, he started slowly moving through the slashes and blocks of each of the seven forms that he could do with a single weapon, taking his time to get them all exactly right, and then repeating the movements, faster. Then again, faster still. Over and over until he was moving at his full speed, his eyes closed and his feet sure, his movements guided by the Force and his 'sabre humming as it cut through the air.

When he stopped, his stillness almost abrupt after his warm up, Ben had his 'sabre held vertically in front of him, a smile on his face.

Relaxing into a ready stance, then walking back over to his men, he watched them all gather around him without even needing a cue, blasters readied and their stances open.

A moment of stillness reigned, and then the _Vod'e_ exploded into movement, in that way Ben had only ever seen clone troopers or Jedi do, aware of one another, and each of them aware of the movements the others were likely to make.

The seven men of the 212th scattered, and Ben immersed himself in the Force, again, his 'sabre held at the ready, poised.

Boil fired the first shot, and Ben felt it streaking toward him, as though it was in slow motion. He deflected it easily, sending it at the centermost target of the shooting range and knowing it would strike the bullseye without having to look.

After that, the shots came at him in rapid succession, and he sent each one at a random target down range without thinking about it, the way he could when he was fighting and not trying to strategise at the same time. The rhythm of it lulled Ben. He felt himself relaxing even further, the simple act of letting his blade whirl around him, effortlessly deflecting every shot and the Force his only direction, allowing him to sink into that calm place where he didn't have to do more than let his body move.

He had no idea how much time had passed when the half-familiar Force signature he associated with Master Dooku appeared on the edges of his awareness. He didn't have time to puzzle over that, though, as his men stepped up the pace, and began adding aerial elements to the mix, taking advantage of the jetpacks in their armour to fling shots at him from above, as well. That was an exercise they didn't do often, aboard the _Negotiator_.

The 212th had access to jetpacks, if they needed them for a mission, and all clone troopers were trained in their use, but access to them was generally quite strictly regulated and reserved for the GAR's search-and-rescue teams, so Ghost Company didn't get to play with them often.

"Enjoying yourself, Commander?" He joked as Cody soared over his head in a showy forward flip, knowing full well that all of them took every chance they could to train with their jetpacks, taking a pleasure in it that they didn't in other aspects of their practice.

Rather than reply verbally, though Ben could feel their amusement in the Force, the _Vod'e_ increased the frequency of their attacks, stepping up the difficulty. Stretching his senses out a little further, feeling himself fall into an almost meditative state of mind, Ben noted distantly that their audience was far larger than just Master Dooku, Jango and _buir_.

The adjustment to blocking the additional angles of fire was automatic on his part, though. He didn't have to think about it, just act. The Force guided his movements, allowing him to predict and react and not have to so much as turn his head to follow his men.

At the increased intensity of the attacks a murmur went up from the assembled off-duty _verd'e_ that had emerged from the barracks adjacent to the training yard to watch them practice. Master Dooku's focus on him also seemed to sharpen, and Ben thought he felt intrigued.

Jango gave the impression of a man biting at his lip and debating the merits of taking a risk. "Not going to come join the fun, _ori'vod_?" Ben taunted him, fully confident in himself and his men. "Come show us how good you are with that blaster of yours."

Straightening as if stung and unable to say no, given their audience, Jango snarled something uncomplimentary under his breath about overconfidence and took the dare. He dove into the fight, his attacks a bit tentative until he got a feel for how the _Vod'e_ moved, and then he joined in the barrage of shots that were battering uselessly at Ben's defenses.

 _Buir_ was watching them with a longing that said he dearly wanted to take part, himself, and Ben couldn't help the laughter that felt like it bubbled up out of the pit of his stomach, pleased by the implied compliment to his skills.

Feeling a grin that was all teeth tug at his lips, Ben decided he wasn't about to simply let his _Vod'e_ have all the fun of showing off. "Is that all you lot have got?" He challenged them, and felt their glee and amusement spike, the feeling swelling like a wave around him. "Come on, give me something to sink my teeth into!"

The shots began flying at him in coordinated salvos of three and four shots, then, and while he couldn't send all of them at the targets on the shooting range any longer, deflecting them all was still fairly straightforward.

None of them could keep up that pace for long, though.

While it was definitely impressive to see from the outside -- they'd done this for visiting senators once in a while because Anakin was so close to Padmé, who sometimes brought along her friends; Bail had been particularly impressed -- it took quite a lot out of all of them, both physically and mentally. 

Ben let himself fight all out, until he knew he could go no farther.

He stepped back into a simple guard position, feeling the kyber crystals in his 'sabre hum contentedly at him, and let himself smile. The _Vod'e_ all knew that signal. They stopped firing without needing a verbal command to let them know Ben was done, and Jango was quick enough on his feet to pick up on the cue.

A wave of cheers and applause rose up from the assembled _verd'e_ and Ben offered them a bow in return, saluting them with his 'sabre and then offering one to the _Vod'e_ as well, sure that tales and no few holos of this demonstration would be _everywhere_ before the end of the rotation.

Master Dooku approached them as the _Vod'e_ leaned tiredly against one another, laughing as they came down from the slight haze of euphoria that this kind of practice always gave them and tried not to let themselves give in to the urge to sit down.

They always had been proud of their prowess and hated showing weakness, Ben reflected, as he deactivated his 'sabre and clipped it back to his belt. He turned to greet the Jedi. "Master Dooku," he bowed to the Jedi, too, still trying to regulate his own breathing. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"We did, indeed, youngling," the master replied, his voice a low thoughtful rumble, "and I must ask that you show me how you did that, once your evaluation is finished and we have time for such exchanges of knowledge."

' _We_ did'?

Ben glanced over toward his _buir_ , and realised that Masters Windu and Jinn had joined the assembled crowds of spectators, too. "I'm certain something to that effect could be arranged," he agreed.

"And your young _vod'e_ must join us," Master Dooku added, "for I will need opponents familiar with the technique to practice against."

There was a brief lull in their conversation, and Ben could sense that Master Dooku was considering his next words carefully. "You trust your _vod'e_ implicitly," he eventually said bluntly. "That is crucial to your success, and worthy of the admiration it gains you from this warrior people."

Not sure where the Master was going with that, Ben simply waited.

Master Dooku simply nodded, rather than adding anything further. "Rest well, young Ben, for your evaluation will likely begin after the first meal of the rotation."

They exchanged another polite bow, and then Master Dooku turned and efficiently gathered up the other two Jedi Masters as he departed the training yard.

Jango stepped up beside Ben as they watched him leave. "If that's what all Jedi Masters are like, I'm not surprised you're as cryptic as you are," he commented.

Ben huffed at him, mock offended. "In this time and place, I'm no Jedi Master," he pointed out, "for all that I have the requisite skills."

"A Jedi Master in all but name, then," Jaster put in as he approached them. "Come, _ad'e_ , you leave the field victorious, and it is time you got some well-deserved rest. Ben, Cody, the security team was very impressed with your work."

Cody straightened his shoulders, and nodded. "I'm glad to hear it, _buir_ , but the General did most of it."

"Nonsense," Ben disputed that immediately, and followed automatically when their _buir_ started to walk toward the doors leading into the central building of the palace. "You did just as much as I did."

Jango snorted, amused. "Alright, enough mutual ego stroking. I need to go hit the 'fresher, and I'm sure the rest of you do, too."

"Right," Jaster agreed as they started down the corridor that led to their suites. "Go clean up, _ad'e_. And don't even think about trying to sneak back out for another round of practice. The Jedi Masters are insisting on starting Ben's evaluation soon, so that they can try to get it finished while the council debates Ben's suggested course of action."

Helix straightened into a pose that would have been a salute, had he been standing still. "Don't worry, _buir_ ," he said, as though accepting orders. "I'll make sure they rest."

Ben bit down on a groan. Helix hadn't been joking about sedating him, and he knew it. And with the _Vod'e_ formed up around him again, as they were, he couldn't easily escape to his own suite. They'd let him, if he insisted, sure, but they were stubbornly herding him back into their suite again.

Deciding it wasn't worth the effort of resisting right then -- he was probably allowing himself to enjoy being close to Cody and his men rather more than he should, but he also didn't regret it -- Ben let his seven men maneuver him into their suite, and then pointedly deposit him right outside the door to one of their two 'freshers.

Shaking his head at their silent commentary, Ben took them up on their offer to let him go first, stripping off his armour and stacking it neatly beside the 'fresher door, then peeling off the body stocking beneath without hesitation before he ventured inside the small room to clean himself up. 

Cody was waiting for him with a pair of loose leggings when he stepped back out. "Here, General. Helix brought you your terrible excuse for sleep clothes," he said as he offered them to Ben.

"They're comfortable," Ben retorted, "and it's better than sleeping in blacks, the way you lot tend to do."

Laughing at him, Cody, who'd apparently taken advantage of the privileges of rank to claim the first go at the other 'fresher, tugged him over to the cozy nest of blankets that Ben had known awaited him. "Those are just as comfortable, once you're used to them," his Commander pointed out, unruffled, and prodded at him until he settled near the center of the soft surface. He shoved a glass of water at Ben before joining him and making sure he was tucked in close, again. 

"Is the cuddling going to become a thing?" Ben asked him, bemused.

"You don't like it?" Cody parried, sure of his welcome and willing to press the issue.

"I suppose I'll live," Ben shot right back. "Can't have my men emotionally compromised because they miss me."

"Now that's the first sensible thing I've heard you say in days, General," Helix commented, pulling his shirt on as he joined them, stretching out next to Cody and shifting until he was comfortable.

Ben ignored him, making him chuckle knowingly, and the room fell silent. The remaining _Vod'e_ quietly joined them as well, one by one, until Ben was carefully pinned in the middle of the pile. They would shift and separate slightly in their sleep, Ben knew, leaving one another breathing room, but staying close. They had every time they'd dragged him in, so far. But the _Vod'e_ always made sure they fell asleep touching as many of their brothers as they could manage.

Closing his eyes, Ben tried to do as Helix had demanded.

The medic truly wasn't wrong. He'd need what energy he could scrape up, when the Masters came for him and tested him. They were sure to push him to the limits of his stamina, trying to find out exactly what he could and couldn't do.

But, at first sleep was elusive. It took him a few tries to clear his mind enough to drift off. 

As soon as his mind quieted, Ben felt himself settle into a deep, exhausted sleep. 

_He sat huddled. He was tired. Sore. Hurt. His skin was gritty with the accumulated dirt that came from weeks without a proper chance to bathe._

_He, they, were in a flop house. Or maybe an alley. Or a rooftop. He couldn't quite tell. All he knew was that it was familiar. He'd been here before._

_Cerasi was there. Beautiful, bright Cerasi. Obi-Wan had thought he loved her, once. It was she who had convinced him to stay on Melida/Daan._

_He remembered. This is where she died, bleeding out in his arms._

_"Don't mourn too long for me," she choked out through bloodstained lips. "After all, I wanted peace." Another cough, and her face turned the color of paste. "Look at it this way, now I have it forever..."_

_She felt so small in his arms. The pain of her passing melded with the echoes of grief and suffering all around them. The attack was still ongoing, and the sound of blasterfire filled the air._

_Tears poured hot down Obi-Wan's cheeks as he shoved Cerasi's lolling head under his chin and held her close. He'd felt her death in the Force. There was nothing left of her but her cooling body._

_He wished Master Qui-Gon was there. Their training bond was an aching void in his mind, a scarred, withered stump instead of the lifeline of support and affection that it should have been, if he'd only been better. He wished he hadn't failed so spectacularly. As a padawan, as a fighter._

_The fighting around him spread, stretching out across the galaxy. He couldn't see it, but he felt it around him. The Force turned dark and difficult to work with. Obi-Wan struggled to stay afloat, clinging with tooth and nail to his sanity._

_He felt so small. The war around him was a monster, and one that he was somehow responsible to tame. The body in his arms grew colder still._

_Ben rubbed his face against Cerasi's hair. But he only felt the soft velvet prickle of hair shorn close to the scalp._

_He looked down. It wasn't Cerasi's body in his arms, it was Cody’s. The less scarred child version of him, made younger to match Ben's age. His eyes were half open and sightless and blood dribbled down out of his mouth._

_Ben swallowed down his rising panic. His mind stuck in an endless loop of Cody-Cody-Cody. He clutched at Cody's_ beskar'gam _and quickly looked around them._ Vod'e _were fighting and dying all around him, each of them no older than Cody and dressed in scaled down versions of their plastoid armor. Some were blank shinies, new to the front, and others were painted with the markings of friends. All of them were dying in droves._

 _He couldn't stop it. He tried to shout orders, to bring some kind of sanity to the swirl of battle around him. He was responsible. Again. And he was failing. Again._

_Qui-Gon was gone. Anakin was gone. Cerasi, Taria, Siri, Satine, Cody. All gone, all dead because he wasn't good enough. Because he wasn't worthy of the trust that they'd placed in him._

_Ben was all alone._

_He clutched Cody's corpse, wishing that it wasn't so._

_As his hand curled around Cody's skull, he felt something. A bump under the skin._

_The chip._

_They were chipped. Enslaved, as he'd been enslaved before. He remembered the feel of a bomb collar around his neck and the cutting numbness of Force inhibitor cuffs on his wrists._

_Sith-hells, they were all chipped. All of his Vod'e, and he couldn't save them. They were all going to die and he. Could. Not. Save. Them._

The scream did its best to claw its way out of Ben's throat and he only just managed to keep it in.

Sitting bolt upright and fighting to keep his breathing even, Ben felt the tears pricking at his eyes. It felt like there was no air in the room and he needed to pace, to _move_.

Carefully picking his way out of the pile of sleeping _Vod'e_ , Ben ghosted as quietly as he could manage into the adjacent room. He tried to calm himself down, tried his usual breathing exercises, tried to remind himself of the facts of who and what and _where_ he was.

It didn't work.

Frustrated at his own inability to recover his composure, and still feeling the need for open air, Ben made an impulsive decision he knew Cody would yell at him about later.

He opened the window of the third floor room and slipped out, jumping down and using the Force to take his impact with the ground, then ran for the simple sake of running. He needed to not think. To do something with his body to get his mind off the horrible images that his subconscious had flung at him.

After an indeterminate span of time that could have been two minutes or two hours, he found himself back on the training yard, his thoughts still tangled up in themselves, and laughed bitterly, the sound low and mocking in his own ears.

"You never did know how to avoid fighting a losing battle," he said to himself, "you've never been good enough, and likely never will be."

"Whoever told you that was a dirty liar, _ad'ika_ ," Jaster's voice cut sharply through the air, startling him into very nearly attacking his _buir_ , who'd evidently successfully snuck up on him in his distraction, though he'd wisely waited until Ben knew he was there to approach more closely.

"No one told me that, _buir_ ," Ben replied solemnly, letting the spike of adrenaline he'd felt subside again and feeling the way it left his hands shaking ever so slightly, "but it's true nevertheless."

"So you decided that for yourself?" Jaster asked him simply, carefully stepping in close and putting a hand on Ben's still-bare shoulder. "Why?"

Ben unsuccessfully fought the shudder that the touch sent through him. He didn't think anyone had ever bothered to offer to listen to his fears before. And physical comfort? He hadn't had that in years, no, decades, before he and his seven _Vod'e_ had accidentally landed here in the past.

"I've failed everyone who's ever been important to me," Ben replied after the silence had stretched out for a while. He looked up at his _buir_. "And far too many of them paid for those failures with their lives."

Even as he said them, he could feel the heavy words fall onto his shoulders, a boulder he needed to carry along with him until he finally rejoined the Force after his death, and fought half-successfully not to let his back bow under the weight. Closing his eyes briefly, Ben forced his spine straight again. He couldn't give in, couldn't let their deaths be in vain. He had to make up for those losses somehow.

When he looked up again, Ben could see his _buir_ consider and then discard several responses.

"I do not know how you _jetiise_ honour your dead," Jaster said eventually. "We _mando'ad'e_ believe that, as long as our dead are remembered, they live on in us. _Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_."

_I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal._

His _Vod'e_ took part in that ritual, themselves. Ben nodded, supplying the second half of it. " _Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_.” _Not gone, merely marching far away._ “I'm familiar with the practice. My men take part in it, though it's a very private thing for them and I've yet to witness it in person. It's little consolation, however, when those marching far away are doing so because they counted on you to keep them alive."

"How do you know?" His _buir_ asked him.

"I don't follow." Ben gave him a baffled look.

"How do you know they were counting on you to keep them alive? Did they explicitly ask you to? Surely, if what they were doing was risky enough to potentially result in their deaths, they must have known the risks they were taking," Jaster expanded on his thought somewhat, then reached out to pull him into a hug.

Surprised, Ben stiffened. Then the feeling of strong supporting arms around him broke the last of his will to keep fighting this battle alone and he clung to his _buir_ with all his strength, the tears he'd fought earlier rising back up and choking him before they escaped in a series of harsh sobs.

When the storm inside him eventually subsided, leaving him feeling hollowed out and exhausted, his _buir_ finally spoke again. " _Ad_ ," he said quietly, "I don't believe any of the loved ones you've lost would have ever thought of you as a failure. You are strong, honourable, smart, and a fierce warrior. And if they did think that, they were wrong."

Remembering his old master and the pressure he'd been under to do well, Ben scoffed.

Before he could speak, his _buir_ went on. "No. No arguments. No single warrior, not even a _jetii_ , is all-powerful enough to triumph every time, to win every battle. If you _failed_ ," Ben heard the very sarcastic emphasis on the word, "it is the fault of those who expected you to somehow beat all the odds without support. I have not known you long, it's true, but I know you, Ben. I know the pressure on you put on yourself to succeed, and the harshness of your own opinion of yourself." Jaster's arms tightened around him in a comforting squeeze. "You sacrifice for the sake of everyone around you and it's a struggle to get you to accept anything offered in return, even from those _vod'e_ you appeared with, despite the way you obviously trust them with every part of yourself. You saved me and Jango on Korda VI, and then again at the clinic and a third time right here in the palace. And then threw yourself into doing your level best to ensure it couldn't happen a fourth time. I don't kriffing care what anyone else thinks, _ad'ika_ , including you. Those are not the actions of someone who isn't good enough. You may have been found wanting by others, but to me? To your _vod'e_? You are _far more_ than kriffing _good enough_."

Speechless, Ben simply hid his face in his _buir_ 's shirt.

Warm hands ran soothingly up and down the length of his spine. "You were a credit to your Order in your own time, Ben," he said, "but somehow they put you in the position of being a lone sentinel forced to hold back the night with the power of your will alone. And they did it for long enough that it became habit to feel you couldn't rely on anyone to help. The mere fact that you kriffing well _succeeded_ for as long as you did is astonishing. But those days are over, _ad_. I cannot and _will not_ allow that to happen on my watch. You are _mando'ad_ now, not simply _jetii_ , and we take care of our own."

Somehow, that last sentence echoed in him, through him, and Ben found himself feeling like he was shattering apart. Without really meaning to, he was choking out the story of his dream and the bare bones of all his other failures. It was like a dam had burst, and he couldn't stop the torrent of words.

All his _buir_ did was listen, holding his peace and waiting him out, though Ben could tell he wanted to protest more than once.

And then, once he'd poured everything out, Ben let himself relax into his _buir_ 's hold.

"I won't let you join them, _buir_ ," he said, knowing that the quiet words would probably not reassure Jaster one bit, but needing to voice them all the same.

Ben let his eyes close with a sigh, intending to reopen them to get himself back to his _Vod'e_ \-- Cody was probably frantic by now, he knew.

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Jaster had just managed to almost drift off to sleep after a ridiculously late night in the council room when his comm went off.

He groaned and debated throwing the damn thing into the wall. The impulse only lasted half a second. If someone was trying to reach him now at this forsaken time of night, then it had to be important.

It was Cody.

A jolt of pure alarm raced through him.

“Mereel,” he answered out of habit, sitting upright in bed.

“ _Buir_.” Cody’s voice was thick with worry. “Ben had a nightmare. He left the room, jumped out the window. He didn’t even take his ‘sabre.”

Jaster swore and started pulling on his clothes.

“I can go look for him. Any ideas where you think he’ll go?”

There was a short pause.

“When he had nightmares on our flagship, we’d find him in the sparring rooms. Usually. Sometimes on the observation deck. Since I don’t think we’ve seen anything like the _Negotiator_ ’s observation deck here, maybe check the training yard?”

“Huh.” Jaster thought over his response while buckling his belt and blaster holster on. No sense in wandering around unarmed. “So this happens often?”

“We are men at war, _buir_. We all get nightmares. The _Vod’e_ have each other, but _jetiise_... Ben. He won’t let us help.” Cody sounded immeasurably sad. 

_So he thinks maybe I can, then, huh?_

The more Jaster heard about _jetiise_ and their whole ‘lack of attachment’ bullshit, the less he liked it. Assuming that’s what this was about, anyways. It was hard to tell if this was a _jetiise_ thing, or just Ben.

“I’ll find him,” Jaster promised. 

“We’ll wait in the room. He… wouldn’t appreciate us retrieving him. Cody out.”

Jaster gave one last longing look at his bed and then shook his head. His _ad_ needed him. He’d just drink some extra caff in the morning.

On his way out of the _Mand'alor_ ’s wing, he stopped to talk to his _verd’e_ standing guard, and let them know that he’d be out taking a walk and that they should keep an eye out for wandering younglings. He wanted to be notified if anything at all happened. Chances were slim that Ben would get back before he did, but better safe than sorry. Especially after the attacks earlier that day.

As he hustled down to the training yard, he thought about Cody’s words. Ben was a general. He had a flagship, which implied that he was in control of more than just one ship. The ship itself was called _Negotiator_. Jaster had a sinking feeling he knew how that ship had gotten its name.

It was a disturbing fact that nightmares bad enough to cause Ben to jump out a window and go wandering around were a frequent thing. Maybe he should have expected it. Being involved in several bombings and pitched battles would be a thing that would give any sane, healthy child nightmares for months. Ben acted so calm, so competent, that it was easy to forget that he might be disturbed by what had happened.

Add that onto what Ben revealed about himself in the council session… It made Jaster worry. It made him angry. 

Sure enough, when Jaster got to the training yard, there was Ben, standing in the middle of the vast empty space, staring into the middle distance and dressed only in his sleep pants. He didn’t even have any socks on. 

Jaster’s first instinct was to go give Ben a hug. Given Ben’s combat reflexes he knew that would be just asking to get punched in the groin.

Instead he waited Ben out. 

When Ben finally spoke, Jaster did his best to give him words of comfort. As soon as he was able, he wrapped the shivering boy up in his arms and hugged the hell out of him. Ben seemed almost shocked at that. Like no one had ever done that for him.

Jaster kept a lid on his anger and his sorrow. Ben didn’t need that from him. What he needed was someone to care for him. To care _about_ him. It seemed there was precious little of that in Ben’s life.

It turned out, that was the right move, because, slowly but surely, Ben opened up. The words came out in a strangled rush. Much of it was mixed up and a great deal of it was so basic that Jaster only got the general idea of the situations that Ben touched on.

The things that Ben told him were more than just nightmares. Most were memories; a long list of loved ones who’d died, often right in his arms. Each carried the certain knowledge that he was alone and undeserving of the help that he so desperately needed. Wrapped in those hellish memories was the fear that he would fail everyone else as well. That in the end, nothing he did would ever stop his endless loss.

Jaster made a mental note to ask Cody if there was anyone in the future that Ben was connected to. Friends. Lovers, maybe. Clearly, Ben was passionate about his duty and cared deeply for the _vod’e_. But for all that, he seemed so very solitary. Was everyone his _ad_ loved already dead?

Hells, no wonder Ben didn’t want to risk asking Cody to be his _riduur_. Not only were the karking _jetiise_ crazy about ‘attachment’, but Ben seemed to think that everyone he got close to would die, and, worse, that it would be his fault.

Every time Ben talked about how it was reasonable, justifiable even, when he was abandoned without love or affection or support, Jaster had to damn near sew his mouth shut to keep from growling out denials. 

It was better that Ben talk it out. So Jaster let him. It seemed unlikely that Ben often allowed himself the small comfort of having someone to cry with. 

Jaster’s heart ached. His poor _ad_. 

Eventually the words ran out, though he knew there had to be more. But Ben was exhausted and trembling in his arms. 

"I won't let you join them, _buir_ ," Ben said softly. 

All of Ben’s dedication, the skill and the willpower and the fierce determination to _help_ was suddenly focused on Jaster. Emotion swelled up tight in Jaster’s chest. His eyes stung and his throat hurt. 

His _ad_ was such a good boy, and the karking idiots who’d had care of him before were the stupidest assholes in the galaxy for wasting the precious gift of Ben’s regard. 

If Jaster ever found out who Ben’s old master was, he was going to beat the man bloody. 

They stayed together, holding each other close until Ben’s tears tapered off and he lay against Jaster’s chest, three-quarters of the way asleep. Little bodies weren’t meant to take such stress, and Ben had clearly long since hit his limit.

For the second time in as many days, Jaster scooped up Ben into his arms, with Ben’s head pillowed on his shoulder and skinny legs loosely wrapped around his waist. 

Jaster was terribly grateful that Cody had commed him, and that Ben trusted him enough to unburden himself a little. There was no question in his mind that he’d do everything he could to live up to that trust. 

The first order of business was making sure that his new _ad’e_ got the care that apparently no one else had ever bothered to give them.

All of Ben’s _vod’e_ were awake and silently waiting for Jaster when he got Ben back to the room. Their relief at seeing Ben was a tangible thing.

Ben barely even stirred as they got him settled down to sleep in the center of the pile again.

“Thank you, _buir_ ,” Cody said quietly. The words were as pained as they were grateful. From everything Jaster had seen of the _verd’ika_ , it no doubt upset him that he couldn’t do anything to help Ben.

Jaster gave Cody a tight hug, and wrapped an arm around Wooley and Helix when they joined in, too. As terrifying as the _vod’e_ were on the battlefield, they were significantly less reserved than their General. Right now, Jaster was grateful for it. All of his new _ad’e_ needed more love and support. At least the _vod’e_ were exuberantly happy to receive it. 

Ben always managed to get this momentary look on his face that said he couldn’t quite imagine why anyone would _want_ to care about him.

It made Jaster want to bare his teeth and growl. 

Instead he squeezed the _vod’e_ a little tighter.

“Try to get him to sleep in,” Jaster whispered as they all settled down.

That earned him a few dry snorts of amusement, but also some nods of agreement, too.

Jaster made his way back to his room and collapsed on the bed. Dawn was still a couple hours out. He barely had enough energy to think, _I should find a way to distract the jetiise for another day…_ and then he was out, off to dreamland.

\--


	9. Chapter 9

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Guard duty really was one of his least favourite jobs.

The Jedi Masters had picked the training yard for their evaluation, which meant that at least they were as close to outdoors as it was possible to get on Mandalore, but, Force, this was boring.

All that urgency to get started on the evaluation, and now they were karking sitting in a rough circle on the practice field talking out some incomprehensible _jetii_ nonsense that he couldn't make heads or tails of. Something about philosophy and light and dark or whatever. It didn't make a kriffing lot of sense.

Thinking back over the day as he scanned the open area once more, Cody bit down on a grumble as his irritation spiked back into his awareness again. It was like the karking Jedi Masters had been watching them from the moment the rotation had started, waiting for what they considered the right moment to interrupt.

He hadn't been able to stop himself from giving Jinn a hard unhappy stare as the trio had trooped into the suite he and his _Vod'e_ had claimed. He and the rest of his family -- Force, it was still a little weird to think that word! -- had assembled there for the first meal of the rotation, rather than in the _Mand'alor_ 's dining area, which had been extensively damaged in the attack. At first it had been nice. Mostly calm, the little conversation there was carrying a sense of comradery.

The upsetting thing about being interrupted had been that he and his men wouldn't get a chance to check on their General properly before he went off with the Jedi Masters to submit to whatever _testing_ the three of them deemed necessary. Not that their General would have allowed them to check on him without protest, but it was the principle of the thing.

After the nightmare their General had had during the night, Cody did _not_ want to let the man out of his sight. Thankfully, their _buir_ had succeeded in finding him and calming him down, but the timing was bad and letting their General go into whatever this testing business entailed already tired wasn't an option that sat well with him.

Or the rest of the 212th, for that matter.

Cody had almost been able to physically feel the irritation coming off of them. Especially Helix, who had been visibly tempted to physically get between the Jedi Masters and their General to give their visitors a piece of his mind. Cody, who'd known that that would all too likely end in Helix swearing at them for all being karking idiots, had caught the medic's eyes and shaken his head, the movement just enough to be a clear signal to his _Vod_.

The General, on the other hand, had watched the Jedi Masters enter and stood with an expression of mingled resignation and polite interest, then bowed and declared himself ready to begin, if they were. Cody had wanted to throttle him, in that moment.

He still kind of did.

 _E chu ta!_ His karking General never did bother to look before he leapt into uncertain situations! He trusted in the Force, but that didn't karking mean that nothing would go wrong or that caution wasn't called for.

At the time, he'd carefully said nothing, but he didn't doubt that his General had picked up on his irritation. Getting out of his chair and picking up his bucket -- and thankful that they'd all managed to finish their meal -- Cody had mentally prepared himself for a long boring day of guard duty. The men hadn't had a moment's hesitation, either. They'd simply stood and formed up around him, following his lead seamlessly. Their _buir_ and Jango, having obligations to their own council that forced them to be elsewhere, had bid them all a good rotation, though the _Mand'alor_ had very firmly insisted that the testing stop at mid-afternoon so that the General could go see the armourer.

Cody was sure he'd made up the appointment on the spot, but the General hadn't protested it and Master Dooku -- to Cody's eternal shock, the most sensible of the three visiting Masters -- had simply nodded and accepted that excuse, forcing the other two to follow his lead.

It was so karking _bizarre_ to know that _Count kriffing Dooku_ was currently their best ally in trying to keep their General alive and in good health after their _buir_ and _ori'vod_. Like the galaxy had been turned upside-down.

He might only be a clone and expendable, but he hadn't been granted the rank of Marshal Commander for nothing. He was good at tactics, strategy, and observing people. He knew how to manipulate them if necessary, though he preferred not to. He knew how and when to approach a _Vod_ having a panic attack and get him through it. He knew the value of keeping his men in good fighting trim physically and mentally -- of making sure all of them got enough food, water, and rest.

And he knew that their General had been pushing himself to his limits for months now. Possibly even longer. Helix had approached him about it once, back when they'd still been fairly new aboard the _Negotiator_ , concerned about their General and the way he seemed to do nothing but meditate, drink tea, write reports, and run campaigns. And that pattern had continued unabated through the next year that they'd worked with Kenobi. It had continued after they'd been flung into the past and stripped of something like ten years of age.

Where he and his _Vod'e_ had physically been a very fit twenty years old, standard, before this kriffing mess had blown up in their faces, now they appeared to be the age they'd achieved in real-time. And their General had gotten hit even harder.

Not that suddenly being about twelve standard years of age seemed to have slowed Kenobi down a whole karking hell of a lot. It still took nearly everything Cody and his _Vod'e_ had in them to keep up with the _di'kut'la jetii_ or get him to see reason.

The mere fact that Master Dooku seemed to be a decent person and somehow managed to get their General to listen to him was nothing short of astonishing. 

The man very obviously had no idea how to handle children, though, which was alternately baffling and hilarious. He treated them all exactly as he would adults, and every time someone near him acted like the _Vod'e_ or Ben were the children they appeared to be, he got this blank look on his face that suggested to Cody that he was internally panicking.

"Everything's still clear, Commander," Boil and Waxer reported, coming up to stand next to him briefly as they made their report. "The four of them still discussing the history of the Order?"

"Nah, they've moved on to something about attachment versus compassion and how that relates to their Code and the various overarching Mandates of the Jedi Order," Cody replied absently, not taking his eyes off the Jedi Masters.

Boil made a disgusted sound. "Boring."

"Our discussions about armour and weapons are boring to some," Waxer pointed out. "Maybe this is the Jedi equivalent?"

Boil shrugged. "Maybe."

Giving them a nod, Cody daringly turned his back on the Jedi briefly to eye the as yet small group of curious _verd'e_ who'd assembled to watch the Jedi in the hopes that they might do more than talk. "We've still got another three hours of this to go," he pointed out. "Back to work."

"Sir!" They saluted, and to their credit, neither complained about the tedium of the job.

Cody knew it helped that he was right there with them, doing the same boring dirty work. He checked on the others, all in stationary positions like his, too. Crys and Longshot, on the roof of the palace's central building and the walls of the compound, respectively, gave him a small salute of acknowledgement when his attention turned to them, showing that they were still paying attention to their surroundings adequately. It took Wooley and Helix a few moments longer to do the same, apparently distracted briefly by something the group of _verd'e_ below them was doing. Once they were satisfied it was nothing, they met his eyes and gave him their salutes as well.

Once he was left to his thoughts again, satisfied all was still as it should be, Cody found himself once again mulling over the contradiction in terms that was the current incarnation of Count Dooku. The way he was acting around the General, as though he wanted to adopt him and take him as a padawan, was just... Cody didn't know what to make of it. That raised _so_ many questions about the era they'd come from.

Why hadn't he taken on their General in the first place? Why had he left it to Master Jinn, who'd karked it up so badly that their General was still suffering? And what in all the kriffing sith-hells had happened to drive Master Dooku to join the Separatists? Had Jinn's death been the catalyst to cause that?

As Jedi went, Cody was reluctantly starting to like the older Master, despite having only ever known him as a very kriffing dangerous adversary, previous to the karking Force mishap that had left them stranded on Korda VI. He treated their General as though Kenobi was worth his weight in cortosis and was doing all he could to make their General an even more terrifying force on the battlefield. Cody found he very much approved of that.

Master Jinn on the other hand...

Cody didn't bother to even try to hold back his dark scowl, his bucket hiding the expression just fine.

Master Jinn was acting like a karking laserbrained holotank commander with an attitude problem. Everything had to be about him, and when it wasn't, he tried to force it to be. He hadn't taken their General's request not to draw his weapon under any circumstances in the council chambers at all well, despite the sensible nature of the request. Cody was well familiar with the nuances of his General's _jetii_ mask of politeness, and it didn't exactly require a towering leap of logic to guess that the _jetii_ who'd trained his General would have similar mannerisms. Jinn hadn't acted overtly, but he'd looked offended at the mere suggestion of misconduct. Mace and Master Dooku had had to agree with the General first, before Jinn had given in and done the same.

And Cody had overheard the other two Masters scolding Jinn repeatedly even during this very esoteric academic part of the testing, telling him he needed to stop assuming the General was a master and asking deliberately difficult questions in an attempt to prove that he wasn't, that he needed to start at a lower level of difficulty and work his way up for his questioning to have any kind of validity. They were, after all, working on the assumption that the General was an initiate, not a Master, regardless of his proven skill with a lightsabre.

That had also made Cody want to blast things until he felt less inclined to scream at someone. The _insult_! That was _his General_ they were implying was utterly unfit for his position! And Master Jinn was acting like a _besom_ , to the point where the other two Jedi Masters were trying to rein him in.

The laserbrain was very definitely _not_ winning himself any points whatsoever with this performance.

In the end, it took the Jedi about another hour to decide to do something different. Cody wasn't sure if they'd finally finished beating their initial topic into the ground and moved to the next or just gotten tired of it. This one was just as boring to watch, though. Apparently, there were various different kinds of meditation, and the Masters needed to make sure the General could do all of them.

After he and his _Vod'e_ had supervised about half an hour of meditation, most of the watching _verd'e_ had either given up in disgust or been called away to their duties. A scattering of others had replaced them, but the overall number of spectators was perhaps half what it had been at the start of the rotation.

Cody fought down a yawn. He couldn't blame them for leaving. If he weren't on watch duty, he'd be tempted to leave, himself.

But there was no karking way in hell he was leaving his _di'kut'la_ General alone with the Jedi Masters. Not even with Masters Dooku and Windu there to keep Jinn more or less under control. He did not trust that man to do right by his General, and he knew it showed. Jinn had been on edge around him and the other _Vod'e_ right from the start, and hadn't relaxed an iota.

And that was exactly as it should be, the vindictive part of him insisted.

Cody didn't bother to restrain his smirk. He and his _Vod'e_ would make sure Jinn didn't touch a hair on their General's head. None of them knew exactly what had happened between the General and his old master, over the course of their 'partnership', such as it had been, but all of them knew it hadn't done General Kenobi an iota of good.

And seeing the way the Master behaved toward their General now? Cody wasn't inclined to be merciful.

But, that said, he was patient. Or could be, when the quarry was worth the wait.

Let the Master have all the rope he needed to hang himself. He and his _Vod'e_ \-- and probably his _buir_ and _ori'vod_ \-- would make damned sure Jinn never karking returned to Mandalore except in the direst case of need.

Maybe not even then.

In fact -- Cody brightened at the thought -- maybe, if they could point Master Dooku in the right direction, they could get him to take the General on as a student, this time around. General Kenobi would (rightly) refuse to serve a second apprenticeship, but Cody was sure he and Master Dooku could learn a lot from one another. Moreover, Dooku had all but insisted that such would be necessary, during their conversation on Korda, based on what they'd overheard, and that scenario would likely end far better than letting Kenobi end up with Jinn a second time. 

They had the opportunity and the option to influence their own pasts. And a Duty to the Republic. That, Cody felt, included ensuring the well-being of one of its foremost Generals.

He would have to discuss it with his men when the General wasn't present. Perhaps when, in a few hours, Kenobi had his spurious appointment with Ardanna.

Yes, he nodded to himself. That would do nicely, if they could get away without drawing their General's attention.

And it was fairly likely that his men would agree with him -- not just because he was their CO but also because their General meant the world to them. 

The move he was contemplating was fairly unorthodox, but there wasn't much Cody wouldn't do for his General.

Rex and General Skywalker both thought he was all about the regs. A very by-the-book sort of Commander. But, while he usually did things that way -- it was far easier not to run afoul of the bureaucrats in the first place, and he'd seen what could happen to a unit when they didn't get their requisitions on time -- he had no problems at all thinking creatively.

Rex had a tendency not to think things through all the way that often got him and his General into trouble. Cody liked to think he and his General were a bit less prone to that type of kark up. They got into other weird scrapes, yes, but it wasn't for lack of forethought and preparation.

Well. It usually wasn't, anyway.

The Jedi Masters stood and bowed to one another and General Kenobi, breaking Cody out of his thoughts and making him realise that the testing for the day was over.

Cody raised a hand, signaling to his men. _Well done. Regroup on ground level with the General._

As he jumped nimbly over the ledge of the rooftop he'd chosen as his vantage point and slowed his descent with a flare of his jetpack's thrusters, Cody eyed his General, looking tiny and underfed compared to the three masters standing around him, and made a note to ask Helix to make sure the General was eating enough. Especially in the next few days of testing, he would need every spare calorie they could force him to ingest. Cody had no doubt that the coming rotation would contain far more than a few simple meditations that the General could do in his sleep.

No, more likely, they would start testing him on his 'sabre forms and footwork. Or -- possibly worse for his energy expenditures -- his Force abilities. Those took a lot out of the General, both in combat and out, when he used them extensively, as these tests would doubtless require him to.

His men followed his example, making their way directly to ground level and their General, converging on him from seven different points of the training yard and palace grounds.

Cody could see Master Dooku's knowing expression as he approached them, and Master Jinn's wary one.

"General?" He asked, keeping his tone polite, "Are you and the Masters finished for the day? Your appointment with the Master Armourer is coming up soon."

His General bent to pick up his bucket, which had been sitting on the ground beside him during the testing, and dust it off. "We are, I believe."

"Yes, for now," Master Windu confirmed. "We would like to pick the thread back up at about the same time next rotation."

Being far too accommodating, as usual, his General bowed, even as the rest of the _Vod'e_ formed up around him. "Of course, Councilor," he said, making Cody want to growl. "But please excuse me. I really shouldn't keep the Master Armourer waiting."

Cody could see his own irritation reflected in his men's body language, even through the layer of armour they wore. They'd likely made note of many of the same kark ups he had, himself.

Good. He'd have less work to do to convince them he was right.

Jinn watched them with an expression that said he had no idea what he'd done, but was well aware he'd kriffed up somehow and had no particular desire to piss them off any further. 

Ultimately, Cody decided, he was fine with that. He wouldn't have to waste any blaster ammunition on the _or'dinii_ , that way.

The General said his goodbyes and took his leave, then, and that was good. It took him and the men back away from the Jedi Masters that were driving them to distraction with their rather dismissive treatment of the General.

Cody waited until they were well out of earshot of the Jedi Masters before he asked, "So how'd it go, General?"

"Well enough," his General replied, sounding thoughtful, "I know they were surprised by how well I did during the meditation sequence."

That wasn't a huge surprise. His General was far better at that sort of thing than any initiate -- and many knights, judging by what he and his _Vod'e_ had observed in the field. Cody nodded. "The rest?"

"I'm not sure," his General answered after a few seconds. "Masters Windu and Dooku seemed to accept my answers, but Master Jinn was rather more exacting than I remember him being."

Cody bit down on the curse that tried to roll off his tongue. "Will that affect the outcome of their assessment?"

"Hopefully not to any large degree," the General replied, his tone clearly indicating that he didn't wish to discuss that any further.

"Yes, sir," Cody accepted the gentle rebuke for what it was and a silence fell between them that stretched the length of the corridor and into the armoury.

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

His Commander was worrying again.

Ben tried not to sigh as he let his faithful _Vod'e_ escort him through the palace to the armoury. It was slightly wearying to know that his men disapproved so strongly of Master Jinn, for all that he truly was an exemplary Jedi Master, and hadn't -- despite Mace's and Master Dooku's protests -- been all that unfair during the testing that morning.

A trifle demanding, perhaps, but not harsh.

He set aside those thoughts as they entered Ardanna's demesne, though. As was becoming routine, the _Vod'e_ stopped just inside the armoury doors, formed up around him, and pulled off their buckets. Ben followed suit as Ardanna came over to meet them.

"Well met, _ad'ike_ ," she greeted them. "I trust all of you are well, this rotation?"

"Yes, thank you," Cody replied politely. "It hasn't been all that eventful, but somewhat stressful nonetheless."

Ardanna scoffed. "Rumour has it that the _jetiise_ have been putting our little General through his paces, as though he were a green _verd_ ," she said, derision thick in her tone.

"It's not that bad," Ben protested, "and, anyway, that's inherent to the whole point of their assessment."

Ardanna gave him a long look, clearly trying to determine whether he actually believed that or not, then nodded. "Fine. If you say so, little General. But I don't like it, and neither does a sizeable portion of the _verd'e_ living in the barracks."

Ben did sigh, hearing that. "Somehow I'm not surprised," he muttered.

"But enough politics. You're doubtless here to see my designs!" Ardanna turned abruptly on her heel and strode briskly across her workshop floor to grab a large rolled up piece of flimsi and bring it over to a set of clips mounted to the back wall of the armoury. "Come," she invited him, much more enthusiasm in her voice than before, "have a look, and let's talk."

Curious, his _Vod'e_ followed him over to stand clustered around him as he admired the pure artistry of the sketches the master armourer had made.

There were a series of three different variations sketched out on the sheet of flimsi Ardanna attached to the pair of clips and then secured to the wall by its lower edge with a long bar that ran the width of the sheet, keeping it from rolling right back up. 

The first, leftmost, design looked almost identical to what he was currently wearing. The biggest differences were in the boots and the torso plates. The boots were lighter, and looked more like the ones used by the Jedi, Ben noted with approval. They would allow him a lot more freedom, and that could very well mean the difference between winning a duel and losing it. The armour of the torso was split into several smaller plates rather than one large one. That would, Ben knew well, mean he would be significantly more vulnerable than he was in the armour he currently wore, but also that he had far greater range of movement.

The second didn't have those big differences, but relied instead on adjusting the size of all the plates, making them significantly smaller, and compensating for the reduced coverage by adding a layer of very carefully tailoured armourweave over the armour itself. It looked a lot like a Jedi cloak, and oh, Ben wanted one.

The rightmost fell somewhere between the other two, combining elements of both designs into what felt to Ben like a wonderfully harmonious whole.

He pointed to it, his decision immediately made and reinforced by the warm encouraging feeling in the Force as he did, and said, "That one."

Ardanna gave him a sidelong look. "Well, that was quick," she muttered. "I didn't even get to tell you what changes I made."

Ben chuckled. "It feels right. And I can see most of the changes. But, please, tell me about them anyway."

She could tell he was humouring her, but apparently didn't mind. "Well, seeing as you've made your decision already, I'll just tell you about that one." She paused to take a breath, then went on. "I'm sure you've already noticed the addition of the surcoat and the alterations to the boots. Both of those were based on and inspired by the robes you _jetiise_ love so much."

"I like them. A lot," Ben put in, grinning.

Ardanna huffed at him, amused. "Good. The surcoat will be made with armourweave, and specially reinforced, because the way it rubs against the _beskar_ alloy plates underneath it could cause it to wear out too fast, otherwise. The boots... well, I hadn't decided what kind of material would be best suited for those as yet, but that's something we can experiment with. Boots are among the least critical pieces of any set of armour when it comes to how well it keeps you from getting stabbed or cut."

"The ones I had as a Jedi were made from heavily reinforced synthleather," Ben offered. "As such things went, they weren't particularly good for traversing smooth surfaces, but did wonders for my mobility and agility."

A thoughtful expression on her face, Ardanna nodded and made a note on the sheet of flimsi in a shorthand Ben couldn't decipher on the spot. "Alright, I'll look into it. Anyway. The plates of the armour in this new design are exactly the same in number and position as the ones you're currently wearing, but all of them are much smaller, considerably reducing the weight and allowing you more freedom of movement in your hips and shoulders."

"That sounds wonderful," Ben told her, and felt the approval radiating off his Commander. "Does the surcoat replace my cape?"

The Master Armourer grinned at him knowingly. "It does not. You can keep the cape, if you wish, little General, though it won't be required, once you have your surcoat."

Ben grinned back up at her. "That's good news. I would be sad to part with it. What will it cost me?"

That question got him a sour look, the first he could recall getting from Ardanna. "Even were I not on retainer and paid handsomely to outfit all of the _Mand'alor_ 's _verd'e_ , I would not accept payment for this job, after the services you have already rendered our people. You owe me nothing, little General, save your continued adherence to the _Resol'nare_."

Stunned, Ben tried to protest. "But--" 

"No." Ardanna cut him off. "If you must -- if you insist -- consider this a pre-paid favour, to be collected later. _Mando'ad'e_ pay their debts."

Ben pinched at the bridge of his nose, then took a deep breath and released it on a sigh, dropping his hand again and looking back up to meet her eyes. "Very well, then. I see you won't be swayed and I accept the debt."

"Karking right, I won't," Ardanna agreed. "Now, get out of my workshop and go fish your _buir_ out of the council chambers. I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking a short break from the constant arguing to break bread with you."

Cody snorted. "I suspect you're right, Ardanna," the Commander agreed. Boil, Crys and Wooley nodded.

"Jango's probably with him," Waxer pointed out. "We should make sure he joins us, too."

"Definitely," Ardanna told them. "Now, march, _verd'ike_."

Giving in with a shake of his head, Ben led the _Vod'e_ back out of the armoury and into the corridor without another word. He wasn't sure how he felt about Ardanna refusing payment, seeing as it meant he was effectively spending his _buir_ 's money rather than his own, but he couldn't deny that that made things rather easier on him. He hadn't bothered to carry any credits into the final mission he and his men had run in their own timeline, leading to him being flat broke, now.

Not that he wouldn't have found some way to pay for armour that he just knew would both look good and suit him well.

If nothing else, he had gotten quite good at gambling over his years as Master Qui-Gon's padawan. He was pretty sure he'd even impressed his master with the skill a few times.

Shaking off the thoughts as they reached the council chamber doors, Ben and his _Vod'e_ approached the pair of guards stationed beside the doors. He bowed when he was in easy conversational range. "I wish to speak to my _buir_ ," he said simply. "Could you let him know we are here?"

The guard on the right -- a man Ben recognised from the last time he'd requested entry -- chuckled. "Less urgent than last time?"

"A little," Ben agreed easily. "If he can't spare an hour to join us for a meal because the situation is too tense, we'll understand, but we would like him and our _ori'vod_ to be there." 

The guard on the left nodded. "Our _Mand'alor_ hasn't left the council chambers since early morning," he said, his tone a bit conspiratorial. "It shouldn't be too hard to lure him out with food."

The second guard opened a line on his comm and raised it to his bucket. " _Mand'alor_ ," he said, his voice businesslike, "your presence is requested."

"What is it _this_ time?" Their _buir_ grumbled. "Half the city has come by today to 'request my presence'."

The guard snorted. "We turned away the majority of them, sir," he said, "but the damage to the clinic has left many without access to medical care. In any case, I don't think you'll be all too sorry to come see these visitors."

Ben could almost hear his _buir_ come to the correct conclusion. "I'll be right there."

"Bring your _ad_ with you," the guard suggested, his grin audible.

"Mereel out."

Cody snickered. "That was easier than I thought."

"Well, if he was already hungry..." Wooley let the sentence trail off.

The council chamber doors opened a moment later to reveal Jango and their _buir_ , who both seemed relieved to see them.

" _Ad'ike,_ " their _buir_ asked them, surveying them and obviously counting heads, "is something wrong?"

Waxer and Boil shook their heads. "Ardanna said we should make sure you join us for a meal," Waxer answered. "It sounded like a good idea."

Jango snorted. "That woman is a bit of a busybody," he grumbled.

"I like her," Cody told him. "She's good at what she does and speaks her mind."

Their _buir_ chuckled. "That she does. And I suppose I could find the time to join you for a meal, as long as it's a fairly quick one. There are still several topics the council must debate before we adjourn for the rotation."

"Good plan, sir," the guard on the right approved. "We can run interference with the populace for that long."

"Let's go eat then," Helix spoke up. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving."

Ben shook his head, affection for his men running through him. "We'd better get you fed, then," he said.

That got the lot of them moving. His 212th formed up around him as they always did, and started herding him away from the council chamber doors. _Buir_ and Jango followed, both of them definitely glad to be out of the council chamber, even if it was only for a little while. The stress was sloughing off them in waves, in the Force, leaving their shoulders far more relaxed than they'd started within moments.

The meal allowed his men to do the same, incrementally setting aside the tension they'd all carried since the moment the Jedi Masters had come into the suite earlier in the rotation.

As the atmosphere in the room calmed, so too did Ben.

He didn't speak much during the meal, letting his _Vod'e_ talk about the testing and the visit to the armoury. It was interesting to him to hear how it had looked from their perspective, so Ben didn't interrupt, speaking only when he was invited to.

After about an hour, their _buir_ 's comm link beeped, and he groaned before he answered it. "Mereel."

"Sorry to interrupt your meal, sir," the guard Ben had recognised earlier spoke up, "but I'm afraid you're needed here to settle an argument between Chieftain Adonai and Chieftain Razi."

"Very well, I'll be there in a moment." Jaster didn't bother signing off. He simply pinched at the bridge of his nose and visibly scraped together what patience he still had.

Ben could sympathise. Having to listen to people argue all day was very stressful, especially when you were nominally in charge. "Want me to come with you, _buir_? That's the sort of thing I'm trained for."

The offer got him an immediate shake of his _buir_ 's head. "It's a minor argument that those two are making out to be very important. They just need to shout about it for a while and then they'll settle down. Unfortunately, I'm needed to keep them from trying to go for one anothers' throats in the process."

Oh. One of _those_ arguments. Ben made a face; that was definitely unpleasant but didn't require his brand of persuasion. His _buir_ was right. "Good luck, then, _buir._ "

Jango put in, "You eight should rest while you can, anyway. The _jetiise_ will want to repeat what they did today, come next rotation."

Boil sighed. "Don't remind us. Force, standing guard is boring."

"You aren't under orders from me to do it," Ben reminded him. "You chose to inflict that duty on yourselves."

"If you think we'd even consider leaving you alone with the three of them," Crys pointed out, "you're out of your mind."

Longshot nodded. "What he said. Now, put your dishes away and come sit with us. You wanted to finish reading that history. This is your chance."

Cody nodded. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

The tactic was transparent, but Ben couldn't deny that getting to finish his history was an appealing idea. "I suppose."

"Yes, rest, _ad'ike_ ," Jaster added his approval, then stood, taking his leave again. "I'll be back after the council session ends, if it doesn't run too late."

\--- POV: Yan Dooku--

Yan watched the tea leaves swirl in his cup as he let the sounds of Mace and Qui-Gon politely bickering float over him.

Their morning had been unusual. Most unusual. 

Young Ben had answered every question that they'd posed to him, and had done so expertly. That alone would have been impressive enough, but the _way_ he'd answered them was curious indeed. He'd spoken as if he’d had personal experience with the subjects at hand. 

_“Policy states that the various service corps represent honorable, valued paths for those who find the duties of a Knight are not to their liking. In practice, anyone who ages out is shoved in that direction, whether they want to be or not, and while the rest of the universe values the service corps, most Knights and even Masters have a… tendency to be less than respectful or dismissive of them.”_

_“Those who follow the path of the Consular seek to spread harmony through the galaxy via diplomacy. Given the high demand from the Senate for such services, Consulars are often sent into active war zones with their padawans in tow. It’s seen as important training, and is only slightly less dangerous than the Guardians taking their own students on combat missions.”_

_“There are several famous wandering Jedi, most of whom are extolled for their absolute mastery of the Force and many of whom cause the High Council as much trouble as they solve…”_

In Ben’s answers, the standard information taught to all padawans was couched with the stark flavor of reality every time.

Yan blew on his tea to cool it and pursed his lips in thought.

“...to know is how this child had learned so much about the inner workings of the Temple,” Mace was saying with a grim twist to his lips. “Even if he was trained by a wayward Knight or Master, even if that person was somehow able to shove decades worth of ability into a child, that still doesn’t explain how Ben knows details about life at the Temple. He spoke of things that only a person who had actually lived there would know.”

“Perhaps he was part of the crèche and his master took him?” Qui-Gon asked. The scent of his own sapir tea mixed with the aroma of Yan’s spiced nysillim brew. The sapir was heavy in the air. Yan leaned into his cup to catch the sweet, floral notes from the nysillim. 

“There’s no record,” Mace argued.

“It could have been erased.”

“To what purpose?”

“Whatever training was used on the boy, it had to be unorthodox. Maybe the youngling's master feared the Council’s reaction?” 

Yan raised an eyebrow at Qui-Gon. Given how often he was at odds with the council himself, that statement took on a particular type of irony.

Qui-Gon caught the expression and gave Yan a look. 

“It doesn’t seem possible,” Mace muttered. He shook his head and took a drink of his roasted green tea. “Somehow I get the feeling that this kid will keep surprising us. How does one shove all the experience of an adult into the body of a child?”

“Perhaps because he _is_ an adult shoved into the body of a child,” Yan said, finally speaking up. 

Qui-Gon and Mace both gave him a startled look.

“Explain,” Mace said.

Yan sipped his tea as he thought out his answer. “On Korda VI, I asked Ben where he learned his abilities. He stated that he was a time traveler, flung decades into the past by the Force, and de-aged into the body of a child.”

There was a lengthy pause. Mace furrowed his brow and glanced back and forth between Yan and Qui-Gon.

“Is there a reason you didn’t put this in your report to the council?” Mace asked.

“At the time, I thought he was lying or had been lied to,” Yan answered simply. “The more I considered the matter, the more I convinced myself that he was simply being facetious.” He allowed himself a smirk. “The young man does have a very dry sense of humor.”

Since they’d all been subjected to Ben’s version of wit for the whole morning, that fact was obvious. 

“But after our introduction to the ruling council of Mandalore, and what we heard today…” Yan let the sentence trail off.

A silence fell and stretched as they all considered the matter. 

“That’s pretty outlandish,” Mace said eventually.

“Master Yoda would tell us that all things are possible in the Force,” Qui-Gon answered easily.

“The question is, does it change anything that we are doing here?” Mace asked. “Wherever he came from, Ben is still a child.”

“The _Mand'alor_ has been very accommodating, allowing us to come here to test Ben in any way. He’d be within his rights to deny us access entirely, based on his people’s general dislike of the Jedi Order and Mandalore's status as non-Republic space,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “I suspect that the only reason we’ve been given this chance at all is because of Ben’s influence.”

It was true that the boy had spoken to them with familiar ease. Friendly, Yan would say. As if they were not merely equals but also close confidants on top of that, all of them just meeting up after an extended mission away.

Especially Qui-Gon. Ben referred to the other Masters by their title and surname, but to Qui-Gon he left it at just ‘Master’. It should have been unremarkable, but it reminded Yan of the way a padawan often addressed their master, even years after their knighting. 

Ben had been friendly and his body language open. Whatever secrets he was hiding were so well covered that there wasn’t a hint of them in his speech or his movement. Not directly. But there had been other signs. Like the way he'd dipped into a kneeling position that was eerily familiar. 

Then there were the other seven children that followed Ben everywhere, who’d shown up with opinions about Jedi Masters that they should have had no prior contact with. Their wariness of everyone seemed to be more a matter of innate personality than anything else, but they showed a notable dislike of Qui-Gon. 

It made Yan wonder.

The situation required more observation. Once he had more facts, then he could draw a suitable conclusion.

Perhaps he might try to engage one of the other children without Ben’s presence. Cody, maybe. The other children called him ‘commander’. That one would likely be least threatened if Yan talked to him. Though he might be a stern teacher, he didn’t particularly enjoy menacing younglings.

“I propose that we continue the testing,” Yan said. “Time traveler or not, it behooves us to know what young Ben is capable of.”

“And the more we talk to him, the better chance that he’ll slip up and give us some information we can work with,” Qui-Gon said with a nod of agreement. “And at the very least, he seems firmly anchored in the Light side of the Force.”

Qui-Gon was particularly good at sensing such things. His connection to the Living Force attuned him to fluctuations in the emotions of those around him very keenly. That ability was part of what made him an excellent diplomat. 

“I didn’t sense anything amiss,” Mace admitted. “But I wanted to reserve judgement until I’d heard your opinion.”

Qui-Gon nodded respectfully at Mace. They all sipped their tea in silence.

Yan drank his to the dregs and set down his cup. 

“Those brothers of his certainly are a noisy lot,” he remarked with a mild grimace.

“Their presence in the Force is… unusual,” Mace agreed.

“And uncomfortable.” Qui-Gon frowned. “I’m not sure what I did to cause them to glare at me so, but it’s only gotten worse.”

That it had.

“They don’t seem to be ready to attack you on sight yet, padawan.” Yan attempted to stifle his amusement at his former student’s discomfort by preparing another cup of tea. 

Qui-Gon laughed. “You say so, master, but I wonder.”

Mace snorted. “I’m sure you’ll be able to protect yourself, Master Jinn.”

Qui-Gon gave him a slightly incredulous look. “I’d like to think so, but…”

Yan smirked and poured the hot water onto the fresh tea leaves, and then passed the pot to Mace so he could refresh his. 

This was shaping up to being a truly interesting little endeavour. Yan was looking forward to seeing what the next day would bring. Tomorrow, they would start testing Ben on his control of the Force. That was bound to be exciting for everyone involved.

\--


	10. Chapter 10

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

This rotation had started the same as the previous one. He and his men had had their first meal of the rotation with the General, their _buir_ , and Jango, before they'd parted ways. The Jedi Masters had shown up at their suite and requested that the General go with them if he was ready.

Cody bit down on a sigh as he watched the Jedi seem to stand around and do nothing but talk, again. They were actively trying to figure out what the General could see and hear and feel in the Force, as well as what his range was -- as though he was a karking comm unit receiver -- and making astonished noises at what they were finding out.

It was satisfying to watch his General turn every assumption those three masters had made upside-down.

The empathy testing had very nearly made Cody laugh out loud. When Master Windu had asked the General how far away he could sense emotions, the response had _definitely_ not been what they'd been expecting to hear.

 _"It's hard to pin down precisely,"_ his General had said with a shrug, _"I can't sense most beings when they're more than about half a klick away, but I've been able to sense my Vod'e across entire planets and star systems before, when they felt intensely enough about something."_

Sith-hells, Cody had been caught off guard by that little tidbit, himself.

Filing it away to ask his General about later, he'd turned his attention back to his self-inflicted posting. The three masters had made plans to test his General's claim later, since there was no easy way for one of them to get half a klick away on the spot, and then simply moved on to the next phase of the testing.

Which was telepathy, apparently. The four of them spent about a quarter of an hour moving to different points around the training yard and seemingly doing nothing. His General was fully focused, and didn't acknowledge anything but what he was doing, in the process.

That was another ability Cody hadn't known his General had. It begged the question: why didn't he use it to talk to them? Was he limited to only talking to other Force sensitives? Or did he have to concentrate too hard to make it work for it to be feasible during a fight?

He'd have to remember to ask his General about that later. It could be extremely useful in battle, if he could find a way to tell them directly what was needed. Often their General had a better overall view of the tactical situation on the ground than his troops did. The way he habitually Force jumped from place to place, soaring high overhead, when he didn't throw himself into defending them from barrages of blaster fire, lent itself to that kind of situational analysis.

As it was, they'd developed a system to let the General know when their positions were being overrun and they needed his assistance. The General had described it to them as a sort of emotional alarm bell. Cody wasn't sure how the kriff that worked, and how the General could possibly pick any kind of 'emotional alarm bell' out of the chaos and fear that characterised any battle, but it definitely worked and brought more of his _Vod'e_ home than would have made it without that system in place, so he wasn't going to question it.

Even if he didn't like that it meant his General tended to leap around the battlefield without him.

And now the four Jedi were moving on to the final phase of the morning's testing. Once they were through with this part, Cody and his _Vod'e_ would finally be able to retrieve their General and make sure he ate something. After all the tricks he'd had to perform and hoops he'd had to jump through, their _jetii_ was sure to be tired.

Cody glanced across the open expanse of the training yard to the position Helix and Wooley had taken up -- the same one they'd claimed previously -- and caught Helix scowling down at their General. The expression might've been hidden from most by the armour the medic wore, but Cody knew him well and could read every nuance of his posture.

"All still clear, here," Longshot said abruptly, breaking the comms silence.

"Here too," Wooley reported.

"Aye," Waxer checked in, adding his own support.

"Nothing out of place here either," Cody confirmed. "We should be clear to drag the General away for a meal soon, by my estimation."

"Thank the Force," Crys muttered. "When are they gonna get to the fun part? I thought there'd be a lot more 'sabre fighting than this."

Cody saw Longshot reach out and put a hand on Crys' shoulder. " _Patience, Vod_ ," their sniper offered, "I'm sure they'll give our General a chance to kick them around the training yard soon enough. Master Dooku's been itching to train with him. Said so himself."

"He did," Cody agreed, "but keep the line clear. Don't let yourselves get sloppy just because this is an easy assignment."

"Sir!" They offered him a verbal salute.

While they'd conferred, checking in with one another, the Jedi had assembled below them in a rough circle and settled themselves cross-legged on the slightly dusty ground of the training yard with no particular care for their robes or armour.

Cody listened in with interest as the next phase of the testing began in earnest.

The three Masters asked his General to share what they called 'a mental experience' with them. What that meant, Cody wasn't sure, but it sounded like they wanted General Kenobi to hand over one of his memories. Cody didn't want his guess to be correct, but he couldn't imagine what else a 'mental experience' could be and he didn't like just how much of his General that particular test would allow Jinn to see.

That made the test abhorrent to think about, in Cody's considered opinion. Asking someone to simply hand over a piece of themselves just for the sake of proving that they _could_?

No _Vod_ would ever condone such a thing. When _Vod'e_ shared anything that personal, it was only done with unforced consent from all parties.

The way the _Vod’e_ shared their knowledge was never spoken of. No being who wasn't a clone had any idea that this secret even existed. It had to be that way. Absolute silence on the topic was crucial to their survival. Had the Kaminoans heard so much as a hint of a rumour about it, there was no question that they would have immediately tried to pick the deviant behavior apart, resulting in "scientific testing" not only of the cadets who showed said deviation from the template but likely also of many others picked at random from the population living on Kamino. There was no question in any _Vod_ 's mind that that would mean the disappearances -- and likely the deaths -- of many _Vod'e_. They couldn't even tell the Generals they trusted about it, for fear that somehow the information would get out.

When Cody refocused his attention on the _jetiise_ , Master Jinn, the arrogant laserbrain, was acting like he didn't think the General could do it. That was clear in his words and the hint of condescension in his tone. Cody scowled. He'd learned quite early on in his training on Kamino how to read the instructors, just like every other clone trooper, and Jinn had the air of someone searching for a weakness. Looking for an excuse to lay blame, to claim a cadet had failed at their assigned task.

He bit down on the low growl that tried to rise up out of the pit of his stomach, and knew the rest of his _Vod'e_ had to have picked up on the master's attitude as well. 

All four Jedi looked up, glancing at all of them in turn. Jinn looked almost afraid and Master Dooku amused. Good. His General's gaze lingered on him, as though trying to reassure him everything was fine.

Cody was far from convinced that was the case, but he nodded back anyway. He could and would restrain himself for now, but if Jinn continued to be a karking _besom_ he and his men would take action to deal with him. One way or another.

After a moment that seemed to stretch, Master Windu said something that Cody didn't catch, and the testing resumed. Cody didn't stop glaring at Jinn, and Jinn kept glancing up at him over the course of the next half hour, definitely wary.

Cody took more pleasure in that than he probably should have, but he was no Jedi, sworn not to act on emotions; he was a clone trooper, and he was the best of the best. Few, if any, could match him for intelligence and combat ability, though none of the _Vod'e_ in the GAR could be called a slouch by any stretch of the imagination.

"Have you set him on fire with your eyes yet, Commander?" Boil asked him, after a couple of minutes had passed, audibly trying not to laugh.

"No, and more's the pity," Waxer chimed in. "But I have faith in our CO. He's pulled off the impossible before."

 _Di'kut'e_. Cody carefully didn't smile.

"Keep. The lines. Clear," he said firmly, knowing exactly that by not addressing their statements directly he was telling them he wasn't upset. Yet.

"I think they're just about done anyway, Commander," Helix pointed out.

Looking back down at the Jedi, Cody had to agree with the medic's assessment. The four of them were getting back to their feet and exchanging a few quiet words.

"Down to the training yard," he ordered his men, and leapt lightly down to ground level himself, a quick touch to his jetpack slowing his fall appropriately.

His General watched them approach with a bemused smile on his face. "Had a good time, Commander?" He asked, teasingly.

"Better than yesterday, General," Cody told him. "We learned a few interesting things today."

"Oh?" Master Dooku sounded curious. "Do tell us what you've learned."

His General looked like he wanted to intercede, so Cody forged on ahead quickly. He found he wanted to strike this particular blow here and now. "That some Jedi can be just as quick to condemn their cadets as our own instructors were."

"Condemn?" Master Windu looked shocked. "What do you mean by that?"

Cody shrugged. "When one of us didn't make the cut, they got decommissioned. Condemned by our instructors for not being good enough."

"And you feel you saw that happen today?" Master Windu pressed him, the horror on his face not lessening. "Is that what got the lot of you so upset?"

Cody simply shrugged again and held his silence on the topic, knowing his men would follow his lead on this. Let the _jetiise_ stew over that idea. He'd said enough. "Come on, General," he said instead. "You should join us for our meal, and the Masters should find something to eat, themselves."

"This conversation is _not_ over, youngling," Master Windu tried to insist.

Cody reached up to take off his bucket, just so that he could meet the Master's eyes without the _beskar_ alloy in the way and viciously drive his point home. "You may not feel it's over, Master Jedi, but I do. If and when I choose to tell you more about my past, it will be on _my_ terms."

He took his usual position at his General's side without another word, putting his bucket back on, and the 212th formed up around them. "Come on, _Vod'e_."

As they marched their General back into the central building, falling into step with one another with the ease of long practice, Cody heard Master Dooku murmur, "Quite a strong-willed youngling, isn't he."

General Kenobi waited until they were safely out of earshot of the other Jedi Masters and in an empty corridor before he asked, "You do know that none of the Jedi are trying to catch me out and decommission me, right?"

Longshot scoffed. "Maybe," he said scathingly, "and maybe not. One is our committed enemy in our own timeline, one is a General we respect but from decades before he has his command, and the third is doing his karking best to try to catch you in a lie or something. And it's pretty blatant."

Wooley nodded. "You're too forgiving, General," he said. "We all know the signs; we had to, to survive long enough to get off Kamino. Being able to recognise that kind of thing was literally a matter of life and death to us."

The General was visibly at a loss for words, hearing it said so bluntly.

"Enough. We can discuss this later, when we have some privacy," Cody commanded. "Our main concern for now is finding some calories before the masters resume their testing."

Jango and their _buir_ picked that moment to appear around the corner of the corridor, as though they'd been watching the training yard and waiting to intercept them. Cody suspected they might have done just that.

"Ah, _ad'ike_ ," the _Mand'alor_ greeted them, audibly pleased to see them. "I take it you've escaped the tedium of your guard duty briefly?"

Waxer and Boil straightened in an approximation of a salute. "We have, _buir_."

Jango caught Cody's eyes with a tilt of his bucket. "Ardanna said she had something for me, that you requested she make, _vod'ika_ , but she refused to tell me what it was."

Brightening at the idea that the armourer had managed to make him the pair of lightsabre belt clips so quickly, Cody smiled. "Then let's go get it, Jango," he suggested. "It shouldn't take long, and afterwards we can enjoy our meal."

"By all means, then," their _buir_ agreed. "It's on our way, so a short detour isn't out of the question."

Cody -- who was nearly certain the rest of his _Vod'e_ knew roughly what his plan was, for all that he hadn't said a word about it to them -- simply started them walking again. His men followed him without comment, though his General gave him a long look that said he knew something was up.

General Kenobi always had been able to read him exceedingly well.

Cody smirked, safe in the knowledge that the expression was hidden behind his bucket. The fact that his General was able to tell when he was up to something didn't mean that Kenobi could also guess _what_ he was up to.

He and his men all trooped into the armourer's workshop under a minute later, and formed up near the door with their buckets tucked under their arms, as had worked out well for them the last few times they'd visited the armoury. It was becoming standard protocol, and Cody found he didn't mind that at all. His General was in the usual spot beside him, and Jango stood behind them with their _buir_.

Ardanna glanced over at them, then held up a hand to request they wait a moment. Cody nodded back. If she was doing something delicate -- it looked like she was adjusting something to do with the electronics inside a vambrace -- he was willing to wait a minute.

When she moved to join them, she raised an eyebrow at him. "It's the little commander," she greeted him, with a nod for his _buir_ and _ori'vod_. "Back again so soon, _verd'ika_?"

"Jango said what I requested was ready," he replied bluntly, "so I thought I should come get it."

"What you requested?" His _buir_ asked, puzzled. "I thought your armour was in fine shape."

"It is," Cody agreed, "but it's missing a piece, and I thought it would be best to get a new one rather than scavenge what I need off my old armour."

"Cody Mereel," Ardanna admonished him fiercely, "don't you dare think of doing that!"

The brief stunned silence that reigned after that surprised everyone.

Ardanna took one look at his _buir_ 's expression over his shoulder, and she rolled her eyes at the lot of them. " _Men_ ," she muttered in disgust. "Never talking to each other about the important things."

"Err, Commander?" Helix dared speak. "What's she talking about?"

Their General made a sound halfway between a sigh and a chuckle, but didn't bother speaking, apparently deeming this their mess to sort out.

Baffled, Cody turned to look at his medic blankly. He hesitated before he looked up at his _buir_ , not sure what he would find.

Jango, who'd been there when they'd made their decision, looked exasperated. The _Mand'alor_... looked stunned, and almost on the verge of tears.

Cody cleared his throat awkwardly. " _Buir_? Are you... upset?"

The question seemed to break some kind of restraint that had been holding their _buir_ in place, and he reached out to pull Cody abruptly into a hug, going down on one knee to do it properly.

Startled by the move, he made a very undignified sound that got laughs out of his men, before he put his own arms around his _buir_.

After a moment, he finally got his answer. "No, I'm as far from upset as I could be, _ad'ika_ ," the _Mand'alor_ told him, his voice slightly hoarse. "Have the rest of your _vod'e_ also reached a decision about the name they would like to take?"

Reassured that nothing was wrong, Cody relaxed. "We all decided to take yours."

His _Vod'e_ clustered around them, joining in the hug one by one, wanting to be in on the moment. They could tell that it was a very important one to their _buir_. Far more important than they'd realised.

Among the _Vod'e_ , the choosing of names was important, certainly, but it was also a fairly private thing. As a clone, your name was one of the few things you had that was yours, and yours alone, and therefore a closely guarded part of your identity. To be shared with any _Vod_ who asked, but not shared any further and _especially_ not where an instructor or other authority figure could overhear.

Judging by the way their _buir_ had reacted to finding out about their decision, it seemed that, for all that their own culture very closely paralleled that of the _mando'ad'e_ , there were also some critical differences.

"We'd have mentioned it sooner, if we'd known it was so important," Cody said, after the emotionally charged silence had drawn out slightly.

"I should have said something," Jango said on a sigh.

The General shook his head. "You couldn't have known it would turn into a misunderstanding, Jango. I didn't, and I've been working with my troopers for years. I know most of their ways and beliefs, as well as many of yours."

Their _buir_ took a deep breath and gently pried the seven of them away from him so he could stand. "We can work out how this miscommunication happened later. For now it's enough that it's been discovered and resolved."

"Good." Ardanna declared and strode back over to them, deeming that a signal that they could finish their business. "Here are those clips you wanted, Cody. See that they're put to good use."

"Clips?" His _buir_ asked curiously.

His General groaned. "Really, Cody? _Really_? Jango doesn't need a _lightsabre clip_ , and neither do you."

All of the _Vod'e_ scoffed. "As often as you karking lose the thing and I end up carrying it for you, General," Cody replied without paying his General's whining any heed whatsoever, "I disagree."

He handed Jango one of the clips, getting a raised eyebrow and a half-smile in return, then attached his own to his belt without ceremony. "Thank you, Ardanna."

The master armourer accepted the thanks as her due, and then politely kicked them back out of her workshop, with a terse, "Go eat before your little general there falls over in a faint."

Before General Kenobi could get himself worked up over that, Helix offered her a nod. "Of course," he accepted the dismissal. "Get moving, General. She's not wrong. You've still got a long afternoon ahead of you, and so do we."

Muttering imprecations at their medic, General Kenobi crossed his arms defensively over his chest and raised his chin stubbornly. "You don't need to get so worked up, Helix, I'm _fine_."

Helix simply turned the General bodily towards the door and gave him a shove to get him moving. "For now, yes. And I'm trying to keep you that way."

Their _buir_ huffed at them, amused, but didn't do more than add, in an aside to Jango, "Helix has the most sense out of all of them."

"Are you surprised, _buir_?" Jango shot back as they followed the _Vod'e_ out of the armoury, "Helix is their medic."

"Well, thankfully, we planned ahead and had some meals brought up to their suite in advance," was the prompt reply. The _Mand'alor_ was definitely in a much lighter mood than he had been when he'd first spotted them.

Knowing that they'd made their _buir_ happy was a surprisingly nice feeling, Cody decided. Warm. "Good idea, _buir_ ," he put in. "Thank you."

General Kenobi radiated his mild irritation as they walked the short distance back to their suite, but didn't comment. Cody knew he was sure to be thinking something to the effect of 'they don't think I can take care of myself', so he ignored the body language. If his General had _actually_ been upset about it, he would have made his opinion known. 

Jedi High General Obi-Wan Kenobi was not one to hold his tongue when he felt something needed to be said. Not even now, when he'd effectively been flung back in time and reduced to being a cadet with no real power or influence to back up the knowledge and skill he had accumulated.

Cody grinned. His General could be lethal when he chose, even without the resources of the GAR and the Jedi Order at his back.

He'd always found that sort of competence attractive.

Shoving that thought aside, though, Cody had to remind himself that, no, Jedi Generals did not belong in relationships with their clone Commanders. And nevermind that he was fairly sure his General returned his interest. It simply couldn't happen.

It would be enough that he could hold his _jetii_ close when they slept.

It had to be.

Luckily for him, the door to their suite suddenly loomed up in front of him, and he gratefully unlocked it, pleased to be able to stop thinking about those somewhat painful topics and focus on getting his men and his General fed.

Leading the way in, Cody felt and heard more than saw his men herd the General in after him and their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ follow, shutting the door behind them. He headed straight for the 'fresher and started cleaning as much of the dust off his armour as he could easily manage. Moments later, two of his men and his General were in there as well, following suit in companionable silence.

Shortly afterward, having ditched their gloves and buckets, the ten of them were settled around their table, eyeing their meals. Cody poked at his with a spoon. It looked like some kind of layered baked dish? But it wasn't anything he immediately recognised.

Jango snickered at his expression. "Just taste it, _vod'ika_ ," he said, his tone half reassurance and half dare.

Wooley eyed his portion a bit skeptically, but obeyed, then coughed. "Wow, that burns. What is it?"

Their General answered. "If I'm not mistaken, that's _tiingilar_."

"Well spotted," Jango replied, "that's exactly what it is. You've tried it before, Ben?"

"Not the authentic kind only found here," the General said with a shake of his head and a slightly haunted expression, "but I have. It's... something of an acquired taste for most people, considering how spicy it is."

Wooley made a face. "You can say that again, General. It's good, though, once you get used to the way it feels like pouring hyperdrive fuel on your tongue and setting it alight."

Cody eyed his portion even more skeptically, but… he _had_ liked the -- clearly improvised -- version of this meal that they'd very occasionally gotten when Jango had visited Kamino. It seemed that their _ori'vod_ had always liked to eat it.

And had maybe continued to in remembrance of the home he'd lost.

Gingerly taking a small bite of his own, Cody winced. Hyperdrive fuel wasn't a bad comparison. Force, that burned.

Waxer and Boil picked theirs up next, and followed suit.

Boil nodded. "Yeah, that's the stuff. It reminds me of… " he paused awkwardly, glancing almost guiltily at Jango as though he couldn't help himself. "Well, Kamino _used_ to be home."

"I know what you mean." Waxer agreed.

"Kamino?" Their _buir_ asked. "Where is that? I'm not familiar with that name."

He didn't particularly want to have that conversation with their _buir_ \-- ever -- but Cody knew it would inevitably have happened at some point. He took a sip from his glass of water, then glanced down the length of his side of the table and up the other. Each of his men caught his eyes and nodded. When he got to their General, the man shrugged. _Your lead_ , he signed, _I follow._

Permission to speak freely granted and accepted, Cody set down his spoon and drew a steadying breath. "It's not going to be an easy story to tell," he said carefully, slowly, and immediately had both his _buir_ 's full attention and Jango's. "We've told you a little bit about ourselves. Who we are, and where we came from. You know that we're clones, and that Jango was our genetic template. Kamino was our home planet in the timeline we came from. It's where we were decanted, where we were trained. Where we learned, and where we were shaped into the men we are today.

"It's also," he paused to draw breath, "the place that holds the single highest density of bad memories and old nightmares for any _Vod_. It's the place that gave us our sense of duty and our drive never to fail." Cody could hear the bitterness in his own voice as he spoke those words. "But it's also where we learned our version of the _Resol'nare_ , how to fight, and how to _win_. Against the longest odds, if we have to."

Dead silence rang through the room on the heels of that statement, and the _Mand'alor_ had a slightly shell-shocked expression. As though he'd been caught in an emotional flash-bang.

Jango was the first to speak. "And your template… I was there with you?"

"Sometimes," Boil answered. "We're not sure why our timeline's version of you only showed up every few months and only stayed for short periods of time, but you taught the first batches personally and they passed as much as they could on to the rest of us. We learned most of the things we value most from you. Not from the _Cuy'val Dar_ or the longnecks."

Waxer nodded. "You were the one that taught us we could choose names. How to say our Remembrances properly. What honour was, and how to fly."

Cody picked up the tale once more. "If it hadn't been for you, we would never have survived our first minutes in battle, let alone years of war."

Their _buir_ cleared his throat, but his voice was still slightly hoarse when he spoke. "What do you mean, Jango taught you to pick names? Surely, you had them to start with."

Of course he would have picked up on that, considering the revelation that they'd picked his surname earlier. Cody bit down on a groan. This was surely going to horrify both of them. "My _name_ , the one that was given to me when I was decanted, was CC-2224."

"What?" Jango looked baffled. "What kind of a name is that?"

"It's a serial number," his General said quietly, "not a name."

"I chose Cody for myself. Eventually." Cody watched his _buir_ 's expression twist in pain, as he considered what he'd learned.

Waxer and Boil winced a little. Crys put in, "We had to keep our names to ourselves for the most part, until we got off Kamino. The longnecks saw most indications of _individuality_ as a flaw, and they were pretty ruthless about stamping it out. Other _Vod'e_ could be trusted, but anyone else? It wasn't until we met our Generals and got into the field that our names became more of a valued part of us rather than a weakness that might get us decommissioned."

His voice quiet, Cody picked up the thread. "So for a long time, for all of us, names were a thing to be treasured, but kept hidden away from the world at large. We're not used to thinking of them as something that should be celebrated openly."

Jango pushed back his nearly untouched plate with a sigh. "We should've waited to ask until after our meal," he complained grumpily. "I don't think I can eat this, now."

Helix broke his silence. "Eat, _ori'vod_ ," he said firmly, his medic's glare firmly in place. "And you too, General. Don't think I'm not watching you."

Cody watched Jango and his General exchange a glance filled with mutual understanding, then both gave in, to Helix's satisfaction and his own. He followed suit, taking another bite, more prepared for the punch to the face he knew was coming, then glanced up, "You should eat, too, _buir_." 

The _Mand'alor_ gave him an amused look, muttered, "You definitely take after Jango," and dug into his own plate of food.

For a while, there was no more conversation, all of them preferring to let the emotion of their first few minutes seated together fade away before they accidentally tripped any more hidden landmines.

Cody knew for a fact that his _buir_ hadn't expected to hear anything like the stories they had to tell about Kamino, when he'd asked about their home. It had been a question prompted by honest curiosity and a wish to learn more about his adopted _ad'e_ , and in the moment before he'd spoken, Cody had _hated_ the longnecks for giving him those tales to tell. Coming so close on the heels of his discovery that he took pleasure in making his _buir_ happy, he'd had to do just the opposite, and the knowledge didn't sit well with him.

"What will you be supervising this afternoon?" Jango asked abruptly, picking a topic he thought would be a neutral one.

The General answered. "I suspect the Masters will ask me to show off my physical mastery of the Force."

Crys and Longshot perked up. "Force jumps?"

"Among other things," General Kenobi confirmed, with an amused half-smile for their enthusiasm. "Probably a few other tests out of the standard assortment, like handstands or tightrope walking. Something that tests my fine control. Some Force pushes, some levitation. Nothing too special, I expect."

Cody scoffed. "Maybe not to you, but your audience will love it, General," he pointed out.

"Kark it, I wish I could get away long enough to watch," Jango put in.

"I'll happily show you personally, sometime when I don't have to worry about an evaluation," the General promised. 

Jango grinned at him. "I'm holding you to that, _vod'ika_."

The door chime interrupted the discussion there, and his General stood with a quiet sigh. "It seems I must get back to it."

Cody stood hastily. "Nice try, General, but you're not leaving us behind now."

General Kenobi gave him a long level look. "The lot of you followed me back in time through thirty years," he said softly, his voice holding a wealth of emotion Cody wasn't entirely sure how to decipher on the spot. "I have no idea what I did to deserve that kind of devotion, but I have no doubt whatsoever that you'll all stay loyally at my side for a long time to come." His General smiled wryly. "Whether I want you to or not."

Boil and Waxer laughed as they stood, themselves, and the rest of the _Vod'e_ followed. "That's about right," Boil agreed.

"We follow you," Waxer said, "not because you're a General, or a Jedi. We did at first, sure. Before we learned who you were underneath. We follow you because you're doing your best to keep us all alive, to get us all home at the end of the day. You care. Not just about the planets we get sent to, and their inhabitants, or the people the War hurt throughout the galaxy. But also about each and every _Vod_... and it doesn't matter to you that we all have the same face. The same build. You aren't put off by the fact that we're clones and the laws of the Republic say we shouldn't exist. Should never have existed. Do you have any idea how rare that is, sir? You shine like a karking star."

Caught off guard by that, by the sincerity in the words that had been offered in response to what he'd considered a quip, their General simply stared at them, speechless.

Their _buir_ shattered the moment by chuckling. "I believe this is when I get to say 'I told you so', Ben." He said smugly.

Surprised by that comment, Crys and Longshot started snickering. Cody turned and gave their _buir_ a long-suffering look. "We all have, many times, _buir_ ," he grumbled. "It never takes."

Shaking his head as the chime rang a second time, the General got himself moving, and then they were off. Again.

Cody and his _Vod'e_ settled themselves in their previous positions once more, prepared to waste another few hours on watch, amusing themselves as best they could while staying alert. They'd seen the General do everything he had listed off as possible tests so many times that this next session would be nearly as boring to watch as the morning's testing had been. Well, to him anyway. Longshot and Crys seemed to feel differently.

He welcomed it. The lack of excitement and familiarity of it would give him a chance to sort through the emotional ups and downs the day had brought.

The aftermath of that series of shocks reminded him strongly of the way he'd felt the last time he'd let General Skywalker pilot him anywhere, he thought wryly to himself, though at least he didn't have the adrenaline shakes, this time.

As he'd expected, the small group of spectators grew, now that the Jedi were actually doing something that was more interesting than talking, and most of the off-duty _verd'e_ had appeared in small groups to watch avidly. Cody spotted no few holos being taken when the Jedi Masters had his General leaping high enough into the air that he could have simply cleared the central building and come down on the other side. Instead, he perched on the very top of the roof briefly, poised on the ball of one foot, then launched himself even higher and into a complicated showy flip that had his cape fluttering dramatically around his armoured waist, before he let himself fall straight down to land lightly as a gossamer seed in the exact center of the training yard. 

Most of the watching _verd'e_ cheered and whistled at that.

The more impressive but less spectacular moves drew murmurs of appreciation, but no outright cheering.

And then, when the testing was done for the rotation at long last, he and the 212th moved down to ground level to collect their General so that they could make sure he replaced all those calories he'd just expended. Masters Windu and Jinn had already left, heading back to their borrowed quarters.

As he and the _Vod'e_ turned to leave, however, Master Dooku stopped them. "A moment, younglings."

Wary of what that might mean, Cody turned to face him. "Yes, Master Jedi?"

"I would speak with you, Commander, if you're willing."

"What could you possibly want to speak to him about, Master Dooku?" His General asked.

Cody could hear the slight tired rasp in his General's voice and it made him itch to get his _jetii_ back to their suite so he could make the _di'kut_ rest.

"You, Ben, should go get some rest," Master Dooku said firmly, echoing Cody's thoughts and surprising him. "Don't worry about your brother. I shall not harm him, nor will I allow harm to come to him."

Longshot eyed the Jedi Master. "I'm not sure I like this, Commander," he muttered.

"I _know_ I don't like this," his General declared. "The Masters are here to evaluate me, not you."

Master Dooku sighed, heavily. "Ben, your brothers are on edge and our evaluation is the cause. What your Commander said to us earlier was… unsettling, and I wished to offer an apology on my colleagues' behalf."

His General crossed his arms stubbornly. "You've just done so. Come, Cody. Let's get out of here."

Curiosity piqued now, Cody shook his head. "Master Dooku is right, General. You do need rest. And I must admit, I… I'm interested to hear what he has to say. I'll keep Wooley with me. You go with the others."

That didn't reassure his General one bit, but Cody was not in the mood to deal with his General's hovering right at that moment. "If we get into more trouble than we can handle, you'll know and come running. I'm sure of it," he said. "Now, go. We'll be fine."

Reluctantly, his General agreed. "Fine." Turning to Master Dooku, he issued one last warning. "If anything happens to my men there _will_ be consequences, Master of the Jedi Order or not. Rest assured."

With an amused huff, Master Dooku nodded. "Understood," he said, then watched as General Kenobi let the rest of the _Vod'e_ lead him inside the central building of the palace and towards their suite.

Once they were well out of earshot, Master Dooku turned to them and said, "Come, let us rest in the gardens while we speak. It is far more pleasant an atmosphere, and more private than this one."

The gardens, tucked away in a sheltered corner between the palace's central building, the northern wall, and the barracks, were often popular, but somehow right now the area was deserted.

Cody wondered whether Master Dooku had planned this out in advance. They were even reassuringly far from the windows of the suite the masters occupied, allaying his fears of being spied on somewhat.

Even more intrigued, now, Cody allowed himself to be led over to a tiny table set in a corner of the gardens. There were two chairs and two plates.

Master Dooku eyed it for a moment, then simply picked up both plates and moved to sit on the grass instead. "Please, join me," he invited.

When they did, sitting awkwardly opposite him, Master Dooku held the plates out to them until they stripped off their gloves and accepted the desserts.

Cody gave him a sidelong look. "No tea?"

"You dislike tea," the master answered. "I deemed it better to offer water or caf."

Wooley tilted his plate this way and that, his fork held delicately in his other hand, and asked, "So you're bribing us with sweets?"

"Well, I'd originally planned to indulge my sweet tooth and share with your Commander," Master Dooku replied easily. "But it would have been rude not to offer you some, since you've joined us at his request."

That had the ring of a diplomatic maneuver, and it seemed weirdly familiar. Cody eyed the Master. He'd seen his General pull very similar moves before.

Master Dooku watched him calmly in return.

"I'd like some of the caf, then," Cody decided.

Wooley watched closely as the caf was poured and offered to his Commander.

Master Dooku poured himself a cup of tea, then turned to Wooley. "And you, youngling?"

"Thanks, but no," Wooley decided, evidently preferring not to ingest anything while they were away from immediate support from Helix or their General. He also, Cody noted, hadn't touched the cake.

Master Dooku didn't miss that either, though he didn't comment on it. 

Another short silence hung between them. When he could take it no longer, he broke it. "So what are you after, Master Dooku? My General was entirely correct. You didn't need to get me alone just to offer an apology."

"You're quite direct," Master Dooku said, not answering the question immediately, and took a sip of the tea he'd prepared for himself. 

After a few long seconds, he replied, his voice measured. "What I want, youngling, is to enjoy myself training with your General. What I have asked you to join me for is a slice of cake and a conversation."

"A conversation about what?" Cody demanded.

"Your comment earlier. I assure you, I have no wish to see your General injured or worse, and nor do my compatriots, for all that they can be rather clumsy about their attempts to accomplish their goals. Both of them are still quite young, and somewhat impetuous. Master Windu shows much promise, but hasn't yet quite refined his approach as much as Ben clearly has. Master Jinn... well, my padawan has a bad habit of attracting blasterfire, even in situations that seemed to be entirely calm before he arrived."

Wooley snorted. "Sounds like someone else we know,” he said dryly. 

That was also a pretty good description of their own General, who had the inexplicable ability to walk into a room full of beings that had been relieved of their weapons and somehow still wind up getting into a firefight. 

Cody considered that and picked at his cake a little. It was very sugary. He wasn't sure he liked it.

"Alright, for argument's sake, let's say I believe you," Cody offered. "Why the kriff is Master Jinn acting like my General is a cadet he wants to see removed from service, then?"

"Master Jinn is exacting, but so am I. As they say, like master, like student," Master Dooku told him.

That didn't even begin to explain a karking thing. It made sense that a Jedi would take after the one who trained them. That, he could accept without a problem. But his General didn't act anything like his old master. General Kenobi had picked up Jinn's habit of solving disputes with his 'sabre, true. But he didn't act anywhere near as harshly toward his own former apprentice, General Skywalker. He didn't act with anything other than respect towards anyone that wasn't his sworn enemy -- and, sith-hells, he offered his enemies plenty of respect, too -- but Jinn seemed to think everyone around him was… lesser, somehow. And he treated them as such. 

"There's a difference between being exacting and actively trying to find fault, Master Dooku," Cody said slowly after he'd thought things through a bit. "You might feel you're being exacting -- and I agree that you have been -- but Master Jinn is _not_."

The Jedi considered that carefully, sipping at his tea as he did. It took a while for him to speak, and Cody picked at his cake some more in between sips of his caf. 

"Master Jinn has not acted outside the realm of what is considered reasonable by the Order, and his disbelief of your General's tale, while no doubt galling for you all, is not unwarranted. Ben is in a most unusual position, and it is a situation that the Order as a whole has never encountered before, to my knowledge. I believe my padawan will quickly learn that his reservations are not necessary, however, and then you will all have the satisfaction of hearing him admit that he judged too harshly, too soon. Master Jinn, for all his prowess in pulling off difficult diplomatic coups, is absolutely terrible in his attempts at subtlety and extremely curious about Ben."

Judging by his General's lack of surprise and outrage at the severity of Master Jinn's questioning during his evaluation, it was likely that either Master Dooku was correct in his assessment of the _jetii_ in question, or he and his _Vod'e_ were.

Or possibly both. They were not mutually exclusive options.

Cody nodded. "If he doesn't reach the conclusion you expect he will, Master Dooku? He'd best be prepared to face all seven of us. And _buir_ , and most of the _verd'e_ , for that matter... and for the sake of clarity, be aware that we do not forgive easily, if at all. Mandalore and the _jetiise_ have long been on... awkward terms. A renewed insult would not go over well."

The Master's next words were revealing. An olive branch in the form of extended trust. 

"I would expect no less from _mando'ad'e_. I will speak with him. And, in the interests of clarity, know that, regardless of his actions from here on out, he is the least senior of our party. His is not the deciding voice for our decision. It is Master Windu that young Ben must impress, Commander." Cody watched incredulously as a sly smirk tugged at the Master's lips. "I've already seen what I need to see."

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Letting Cody take Wooley and go _talk_ \-- the word came out rather scathingly, even in his head -- with Master Dooku had been tough. Waiting patiently for them to come back had been even worse.

After the first few minutes, in which he couldn't stop himself from pacing, Ben had found himself ambushed by the unit's medic and glared at until he sank down on the sofa. "Tell me you're not just as concerned," he grumbled. "Master Dooku may not mean any harm, but Cody doesn't know Jedi the way I do."

"No, sir," Helix replied with an exasperated huff, "I'm pretty sure he knows them better."

That brought him up short, and he thought about the way his men had responded to Master Qui-Gon's behaviour. And what they'd had to say about it.

Perhaps… Perhaps there truly was something to this that he hadn't seen. If his men truly felt that Master Qui-Gon was acting like the instructors they'd had on Kamino… that was telling. He knew his troopers. They didn't jump at shadows, despite the fact that the many traumas they'd experienced in their short lives should have meant they would.

Ben frowned. His old master had been doing things almost exactly the way he recalled from his apprenticeship.

He would need to meditate on this. He trusted his men implicitly, but what they were saying conflicted with years and years of his own experiences.

Helix, who'd been watching his expression closely, nodded. "We know, General," he said, misattributing Ben's frown to continued worry over Cody and Wooley. "We're not all that sanguine about letting the Commander do this with so little backup, ourselves, but the pair of them are good at what they do. They won't let themselves get hurt or taken without alerting you. You remember that 'emotional alarm bell' we use in the field?"

Oh. 

_Oh._

Nodding and taking a breath that hitched and tried to get stuck in his chest, Ben tried to make himself stand down, to come down off the edge of that ragged emotion he felt so keenly in that moment. "True, we do have ways to signal one another that wouldn't necessarily alarm anyone without the Force, but you must also remember, Helix, that any Jedi can hear that particular signal. It's very distinctive and quite loud."

Helix waved that objection away. "If you think Master Dooku isn't already mentally prepared to have you come bursting back into the scene, 'sabre blazing, to rescue your men, you're not thinking tactically whatsoever, General. Master Dooku will avoid that scenario like a loth-cat on a sinking raft tries to keep its feet dry. Viciously and with extreme prejudice. Even if his effort is not entirely successful, he will do his best."

Ben couldn't help snickering at the mental image of the Count as a loth-cat. "I suppose you have a point," he conceded. "Master Dooku has been very careful not to upset _buir_ or the _verd'e_ unduly. All three of them have -- which is somewhat unexpected considering how insistent they were that they come here and test my skills."

As he finished the sentence, the suite's door opened, letting Cody and Wooley into the space, then shut again behind them.

Ben relaxed into the sofa, relief hitting him unexpectedly hard. He suddenly felt rather more tired than he'd thought he was. "Commander," he said, unable to hide his smile entirely, "did you enjoy your chat?"

"It was quite informative," Cody replied with a nod. "Have you eaten, General?"

Ben tried to nod -- he'd had a few bites, it counted -- but Helix put his foot down. "Not nearly enough, Commander," the medic said, making sure that all the men could likely hear it, for all that he wasn't being loud, "but he did pick at his meal. The rest of us are done eating."

That made Cody frown, drawing some conclusions Ben knew probably weren't even entirely wrong. "Alright, come on, sir," his Commander demanded, "we need to get some calories in you. Wooley and I will join you."

Quite well aware that none of his men would let this slide, Ben decided that, this time, following his stubborn medic's orders was the better part of valour. Shoving himself upright and biting back a tired groan that would only make all of the men worry over him more, he let himself be steered gently into the troopers' dining room and into a chair. His half-eaten meal, which had seemed so unappealing before, suddenly smelled wonderful and Ben grabbed for his fork before he remembered his manners.

Cody sat beside him a moment later with a plate of his own and Wooley opposite them a beat later. They didn't bother with small talk, simply digging into their food with relish and expecting him to do the same.

He'd planned to pry the story of what Master Dooku had wanted out of them, once they'd all finished their meal, but his eyes closed against his will as the worry over his men that had kept him awake finally left him.

Half-aware, Ben felt Cody and Wooley silently pick him gently up out of the chair, strip his armour off him, and carry him over to the soft pile of blankets and pillows that he'd become more familiar with than his own bed, of late.

Neither of his men moved far, either. They stripped off their own armour and sat down on their little nest with him, reassuringly warm and solid and uninjured. Reasonably content in the Force, if tired.

"Rest, General," Cody told him. "We have the watch. _Morut'yc_."

That… was a familiar line. He remembered it from the clinic.

The thought that they were treating him as though he were one of their number and the affection that engendered made him smile and followed him down into a dreamless sleep. 

When he woke again, dim pre-dawn light washing the room in grey, the _Vod'e_ were all deeply asleep, clustered around him and Cody, who had ended up tucked in close to him as was his wont.

Ben found he didn't mind.

It was actually a bit worrying, just how little it bothered him. He was starting to crave these moments of peace and tranquility, latching onto them as a replacement for the serenity of the Temple, access to which he'd given up in favour of staying with his _buir_.

That was a terrible plan, and bound to backfire. He and his _Vod'e_ perpetually seemed to find themselves in the center of the galaxy's targeting reticle. Letting himself latch onto his men like that wasn't fair to them, for all that he _knew_ they would actively encourage him to do so, and was likely to get him into huge amounts of trouble if one of them got hurt or killed, which was really rather likely to occur, based on their experiences in either of the timelines they'd seen thus far.

Forcing himself to release his sudden tension with a silent exhalation when he felt the _Vod'e_ shift uneasily around him, as attuned to his mood as ever, Ben soothed them gently back into sleep. Just because _he_ was awake and thinking heavy thoughts didn't mean they needed to be.

Cody, closest to him, tightened his grip on Ben's waist and nuzzled at the nape of his neck.

Kriff. Ben shoved the sudden barrage of unhelpful thoughts of just how badly he wanted to return the gesture back _out_ of his mind.

No. It would be taking advantage, and he refused to do that.

Of course, once his mind had quieted again, the way his men had reacted to Master Qui-Gon floated back into his awareness. That had been something of a shock to hear.

That the _Vod'e_ had been under immense pressure to do well on Kamino… that much was common knowledge among the Jedi Generals. Ben had known it from the very moment he'd set foot on the planet and met the Kaminoans running the training facility.

But to hear Cody outright say that any _Vod_ who hadn't measured up had been treated like a defective part and _killed_! That was abhorrent in more ways than Ben could count, and sickened him, tying a knot somewhere in the pit of his stomach and making him swallow hard against the nausea.

It was little wonder that anything that reminded them of that experience would make them very uneasy.

That was very likely the source of their reluctance to trust in any medic who wasn't one of them, Ben realised. Their non-standard immunologies and metabolisms aside, every _Vod_ would know, bone deep, that going to a medic who wasn't a Brother was a risk with a capital R.

Worse, there would have been good odds, on Kamino, that getting sick or injured would have been counted as a mark against them and therefore been detrimental to their chances of graduating. Openly going to a medic -- no matter how valid the reason -- would have been tantamount to inviting their instructors to find fault.

Ben winced. In that context, it was hardly surprising that Kix and Helix had to chase after some of the more stubborn troopers to get them to hold still long enough to be treated. Such harshly learned lessons didn't fade quickly.

And, he realised, it was why the 212th and 501st were so adept at corralling him and Anakin. Why the _Vod'e_ in general all looked out for the pair of them and each other, tattling on each other when they noticed an injury or something else out of place.

 _You are mando'ad, now, and we take care of our own,_ Jaster's words echoed through his mind. Jango must have taken that sentiment to heart and passed it on to the clones.

Moreover, 'taking care of their own' must have included doing everything possible to keep the more overzealous and cruel of their instructors from giving out undeserved demerits. There was no way the _Vod'e_ , as tightly knit a community as they were, would simply stand back and let that sort of thing happen if they could possibly prevent it. Not if standing back might mean that a _Vod_ lost his life. Or worse.

Now, upon seeing what looked like similar patterns in one of the visiting Jedi Masters, his karking fearless Commander had stepped up, prepared to take all three of them on, toe-to-toe, with nothing but his wits and the six of his remaining men at his back, to keep _Ben_ from getting what he felt were undeserved demerits.

And had it only been his Commander who'd reacted like that, Ben might have dismissed it. Cody had been overprotective of him right from the start of their acquaintance. But _all seven_ of the _Vod'e_ had expressed similar opinions.

He'd asked them about it on their return to the suite, posing the questions as he paced and trying to be careful not to call up bad memories. He'd been searching for some distraction to keep his mind off Cody's conspicuous absence, yes, but it was also a topic that was important to him, because it was important to them.

All five of the _Vod'e_ present had agreed, and each had cited a different example and reiterated their belief that something was _off_. That, had the Commander not stepped up, one of them _would_ have.

In the face of that kind of conviction, that kind of selfless action on his behalf, the least he could do in return was try to step back, this rotation, and pay closer attention to the way all three of the Masters behaved towards him.


	11. Chapter 11

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

After the younglings had retired for the night, Yan sat in the garden, enjoying his tea while he mulled the conversation over. 

Young Cody had proven himself to be a far cannier commander than most professionals that Yan had ever met. He’d made sure that his General was surrounded by their men and escorted off to recover, while bringing himself at least one additional witness in case of betrayal. Nor did his second touch the refreshments. Yan had seen no sign of communication on the subject, which implied that this was old hat to them both.

No doubt young Ben had been mentally ‘watching’, keeping his mind open to signs of distress from them in the Force. After the revelations today, Yan and his fellow masters knew very well that such a feat would be breathtakingly easy for him. 

For all that, though, it was clear that Cody was no diplomat. He was blunt, refreshingly so. While Yan was more accustomed to dealing with those who obfuscated their motives with flowery words and layers of subterfuge, he did occasionally appreciate the simplicity of someone who got directly to the point.

Cody’s concerns were… troubling. 

Yan had noticed that Qui-Gon had been acting a bit on the patronizing side. It was also true that Qui-Gon was searching for fault in Ben; that was part of his purpose here, after all. They were counting on him to sense what they might miss. Small children experienced in bloodshed spoke of Dark dealings. These younglings might be under the protection and guidance of the _Mand'alor_ now, but it was clear to everyone who’d met Ben and his brothers that they’d been forced to do things that no child should. 

So Yan knew that part of Qui-Gon’s needling was indeed exactly what Cody and his brothers suggested it to be: the search for flaw.

Part of Qui-Gon’s subtle arrogance, Yan knew, had nothing to do with their current assignment and everything to do with Yan himself.

It was one of Yan’s many flaws that he had a tendency to be superior and snide with those he found beneath him. He could hide it when he needed to -- he was too well trained in politics to let such a bad habit get the better of him -- but he was by nature sometimes… a less than pleasant man to be around. He knew this. His younger years had been long and lonely, and his patience for fools was limited. There were days that it bothered him, but mostly it did not.

As much as he always desired to only bequeath his padawans good habits, Yan knew that was impossible. Qui-Gon was wildly different in character from him in most ways, but in this they tended to be similar. No doubt his padawan had picked up the slight tendency for condescension from him. 

Most were not bothered by this habit in Qui-Gon. He was a gregarious man. There was a warmth around him, and people often instinctively liked him, except for a small percentage that nearly instantly disliked him. 

It seemed that the brothers were among those who’d found instant dislike. 

The reasons for their sensitivity grieved Yan deeply. 

He finished his tea, nodded his thanks to the servants waiting to clean up their picnic, and headed back to the guest suite.

It was no surprise that Mace and Qui-Gon were up waiting for him in the sitting room.

“How did it go?” Mace asked.

“Very curiously,” Yan said as he took a seat in one of the open chairs. He settled back and stroked his tightly trimmed beard. “I think I like that youngling. He’s very smart, and fearless.”

The other masters waited for him to collect his thoughts. One thing that both Qui-Gon and Mace possessed was an abundance of patience. 

“Their past experience has left them… sensitive to any sign of negative bias, and incredibly hostile to the possibility that we might find their General wanting,” Yan said. “I suspect that such evaluations as the one we are doing would have been incredibly unpleasant for them in the past.”

“You know something,” Qui-Gon stated.

Yan raised an eyebrow at him. “No, but I suspect. And I am not so uncouth as to ask for details.”

Mace winced and Qui-Gon bit back a grimace. 

“I’ll admit, I could have handled that better earlier,” Mace said quietly.

Yan tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. Mace was very talented and very bright, but he was also very young. This would be a good learning experience for him as a new High Councilor, and the stakes were low. Worse things could happen.

“So, what?” Qui-Gon asked, shaking his head in frustrated confusion. “They expect that we’ll torture Ben if we find him lacking?”

“Padawan, just what do you think the word ‘decommissioned’ means?” Yan frowned. He was more irritated with the situation than he was with his former student. 

Mace leaned back in his seat and looked up at the ceiling. He took a long, slow breath in. “Kriffing sith-hells, if that means what we think it means… how many other little boys in their training group got executed for failing an exam?”

“I suspect that it does,” Yan said with a grim sigh. “I have no proof, and beyond the comment made to us today, the younglings haven’t spoken explicitly about it.”

“Which makes it more difficult for us to openly question them on the matter,” Qui-Gon finished for him. “Especially considering that the Jedi have no jurisdiction here. If this were a Core world, we’d have authority to do whatever we liked to get to the bottom of the matter, but we’re here on Mandalore as diplomats only.”

Mace gave Qui-Gon a sour look. “Even if we did try, the _Mand’alor_ would likely block us. He’s as protective of his newly adopted children as those younglings are of each other.”

“Precisely. Not to mention that a direct approach would likely only push them to silence,” Yan added. “They are trauma survivors. Until we earn their trust, they will not speak to us.”

“Or until they get desperate,” Qui-Gon said with disgust. He stood up and moved to stare out the window. 

Mace shook his head. “The _Mand’alor_ obviously cares for them. He’ll do his best to give them a good life now.”

“And in the meantime, they’ll be furious at us for doing our due diligence.” Qui-Gon turned to look at them and crossed his arms. His disgruntlement was tangible in the Force.

Yan stifled a smirk. 

“I think you’re getting more of that than either of us,” Mace said, amused. “They seem to particularly dislike you, my friend.”

“Wonderful,” Qui-Gon groaned. 

“I suggest that you refine your approach, my padawan,” Yan said. “Do not think of them as children that need to be guided. It will only irritate them all more.”

“I did notice that you seem to be having no issues with them at all.” Mace gave Yan a sceptical look.

“They are interesting,” Yan defended. 

Both Qui-Gon and Mace rolled their eyes. 

“You, my master, just want a new sparring partner who can actually keep up with you,” Qui-Gon accused good-naturedly.

Yan didn’t bother to deny it. “Regardless,” he said, changing the subject. From Qui-Gon’s smirk, the segue didn’t go unnoticed. “However irrational the children’s expectations are of the outcome of this testing, their worry is real. Under their anger is a very real fear.” 

The brothers’ anger and focus had enough presence in the Force that Yan had to wonder if they weren’t a touch Force sensitive. It could just be their will, though. Every one of them was ferociously disciplined. That would sharpen anyone’s mind.

Under that untamed, thrumming anger, Yan had felt deep seated fear, twined with grief. 

He held Qui-Gon’s gaze for a moment and then turned to do the same with Mace. “No matter what, we must remember that these are children who have been taught to fear for their lives, and that no one is safe. They have only each other.”

“The _Mand'alor_ \--” Mace started.

“Only just adopted them,” Yan said. “Such trauma takes time to heal. We are here to test young Ben, yes, but…” He clenched his jaw and then shook his head, releasing the tension immediately. “We cannot do more harm to them on top of what was already done.”

The silence that followed that was pensive. 

“And if they really are time travelers, sent back into their younger bodies by the Force?” Qui-Gon asked.

“That doesn’t change the fact that it’s our duty to help them,” Mace said firmly, nodding at Yan. “Jedi bring harmony and Light, when we can. Ben is young. No matter what we find, his life is not yet set in stone, and the Temple has healers aplenty.”

Since Yan was certain that it was highly unlikely that they would find anything Dark about any of those children, he held his peace and waited to see how his former Padawan would react.

Qui-Gon thought for a minute, and then nodded. “Point taken, Councilor. I will attempt to soften my approach.” His face twisted into a wry smile. “Though if the lot of them decide to try and assassinate me, I’m blaming the Council.”

“Noted, Master Jinn,” Mace said dryly.

Yan waved a dismissive hand at Qui-Gon. “All of those younglings are cautious. It’s unlikely that they’ll attempt anything unless they see you as a direct and immediate threat.”

The look that Qui-Gon gave him told him exactly where he could shove his thoughts on the matter.

Yan laughed.

\--

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

He didn't like to admit it, but now that his men had pointed it out to him, Ben could see all the little manipulations and hidden barbs Master Qui-Gon was throwing his way. He was fairly certain that none of them was intended or, in many cases, even conscious, but they were there nonetheless.

Going through every lightsabre kata of every Form was tedious and kind of boring, since he was used to the kind of intensity that came with going into battle with the _Vod'e_. Every movement was by rote, even if he did add his own flourishes for the sake of keeping himself at least halfway engaged rather than letting his mind wander too far. The comforting low-level buzz of his men, still stubbornly standing guard because they didn't like Master Qui-Gon's behaviour, lulled him further. They were keeping watch. He didn't have to. He could focus on the testing, and he was glad of that.

Or would have been, had the testing required any focus of him at all.

The Jedi Masters testing him barely spoke other than in the short pauses between Forms, and even then it was mostly to one another. The three of them alternated which one of them silently ran through the katas alongside him, depending on which of them was the most skilled in a particular Form.

This had the effect of leaving him to his own thoughts while he did every practice exercise he'd ever learned at the Temple. He did the Jar'kai katas with a borrowed practice 'sabre, having only a single 'sabre of his own, and those required him to concentrate a little bit more than the other Forms, but throughout most of the morning, Ben found himself observing the three Masters and reflecting on the ways they acted.

He hadn't wanted to believe it, certain of his own memories and confident he was right...

But, as the _Vod'e_ had said, it only seemed to be Master Qui-Gon who was using those little manipulations, and every time he did so at a volume the _Vod'e_ could hear, the buzzing in the Force spiked with their irritation.

Master Dooku's words remained largely neutral, though every so often Ben could tell he was impressed without needing to use the Force to read the Master. Mace, more often than not, simply gave directions rather than feedback, keeping himself as far removed from the process as he could manage, for the sake of not influencing the results of their evaluation.

And then, as though he'd hit the end of a tether, he snapped back into the present, aware he'd just finished the final kata of the final Form despite his utter distraction.

Saluting the Masters with his 'sabre and bowing, Ben disengaged his blade and reattached it to the clip at his hip. "I believe that concludes the katas you wished to see, Masters," he said, "perhaps we should adjourn for our midday meal?"

Master Dooku turned to Mace. "I, for one, am not against that," he said, his voice and way of speaking making even that light statement sound like a grave matter. "I find no flaw in young Ben's performance save a lack of polish in his Makashi and Jar'kai, both of which could be easily remedied."

"I find it hard to believe that an initiate could possibly do so well as Ben has, but he has performed admirably. We are even finished earlier than we'd expected to be." Master Qui-Gon was eyeing him like he'd defied all expectations again, in a negative way. Ben fought not to bristle.

Mace nodded. "Indeed," he agreed. "I believe we can adjourn for the day. I have seen what I wished to, and see no reason to prolong this phase of the testing."

Master Dooku nodded. "Nor do I, Master Windu." He turned to Ben. "I would, however, like to request that you and I spend some time training together, later this rotation, if you are amenable, youngling. Judging by some of those subtle changes you made to the standard katas you performed for us, you've developed several of them further. It would please me to see you demonstrate them in full."

Caught off guard, Ben blinked. He'd thought he'd stuck strictly to the standard movements despite his flourishes. "Which katas would you like to see in more detail, Master Dooku?"

"Any that you have adapted," the master replied with a slight smile, "but especially those pertaining to Soresu and Form V. You used an adaptation of both on Korda VI, if my memory serves me well."

"I'm certain something could be arranged," he replied with a bow as his men alit all around him in a flare of jetpack exhaust.

"General," Cody addressed him, "Masters Jedi. Are you finished for the time being?"

Master Windu gave him a level look, then nodded. "We have decided to call a halt until the coming rotation. Initiate Kenobi has completed what we asked of him rather faster and more efficiently than we had expected, despite the obvious distraction I could sense in him." 

Ben ducked his head a little. "Forgive me, Master Windu, but I could practically do simple katas like those in my sleep."

Cody snorted. "I'm pretty sure you have before, sir," he put in, dry amusement in his voice.

Master Dooku smiled, a brief flicker of amusement lighting his eyes and tugging at his lips and making him seem far less foreboding for the moment the levity lasted. "Well, now I am all the more curious," he put in. "Do come by our quarters whenever you are ready, young Ben. I shall be waiting," he said and bowed before he left the training yard without another word.

Ben watched him go, a trifle stunned. "Certainly, Master Dooku," he responded, not caring that he barely got an acknowledgement.

Master Qui-Gon was staring at his master's back as though he could wring answers out of the man with his eyes alone, and Master Windu glanced back and forth between his two colleagues with the expression of a man caught between an immovable object and an unstoppable force.

"You can do katas in your sleep?" Master Qui-Gon asked him, sounding caught between surprise and disbelief.

The _Vod'e_ tensed, and Ben felt their irritation rise up around him in the Force. Curiously, Master Qui-Gon didn't feel at all surprised. No, instead, he felt almost… well, calculating.

Ben suddenly felt as though he'd been confronted with a stranger wearing his Master's face.

Now that he was looking for it, taking advantage of his consular training and experience in difficult negotiations and awkward diplomatic situations, Ben could see the tactic for what it was, and it put a lot of their interactions of the past two rotations into a very different light. Master Qui-Gon had been fairly subtle about it, but every time he'd thought Ben wasn't putting in enough effort, he'd said something ever so slightly disapproving or disparaging. As though he could spur Ben into working harder that way. Once in a while, he'd tried to use his lingering disbelief to try to prod Ben into showing more of his hand, revealing more about himself, into doing better.

Now, listening to his old Master speak, Ben had to wonder: had he picked up that nasty habit? He hoped not. And he was fairly sure he hadn't. His men wouldn't tolerate that sort of behaviour. Had he picked it up, the trust his men had in him currently simply wouldn't exist. They were far too harshly conditioned to avoid people in positions of authority who behaved that way.

It said something about how used to that sort of thing that he must have gotten as a padawan that he hadn't even noticed it anymore by the end, simply accepting it.

It had taken a trip through time and an outside observer to make him see what was happening.

And now, kriff it, he could see it everywhere. It seemed like nearly every sentence his old master spoke contained a subtle dig or an attempt to fish for information or a hidden insult.

Realising he'd let a slightly awkward silence fall and stretch, Ben answered, as levelly as he could manage. "I probably could, but I wouldn't know if I truly had, now, would I? Being asleep generally means one is not conscious of what one is doing."

Mace chuckled. "Point goes to the initiate, I think, Master Jinn. And I must say that, while the idea of running katas in ones' sleep may sound amusing, I expect it would be quite dangerous to any passers by."

Ben grinned, enjoying his old friend's wry humour. "You may be right, Master Windu."

Helix muttered something under his breath, then put in, "You give yourself 'sabre burns, General, and I will never let you live it down."

That comment got them an outright laugh from Mace, and a narrow-eyed stare from Master Qui-Gon, who seemed to feel he was not being taken seriously.

Cody headed the Master off at the pass. "If the masters are done with you for the rotation, General, I'd suggest you come share a meal with us and then go see Ardanna. She hinted that she might have something for you, soon."

Brightening at the reminder that he would soon have new and much better armour, Ben straightened. He gave the two remaining Jedi Masters a polite bow and took his leave. "I will not keep you both from your own meal any longer, Masters. I wish you a good day."

He didn't wait for an acknowledgement from either of them, and felt the mix of amusement and affection that called up in his men.

It was amazing, he reflected, just how drastically his outlook on wearing armour had changed in the last couple of weeks. That had been helped along quite a bit by the Death Watch's attack on the clinic and the palace, certainly, but he'd found that he liked it a lot more than he'd thought he could, despite the way that it truly did weigh him down and restrict him, as he'd always known it would.

And with a Master Armourer working to help him perfect something new? Something designed _just for him_ with his needs and wants in mind? Ben couldn't help his broad grin. This could be fun. Just having a cape had already soothed a lot of his nostalgia for his robes. The surcoat Ardanna had sketched for him would certainly be even better.

He couldn't wait to try it out.

From a tactical standpoint, his Commander and the _Vod'e_ were certainly correct. He _was_ more vulnerable in nothing but Jedi robes, and it was certainly possible -- however unlikely, given his skill -- that someone could catch him off his guard and blast him. But not being able to move freely was something that he simply could not abide. Not for long.

The standard _beskar_ alloy plates he'd been given had worked out better than he'd thought in that regard, but even so, Ben knew they weren't the right fit for him. What Ardanna had sketched would be lightyears better, and he knew they would fine-tune it over the course of their acquaintance.

"You seem in a good mood, General," Cody broke into his thoughts as they approached the armoury doors once more.

"Is that something I'm not allowed, Commander?" Ben asked sardonically.

"No, just unusual, of late," came the reply. "It's good to see."

It _had_ been a while since he'd felt lighthearted enough to genuinely smile, Ben realised with a jolt. The War had been wearing him down, leaving him feeling tired and empty more often than not. He'd managed to put on a reasonable approximation when he'd spent time on diplomatic missions and the like, and spending time with Master Koon had consistently helped, but he'd been getting grimmer and grimmer, as they'd taken more and more losses. The way the Force had been warped and darkened by the fighting and death had gotten harder and harder to withstand, even with his loyal 212th at his back, all but radiating purpose and light like a beacon.

He had, in the two weeks since their accidental trip through time, managed to throw off most of that pain, though the scars, sorrow, and memories lingered.

Those too would gradually fade, the longer they were stuck in the past, he was certain.

"I haven't had much to be happy about, of late," he answered quietly, knowing the _Vod'e_ would understand what he didn't put into words. "Until we met _buir_... well. Suffice to say, I was struggling with the darkness in the Force as much as you were with the constant fighting."

The topic was dropped the moment they walked through the armoury doors, and took up what was becoming their customary position just inside the door.

Ardanna's amusement rang out clearly in the Force. "With how often I see you, _verd'ike_ , I should just apprentice the lot of you and let you stay here," she said as she approached, "but I do appreciate your enthusiasm for my craft."

Boil laughed. "We know armour and how to care for it, but smithing?"

Waxer shrugged. "We'd be a disaster."

"All apprentices are, the first time they try," Ardanna dismissed that argument. "It was meant as a joke, but if you wish it..."

"We'll think it over," Longshot agreed. "Knowing how to fix our gear properly or simply make new parts wouldn't be a terrible idea."

"Where would we find the smithy, though?" Crys countered. "That's impossible aboard a ship like the _Negotiator_ or the _Resolute_. There's simply no space left over for one."

"Doesn't mean we couldn't find one where we make port, though," Wooley said thoughtfully, and Ben could almost feel the longing in him.

"Personally, I think it's a wonderful idea and would be a great skill for at least one of you to pick up," Ben put in, explicitly putting his seal of approval on the plan.

Cody nodded thoughtfully. "We'll definitely think it over," he agreed.

"Now," Ardanna said with a brisk nod, "what was it you came here for? It certainly wasn't to accidentally apprentice yourselves to me."

Cody nudged him gently with an elbow, and admitted, "Mostly, we wanted to get away from the training yard, and coming here to ask after the General's ideas for his armour made for a convenient excuse."

Laughing delightedly, Ardanna shook her head. "All the more convenient seeing as it's true and everyone knows it, I'm sure. You're a wily one, little Commander. I approve."

Cody grinned back at her, pleased.

Before he could say anything Ardanna continued, "I haven't specifically got anything new for your little General to look at as far as his armour itself is concerned, but I've managed to source a pair of boots that might suit better than what he's wearing."

She turned to one of the nearby workbenches, bent to grab something that had been placed underneath, then straightened again and offered him a pair of boots that looked startlingly similar to the ones he was used to.

Ben accepted them with his free hand, his bucket still tucked under the opposite arm. "They look far more comfortable than these heavy ones," he commented.

"Put them on, try them out, let me know how they suit. As you saw in the sketch, the boot uppers will be partially covered by your greaves, so it may take some adjustment to get the positioning of those plates just right," Ardanna informed him.

"Right," Ben nodded, committing that to memory.

Their business -- spurious though Cody had admitted it to be -- concluded, the eight of them left the armoury again and made their way up to what Ben was starting to think of as their suite. He did sometimes miss having his own, but having his men close had been helping immensely with his usual insomnia.

And theirs as well, if his suspicions were correct.

They weren't posting guards or staying awake through the night anymore, now that he was staying with them. They continued to be wary, well-aware that their proposed security updates had either not yet been implemented or were being run by _verd'e_ who hadn't the experience in spotting the signs that they did, themselves.

It was subtle, and Ben had no idea when the men would have found the time or the materials, but the _Vod'e_ had made some changes to their suite. Wire mesh behind the louvers on the air vents and added security on the doors and windows, among others. Knowing their ingenuity when it came to improvising such things was second to none, Ben suspected that there were likely also gas sensors and a few pressure plates scattered around the suite that would set off an alarm under specific conditions.

Ben had seen Crys pull off some genuinely impressive things with the tech in his vambraces on Cristophsis. That _Vod_ knew his electronics. All of them had learned the basics, Ben knew, but Crys was the best of this little group.

Once they'd gotten past their door, the _Vod'e_ relaxed.

It felt like a sigh, in the Force, and it made Ben raise an eyebrow at them. Clearly his men felt secure here. 

Setting his new boots down beside the door, Ben found himself utterly unsurprised when he looked over at his Commander and saw the _Vod_ cue his comm, and immediately get Jango on the line.

"You guys breaking for a meal, _vod'ika_?" Jango guessed, and they could all hear his smile.

"We are. You interested?" Cody caught his eyes and smirked.

Ben wanted to groan; his Commander knew him too karking well and seemed to be well aware that he wouldn't have to do more than ask and Ben would join them for that meal, just so he could spend time with them.

"Let me check in with _buir_ ," their _ori'vod_ answered. "I'm free and can come join you whenever, but I think he might be tied up in the council chambers again. Once I know I'll have some plates sent up for all of us. How many of you are going to be there?"

"All of us," Cody looked him directly in the eyes, then added, "Every _Vod_ is present and accounted for. See you soon, _ori'vod_."

Speechless, Ben didn't move for a moment.

Waxer sniggered. "I think you broke him, Commander."

"Give the General a little credit," Boil defended him, "you know how he gets when anyone hints about attachment. Just because all of us know he's an honorary _Vod_ doesn't mean he's comfortable with the idea."

Longshot stepped up behind him and to his left, opposite Cody's usual spot, and gave him a little shove toward the Commander, who was smirking at him. Ben shook off his surprise and let his men cluster around him. "You all felt this way long before _buir_ claimed us," he said quietly, knowing he'd strike true. "The entire kriffing 212th."

Helix snorted. "More like the entire 7th Sky," he said, "and it took you long enough to figure it out that we got tired of waiting, General."

He seemed to be acquiring a wealth of new family members and discovering those he'd already had anew. Ben reached out, using a touch of the Force, to compensate for the fact that his arms weren't long enough, and gathered them all in close. "I may be forbidden from letting myself get attached," he admitted quietly, as they all made sure they could offer him a comforting touch in return, "but forbidding others from getting attached to us doesn't seem to have occurred to the Council. I find I cannot in good conscience attempt it, myself. All the moreso, seeing as we're properly family, now, and I am not part of the Order for the duration of our stay here. But you must know that when we manage to get back to our proper places in time, I will not be permitted to continue to claim you as family."

"Maybe not out loud," Cody said, spotting the loophole that would let him get what he wanted, "but you are our _aliit_ and we are yours, regardless of whether we can openly acknowledge it."

Jango and their _buir_ picked that moment to enter, breaking them up, and the _Vod'e_ immediately swarmed the pair of them as well as the pair of servants behind them carrying heavily laden trays.

This time, unlike the one the previous rotation, their meal passed without incident. Their _buir_ had looked at them curiously a couple of times -- probably wondering what he and Jango had interrupted when they came in, Ben suspected -- but he hadn't asked. After the way his last very innocent question had gotten him an answer he hadn't wanted to hear, asking another likely wasn't too high up on his list of wants.

Ironically, Ben thought, this time he would've enjoyed hearing the response.

None of the _Vod'e_ volunteered the information, though, so Ben didn't either. Nothing had changed except his own perception of his men, after all. This was nothing that would directly affect their _buir_ or Jango.

So instead they talked about whatever other topics came up. The _Vod'e_ avoided mentioning anything to do with their opinions of the visiting Jedi Masters, though they were full of little stories about the skills that Ben had shown off that morning, and how his Jar'kai had looked a lot more impressive than Ahsoka's.

Jango had asked who this Ahsoka was, and that had gotten him an earful, much to Ben's amusement, as all of his men but Cody started laughing and telling all the best stories they knew about Anakin's padawan and the trouble she got up to.

Cody, though… Ben caught his Commander's eyes and gave him a nod. Cody felt melancholy and Ben knew why: he missed Rex.

Just as Ben missed Anakin because his former padawan complemented him perfectly in so many ways, Cody missed his _Vod_. On first glance, the infamous Captain of the 501st with his well-earned jaig eyes, creativity in battle, and lively sense of humour seemed like he should be the kind of _Vod_ that would drive someone as regimented and precise as Cody absolutely insane, but the two were thick as thieves.

And, while Ben didn't know the story behind their fast friendship, he knew it had been cemented long before he'd met either officer.

Cody gave him a half-hearted smile in return.

Cody had lost all access to his friends and support network just as surely as he had himself, Ben realised belatedly. Simply having a few of his men at his back wouldn't suffice to replace that, even if those six had already been among Cody's most trusted _Vod'e_ to start with. Resolving to keep more of an eye on his Commander than he had been and a little bit ashamed that he'd missed that, Ben smiled back, and that was that.

The stories kept their _buir_ entertained until the time came for him to go back to mediating arguments between the fractious council members, and Jango followed him out of the suite with a weary sigh that drew a sympathetic chuckle out of the _Mand'alor_.

"Just you wait," their _buir_ quipped, "someday this will likely be your job."

Jango's reply was rude and to the point. 

The _Vod'e_ snickered as the door shut again behind the pair of them. Ben couldn't help but think that Jango would be miserable trying to do his _buir_ 's job.

He could do it, and he'd probably do it well, but he would hate every minute of it.

A short silence fell, and then the _Vod'e_ turned to him.

"So when are you going to show off to Master Dooku?" Crys joked.

Ben gave him an amused look. "It's not showing off," he said mildly, "Master Dooku wishes to discuss the finer points of lightsabre combat."

"If you say so, General," Crys said a bit dubiously, "but it sure sounds like showing off to me. Back me up, here, Longshot. If you were going to tell Helix all about the improvements you've made to your rifle and technique, and how much better you are at hitting your target because of the changes… that's showing off, right?"

Longshot shrugged. "Well yeah, a bit."

Ben gave them a narrow eyed look and felt the sense of resignation Cody was projecting. Letting his men dig their own graves, Ben realised. They were trying to wind him up!

And it had nearly worked, too.

"So you're saying," he said slowly, keeping his tone as innocent as he could, "that I shouldn't go demonstrate the techniques that work well for me and that I've refined over the last year and a half in pursuit of keeping you all alive, because it would be immodest?"

Crys and Longshot both started stammering, and Waxer and Boil fell against each other, laughing.

"You should know better than to match wits against the General, Crys," Helix said with a grin. 

Ben smirked to himself as the _Vod'e_ continued to rib one another and turned to pick up his new boots from their position beside the door, then exchanged them with the ones he was wearing.

Ardanna had been entirely correct with her warning, he noted. The way the boot uppers got in the way of his greaves was really rather irritating him. Removing the greaves as well and setting them aside, he fastened the boots and stood.

"Ready to go, sir?" Cody asked him.

"When you are," Ben shot back, not doubting for a moment that they would insist on accompanying him in this, as well.

Promptly as ever, the seven of them were formed up behind and around him, ready to take on the galaxy for his sake, if needed. Force, but he didn't deserve them.

Reminding himself that it was their choice to offer him this sort of devotion, and that he would just have to continue doing his best to be worthy of it, he tugged his bucket back into place and settled it firmly on his head, then led the way out of the suite.

The eight of them quickly made their way to the suite that had been set aside for the use of the visiting Jedi Masters, and then were joined by Master Dooku for the short trip back down to the training yard.

"So, younglings," the Master said in his deep grave tones, "how shall we proceed?"

Ben considered that for a moment, then took off his bucket and tucked it under his forearm, deciding to let the Jedi Master see his face for this part of the discussion. "I've changed and adapted the signature moves of just about all the forms I commonly use," he replied carefully, "but, as you've correctly deduced, the ones I take advantage of most frequently combine Soresu and Djem So, since I most commonly encounter enemies that attack with massed blasterfire. It's difficult to demonstrate the full potential of that particular combination outside of an actual battle, however, as the primary objectives I have are not only to shield the men behind me, but also to whittle down the enemies in front of me."

Master Dooku nodded. "You did something similar during your training with your men last rotation, though, did you not?"

"Blaster practice is an exercise we use to let our General blow off steam and our men work on their coordination for group tactics," Cody put in. "It's more for fun than serious practice."

"The principle is fairly similar, though, that's correct, Master Dooku," Ben added and nodded back. "And you did say you wished to learn that, yourself, I believe."

"I did. Perhaps this would be the opportune moment to begin." Master Dooku surveyed the gathered _Vod'e_ and smirked. "If you are willing to humour an old man."

"Hardly old," Ben grinned back. "Commander? I'll explain to Master Dooku how it's done, and we'll do a short thirty-second demonstration, and then it will be his turn."

"Sure, why not. And don't worry, General; we'll take it easy on the old man," he quipped, daring to tease just a little.

Giving his Commander a level look, Ben turned back to Master Dooku, who wasn't smiling but clearly radiated his amusement at Cody's willingness to play with fire. "The principle of the move is very heavily based in Soresu's defensive nature, similar to the Circle of Shelter. Rather than merely defend, though, it mixes in the Barrier of Blades, which allows the swordsman not just to block incoming blasterfire but also redirect it."

Master Dooku hummed thoughtfully. "I believe I understand. Very well, please do your demonstration. I should like to watch you do it once more before I make the attempt to reproduce such a move."

"Certainly," Ben agreed. "For your own attempt, I would suggest starting out with the Circle of Shelter and simply absorbing the shots until you feel comfortable enough working with my men to try deflecting the shots. We would all appreciate it if there were no injuries."

Mater Dooku gave him an amused look, this time. "I'm sure," he said simply, tone droll. 

Ben turned to Cody. "Shall we dance, Commander?"

His Commander drew his blaster and saluted him with it, mimicking the salute Ben gave them with his 'sabre. "Anytime, General."

Moving into position, cramming his bucket back on and igniting his lightsabre, Ben settled into his customary ready position and waited. He felt the lightest brush against his shields in the Force and knew Master Dooku was watching him manipulate the eddies and currents around him, rather than his blade, which was less important.

An instant later, the first shot flew at his head, fired by Helix, and Ben easily sent it into the ground at his feet.

Three more followed, one-by-one, in quick succession. All three struck the same spot on the ground as the first.

Falling back into his ready position, Ben straightened. "Will that suit as a demonstration or would you like to see it one more time, Master?"

"I think I would like to try my hand at it," Master Dooku decided.

"Very well," Ben accepted that and the _Vod'e_ shifted their weight, giving the impression of anticipation and glee in the Force at the idea of having a new opponent to play with. "Rules of the game are as follows: ready guard position begins and ends the rain of blasterfire. The longer you continue, the more intense the game becomes. My men are accustomed to sending coordinated salvos at me, but will hold off on that today, unless you explicitly verbally request otherwise."

Taking the hilt of one of his 'sabres in hand, Master Dooku stepped carefully into the center of the waiting _Vod'e_. The blade hissed to life, and both sides offered a salute, and then they were off. Master Dooku, who'd clearly been watching carefully, followed what he'd seen demonstrated scrupulously, and the _Vod'e_ obliged him by gradually stepping up their attacks.

The tempo slowly picked up, until they were moving at about half the speed they normally did with Ben, and held there. 

Master Dooku never misstepped. Every shot was either blocked or deflected. At the outset, as Ben had suggested, he'd simply stuck to absorbing the shots with his blade, but it hadn't taken him long at all to choose a spot at which to deflect the shots coming at him. To Ben's amusement, he'd picked the scorch mark Ben had previously made on the ground during his short demonstration.

After a few minutes, Master Dooku called a halt, coming up into the ready position, then eyeing the _Vod'e_ thoughtfully. "Have you and your brothers ever practiced against an opponent who uses two blades?" He asked, his tone apparently idle.

"No," Cody answered, "we haven't. Are you offering?"

"Perhaps not right here and now," Master Dooku told him, "but after the evaluation is over. I would prefer to consider how best to adapt my own preferred forms to such an exercise before attempting to follow through."

"It took me many months of practice to truly master this technique with just the one blade," Ben said. "That seems like a very sensible approach."

Master Dooku gave him a disbelieving look. "Ben," he said, his words slow and weighted, "what you have developed here is not simply a new technique. This is the basis of an entirely new lightsabre Form, and I have no doubts at all that your other adaptations complement this technique perfectly."

That… wasn't true, was it?

Ben stared at the Jedi Master blankly for a moment, surprised by the observation and the certainty underscoring Master Dooku's words. "I… Not consciously? Master."

"Yes, that does seem to be somewhat of a recurring theme in our discussions, doesn't it, youngling. Remember to practice mindfulness, not just as regards your environment, but yourself and your own actions, as well. It is not only our comportment in battle or negotiations that is important, but also where knowledge and teaching is concerned. And you? You have much to teach us. I, for one, am looking forward to hearing what wisdom it is you have to impart."

Master Dooku bowed, first to him and then the _Vod'e_ who'd formed up behind Cody, that time. "I shall take my leave, now. I wish all of you a good evening and thank you for the demonstration."

Ben watched him go, mind racing.

 _Had_ he really created a whole new Form without even realising it? Their blaster training exercise was certainly innovative by Temple standards, and it did take advantage of new signature moves he'd come up with by cobbling together elements of others he knew before polishing and refining them.

And Master Dooku had been exactly right in his guess that the other such combinations he used often complemented the one he'd just demonstrated.

Now that he had the leisure, it would perhaps be worth truly collating all the new 'sabre techniques the war had taught him and reflecting on them.

It seemed he'd inadvertently followed Mace's example, he mused, then shook off the thoughts. "Do you want to keep training for a little while, _Vod'e_?"

"Be nice to get to move a bit after the long day we've had," Boil said in a tone that suggested he thought Ben didn't want to stick around out on the training yard.

"Then that's what you will do," Ben told them. "I should think on Master Dooku's words, but you seven have free rein to do as you please, while I do that."

Cody considered him for a few moments, then accepted that. "Alright, men, you know how this works," he said, the snap of command in his voice. "We'll run some field drills and cardio. Best not to tire ourselves out. There's still one more day of this evaluation left to go."


	12. Chapter 12

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

When Yan walked back into the guest suite, Qui-Gon was gone, off with the ruling council answering more questions. Mace was alone, staring out of the window that overlooked the training yard. 

Ben’s brothers were down there on the field running what appeared to be drills, while Ben meditated off to the side. Even running simple training exercises, the children were impressive. Their flawless coordination and the casual way they took on challenges that would make others pale put just about any other group of warriors to shame, despite their young age. It was as awe inspiring as it was unsettling, even here on Mandalore, where such skills were prized and taught to any youngling who wished to learn them.

“What do you think?” Yan asked, knowing that Mace would understand what he was asking. 

“I think you’re right. Kid’s a master already.” Mace shook his head. There was just a touch of incredulous appreciation in his voice. “As reluctant as I am to admit it…”

“Yes. Perhaps he wasn’t misled about being from the future.” It was ridiculous. Impossible. 

But it made sense given the evidence.

“All things are possible with the Force,” Mace said with amusement. 

Yan had to nod in agreement. 

They watched the younglings dash around below them, firing their blasters with shocking accuracy. Even adults would be proud to show such skill. For children it was more than astonishing.

“What kind of future lies in store for us?" Mace asked quietly. "That it could successfully turn Jedi into generals is by no means a pleasant implication.”

Yan thought about all of the signs of corruption in the Senate. The way the rich and those closer to the Core garnered more favors and support than those poorer and farther away. He thought about how choked the Senate had become with greed and darkness, and the violent dreams that his dearest friend Sifo-Dyas sometimes had.

He thought about his frustrations with the Jedi Council, and how set in their ways they’d become. Of all the Councilors that could have joined him, he had been pleased that Mace was the one to do so. He liked that young man more than most of the other members. He was young enough to be flexible, and stubborn enough to insist on getting things done. Yan had high hopes for him.

Yan crossed his arms and allowed himself to truly feel the ever present buzzing emotion of the young warriors practicing in the field. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, “but it worries me.” 

“Yoda would tell us that the future is always in motion,” Mace said thoughtfully. 

“And what would you say, Master Windu?” Yan raised an eyebrow at him.

Mace had the unusual ability to see how to break things. Not just physical items, but moments in time as well. Shatterpoints, the young master had called them. Instances where a single decision could change the course of history.

Yan was quite curious what Mace saw now.

“That, Master Dooku… That I’ll need to think on.” 

They watched the training below them for as long as the younglings stayed on the field.

\--

Breakfast was eaten quickly that morning. Yan was more than a little excited to get onto the training field, and he knew that Mace was feeling the same way. Both of them were duelists. It was in their blood. 

Qui-Gon took one look at them both and laughed. 

“Time for the fun stuff, is it?” he asked, still grinning. There was just a touch of sarcasm in his voice. He was a fair hand with his 'sabre, but he didn’t live for it like Yan and Mace both did. 

“Think of it as a reward for hard work,” Yan said with as much dignity as he could muster. It was likely ruined by the smirk he found impossible to hide, but he made the effort.

Qui-Gon just rolled his eyes, and shook his head. 

Mace didn’t even bother weighing in. Always the somber one, he kept his amusement to just a small twitch of his lips. 

Cody was more than a little surprised when they presented themselves at the youngling’s door earlier than usual, but he quickly masked it. 

“The General is still eating breakfast,” Cody said coldly. It went without saying that he would ensure that Ben was able to finish his breakfast unhindered.

“Good,” Yan said with a pleased smile. “Would you prefer that we wait in the training field, or may we join you while you get ready?”

Cody narrowed his eyes slightly and gave them all an evaluating look, lingering on Qui-Gon. Though his expression was well schooled, his irritation was a tangible thing. 

“Wait here,” he said, and then shut the door on them.

“Well,” Qui-Gon said, unimpressed.

“Peace, padawan,” Yan said. “We are very early, and we’ve been running Ben quite ragged. Young Cody is justified in his hesitance. Besides,” he gave Qui-Gon a sidelong look, “I, for one, would definitely like them all to be clothed before we walk into the room.”

Qui-Gon had the grace to wince. “Point taken, Master.”

Amusement rippled from Mace, and Yan held back a smile. 

Only a couple of minutes later, Cody opened the door again.

“You can join us for tea while the General finishes his meal,” he said, though it was clear from his scowl that he would have preferred to send them on their way. 

Just as Yan took a step towards the now-open door, Cody stepped into his personal space, blocking the way. 

“And the General will be finishing all of his meal,” he said quietly, looking up at them with cold eyes. “It will not be cut short, nor will he be eating lightly. You will adjust your plans so that this is no trouble for him this morning.”

The implied threat was real, Yan could feel it. Cody could and would be dangerous to those who might harm his brothers.

Rather than instilling worry, it had rather the opposite effect for Yan. Mostly, he was amused. He _liked_ this little warrior. Bold as brass and twice as hard. 

“Good,” Yan said firmly. “He’ll need his energy for the day. While young Ben is finishing his meal, we will explain our plans for the day so that he, and you, may plan accordingly.”

The hostile buzzing in the Force calmed down and Cody tilted his head in acknowledgement. He waved them in.

All of the brothers were sitting around a large table, with Jaster Mereel and Jango Fett as well. 

“Masters,” Ben said with a nod. Before he could even move to stand up to greet them, Jaster’s hand was pushing him back down. 

“Eat,” Jaster said pointedly.

Ben sighed. “You are all motherhenning me. I’m not going to waste away,” he grumbled, though he also took another bite.

It was a hearty meal, Yan was pleased to see. 

“They are wise to counsel you to care for yourself, young Ben,” Yan said as he sat down at a hastily added chair. 

Ben gave him a sour look, but Helix just gestured with both hands at Yan while also staring right at Ben. Then he sat upright like he’d been stung, and looked to Yan with shock. Almost like he couldn’t believe that he was agreeing with a Jedi. Strange.

“Eat well,” Mace added. “We’ll start with a round of meditation to help your meal settle, but you’ll need the energy.”

Ben raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Today we spar,” Yan said with a grin.

Ben froze for a moment with wide eyes, and then immediately applied himself to his meal. His enthusiasm must have been a surprise, because that netted the Jedi even more questioning looks from Jaster and Jango.

“Well, this will be fun to watch,” Boil said with a grin.

“Right?” Waxer sported a matching expression and leaned into Boil’s side.

“I’ll be on standby,” Helix said.

“Sparring?” Jaster asked. “All out?” He glanced between the Jedi and Ben.

Ben shook his head and worked on swallowing his bite. “We’ll lower the power on our 'sabres so we don’t accidentally kill each other.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Jango muttered. 

“If they’re anything like --” Helix snapped his mouth shut and cast a furtive look towards Ben. “Times past,” he finished lamely. “Then we’ll only have to worry about sprains, bruising, and maybe a broken bone. But watching the General go all out is pretty fun.”

Yan was not the only one to raise an eyebrow at the aborted sentence. 

“Fun for me, too,” Ben said in between bites.

“Damn. I’m sorry I’ll miss it.” Jaster shook his head and went back to picking at his meal. It looked like he and most of the brothers were almost done. Ben still had a plateful to eat, and right when it looked like he was making headway, Helix reached across the table and shoved more onto it.

Ben scowled at him, but didn’t object. 

“You all look like it’s Life Day come early,” Jaster said.

Cody grinned at him. “Just try to get a few minutes break now and again to watch out the window, _buir_. _Jetiise_ are all ridiculous.”

“Five creds says that the general can take two of them at once,” Longshot whispered to Crys, as if none of them could hear him.

“Kriff you and your sucker bet,” Crys whispered back. Wooley nodded in agreement.

Yan chuckled silently, and waited patiently for the meal to conclude. 

Qui-Gon made polite chatter with Jaster about the current negotiations with the council, while Helix gamely attempted to shove as much food as humanly possible down Ben’s throat. 

“Enough,” Ben said, pushing himself back from the table. “I need to actually be able to walk to the training yard.”

“You’ll burn it all off in an hour,” Cody said dryly. 

The whole group of younglings made their way into one of the bedrooms, likely to finish getting their armor on.

“Thank you for allowing us to intrude upon your morning,” Mace said to Jaster.

Jaster shook his head, dismissing the thanks. “I’m glad you came in to explain. Ben would have worried if you hadn’t.”

Yes. Ben did seem to be a touch high strung. Yan was reminded of the things that Ben had said about his master, and wondered. 

Ben had said that his master was dead, but if he truly was a time traveler, then that meant that his master was likely alive now. It was clear that Ben was a Temple youngling, too. He knew too much of how life worked there to not be. 

Yan himself was terrible with most younglings, but he knew others who were more adept at dealing with sensitive children. Perhaps it was time that Yan made inquiries with the crèche masters and those who oversaw young knights. Whatever they were doing now clearly wasn’t enough. Somehow Ben had managed to come out of his padawanship with some rather harrowing stories, and his casual disregard of his past treatment implied that the problem was systemic. 

It was something to think about.

Once all the boys were ready, Jaster and Jango excused themselves for their daily duties, and the rest of them headed eagerly down to the training halls. 

As had become usual, the brothers took their positions around the training area, always watchful. Qui-Gon gave them an uneasy look as they went. Again, Ben slipped easily into the group meditation. Sharing his connection to the Light while giving away nothing of himself. That alone was the mark of a master. 

When they rose, they did so together, with each of them brimming with excitement in their own way.

“I claim first round,” Yan said, grinning.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Ben said with a sly smirk and half bow. 

“How about you both warm up first,” Mace said dryly.

Qui-Gon snorted. Without another word the four of them moved into a basic kata. That, too, was another clue that Ben had been trained at the Temple. The warm up kata were all practiced on the same beat, regardless of which Form one chose to participate with. It meant that even though they were doing different moves, each with their favored Form, they all moved in perfect synchronization. 

Ben’s brilliant blue 'sabre glided through Soresu, while Yan’s primary cobalt blade spun through Makashi. Mace’s purple lightsabre went through the dangerously complicated Vaapad, and Qui-Gon’s green floated through the jumps of Ataru. As they moved, Yan stretched out his senses, and he could feel the others do so as well. It honed their movement, perfecting the beats of the warm up.

Nothing in the universe felt quite like Jedi working together in tune with the Force. It was like holding hands, but more intimate. Like bathing in sunlight, but warmer. Light flowed through them, binding them together as parts of a universal whole. 

All things were one, in the Force. 

So it was as natural as breathing that as soon as the warm up was done, Ben and Yan turned on each other, immediately flying into the fight without any other indication of what was coming. They already knew. Just as Mace and Qui-Gon knew to step away.

That first bout moved quickly. Both of them were fresh and eager. They teased and tested each other’s boundaries. This time, Yan didn’t start easy. 

Ben’s Soresu really was flawless. 

The bout ended with Yan getting Force flung into a wall clear across the training field. Right before he could hit, Mace caught him with the Force and lowered him easily to the ground. This was one of the benefits of practicing with other masters present. They could keep an eye on the participants and minimize the damage. 

“Well played, youngling,” Yan called out as he jogged back over to the rest of them.

“It’s almost reflexive, now,” Ben admitted. Even though his helm hid his face, the wry humor was evident in his voice and in the Force. 

“Maybe you should try that on someone who likes to be in the air,” Qui-Gon said with an easy smile. He lit his 'sabre and spun it.

Ben gave him a gracious bow. “As you like, Master. I live to serve.”

Yan was very proud of his padawan, but he knew better than most what Qui-Gon’s weaknesses in combat were. It seemed that Ben could spot them easily as well, since he ruthlessly aimed for them. The lowered elbow on the outward swing. The tendency to ignore defense in favor of attack. Qui-Gon couldn’t get his blade past Ben’s impeccable defence, while Ben bided his time and snuck into the cracks in Qui-Gon’s form.

That bout ended faster, and with Ben’s blade at Qui-Gon’s neck. 

“Your turn, Master Windu?” Ben asked. 

“Water, then yes,” Mace said sternly. None of them were fooled. He was having just as much fun as the rest of them.

They all took a moment to refresh themselves.

“Care to try something a little more dangerous?” Mace asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh? Do tell, Master Windu.” Ben smiled at him. On an adult, it would have been flirtatious. On Ben it was mostly hilarious.

“Ever do blind fighting?” Mace untied one of the sashes around his waist. Additional layers were a standard part of any knight’s kit. One never knew when an extra scrap of cloth would be needed for a tourniquet. 

Ben’s smile turned to an outright grin that nearly split his face. He didn’t even answer, he just set his helm near their water bottles and wiggled his fingers in a _gimmie_ motion. 

“I’ll get yours, young Ben. Qui-Gon, make sure Mace’s is on well enough,” Yan said, stepping forward and untying one of his own sashes. “Might as well make this impartial.” He allowed dry amusement to leak into his words, making them more joking than serious.

“Quit making your opponents take off their clothes!” Cody yelled from his rooftop perch.

“It’s a valid strategy!” Ben yelled back, nearly cackling.

Mace pinched the bridge of his nose while Qui-Gon snorted. Yan smothered his own amusement and went about settling the sash into an effective blindfold. After a moment of fumbling, he had to take a knee to tie it properly. He wasn’t a short man and Ben was small for his age. 

By the time he was finished, Qui-Gon was done with Mace. 

Murmurs rose up from the edges of the field. Yan suddenly realized that they’d gathered a small crowd. Mandalorians, most of whom were in full armor, stood on the sidelines and chatted amongst themselves.

Such an audience was inevitable. They’d had watchers the last few days, and today would be significantly more entertaining. Since much the same thing happened in the Temple, Yan wasn’t overly concerned. Warriors of all kinds enjoyed watching other fighters practice their skills. Even if they weren’t of the same discipline, some things transcended race, culture, and creed. 

Ben and Mace stepped into the middle of the open space and struck up their starting poses. Silence fell over the area. 

Blind fighting was something every knight was trained in. First, because it was a useful skill. Second, because it was a way to practice being more in tune with the Force. As such, a Jedi who was blinded would never be at as much of a disadvantage as a normal fighter. 

Sparring like this only emphasised the connection to the Force. The fight became less one of martial skill and more one of mental control. 

Yan sidled over to Qui-Gon, keeping a careful eye on Mace and Ben. 

The silence stretched.

All at once, both Mace and Ben flew into motion. Vaapad was an unpredictable Form, and required a deep connection to the Force. The attacks were fast and vicious. It had none of the elaborate movements that some of the other Forms maintained, and always struck for the weakest part of an enemy’s body. 

Joints, pressure points. Nerve bundles and structural weaknesses. These were what Vaapad took advantage of. Where Shii-Cho or Ataru went for killing blows, Vaapad went for painful ones. To use Vaapad was to ride the line between Light and Dark, because the Darkness wanted their enemies to suffer. 

Combined with Mace’s ability to see shatterpoints, Vaapad was a devastatingly effective Form.

But Ben’s defense was durasteel-clad. There were no openings for Mace to flow into.

Back and forth they moved across the field. The blows were so fast that it was difficult to see them and the air hummed with the sound of 'sabres clashing. 

Ben’s perfect Soresu was blended with Djem So, another defensive form but one mostly used in lightsabre combat. His blocks and parries were followed up with stinging counter attacks, each one utilizing Mace’s own strength against him.

They flowed like water. The energy used in each attack was passed back and forth between them, with Mace always pushing, using his superior height and reach, and Ben slipping forward and around him. Each move was calculated to make Mace do the work for him. Every time Mace closed the distance, Ben brought them even closer. He pivoted and circled, brushing in closer than anyone Yan had ever seen dare to before, until Mace had to give ground to maintain effective distance. 

After a particularly sharp parry, both of them jumped away from each other, breaking the energetic stalemate. 

They were both grinning.

“You are a slippery little demon, aren’t you?” Mace called out. He used the short pause to shake his shoulders out.

“I’ve been told that being slippery makes everything a little better,” Ben said innocently.

Yan’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Qui-Gon covered his mouth with his hand to hold back a snicker. There were several barks of laughter from the warriors watching.

Mace dropped his head back for a moment and groaned. “Ben, you are _twelve_.”

“Going on thirteen!” Ben answered gleefully, and dashed back into the fight in an attempt to take advantage of Mace’s momentary distraction. 

It seemed to work, because Mace was immediately wrongfooted. Not enough to lose him the fight, but enough that Ben pressed his advantage. Instead of waiting for Mace’s attacks and redirecting their momentum back in a counter, he flowed right into Mace’s space, always moving to keep him off balance.

“You know, I’ve never noticed how _tall_ you are!” Ben said conversationally, just as he ducked under Mace’s swinging arm. 

“Maybe you’re just short,” Mace answered back.

The fact that they both could talk at all during a fight like this was _monumentally_ impressive. It wasn’t just the physical exertion that would have kept the vast majority of people silent, though that was a factor. It was their sheer effortless ability to stay connected to the Force, anticipating the other’s moves while also attacking at blinding speeds, and all without their vision.

“You all are going to give me a complex,” Ben good-naturedly griped. “The three of you, I swear.”

“I’m definitely gonna give you something.” Mace growled. His renewed focus rippled in the Force, and his counters strengthened. Vaapad drew some of its power from the Dark side of the Force, and anger was a tool in Mace’s arsonal. Both his own and his opponent’s. This was one of the reasons Vaapad was so rarely taught. The temptation to Fall was too great for most.

His blade seemed to blur, coming at Ben from all angles at once. The air lit up around them purple afterimages as Mace’s bombardment continued. Ben was forced back. His defense flowed into a variation of what Yan had seen the day before; something like Soresu with the whirling defense of Djem So, combining into something greater than the two. 

Their 'sabres cracked together at a near constant tempo. They couldn’t keep this up for long. Something would have to give.

Then Yan noticed something. With each step that Ben retreated, he seemed to... brighten. First, as if he were standing in strong sunlight, and then flood lights, and then even brighter still.

The Force. He was gathering up the Force around him, using each sweeping block and counter as a conductor for kinetic energy. Mace in contrast looked Darker and Darker to Yan’s mental eye. Vaapad used Dark emotions, those of the practitioner and of the enemy, but Ben was denying Mace that advantage. There was nothing Dark for Mace to steal.

Ben’s slow steps back caught Yan’s eye. Something about them tickled at his brain, and he found himself leaning in to try and catch every second of the fight.

That’s it.

Ben wasn’t being forced back by Mace. Ben was _baiting him_.

As soon as the realization hit Yan, it must have hit Mace, too. 

Mace tried to break off his attacks, but that was the moment Ben had been waiting for. Power and Light exploded out of him in a localized shockwave, knocking Mace back so hard that he lost his guard entirely and slammed back into the ground.

Hard on the heels of the wave of Light was Ben, jumping in an overhand strike that would have done any Ataru master proud. The point of the blade stabbed into the ground a mere inch from Mace’s head.

The quiet was deafening, broken only by both Mace and Ben’s heavy panting.

Both 'sabres turned off with a soft humm. Ben huffed out a laugh and sat down, right on Mace’s chest. Soon he was giggling like a loon. Mace started chuckling, too.

“Spectacular, initiate Kenobi,” Mace said, pulling off his blindfold. 

Ben took off his own as well and stifled another snicker. “Well, that was fun.”

Mace pushed him gently, just enough to rock him. “Off, demon. Get back up so I can kick your ass properly.”

“Oh, was that not a proper ass kicking, Master Windu?” Ben asked with wide innocent eyes.

Yan and Qui-Gon both stepped forward to help the two of them up, and Yan found himself grinning just as hard as Mace and Ben were.

“We need to do that again,” Mace said. “Next time, you do it to one of them. I want to see it in action.”

“I am getting a drink of water,” Ben said, still breathing heavily. “Otherwise I think my medic will actually light me on fire with his eyes.”

“Me next,” Qui-Gon said, grinning. 

“Agreed,” Yan said quickly. “I want to watch that again, and then try it myself.”

Today was going just as well as he had hoped.

\--

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Jaster had arrived at the council room early enough that he had time to watch the _jetiise_ warm up. 

He could honestly say that he’d never seen anything quite like it, and he’d been raised in a warrior clan. Fighters doing line drills shouldn’t look that elegant. With the flowing robes, or in Ben’s case his cape, and the shining jewel-like lightsabres, they looked more like they were dancing than fighting. As if there was some music playing that only they could hear and follow. It was barely light outside. Dawn’s first rays hadn’t touched the yard yet, though it was light enough to see. The 'sabres shone like beacons and every swing almost seemed to draw the sun up a little more.

It was more than a little awe inspiring. For a moment Jaster wondered what Ben’s home temple would be like. Did they train in empty wooden salles filled with robe clad students, all lined up in perfect harmony? Was it a green place, where they trained surrounded by nature?

Maybe one day he’d ask. If he ever found the time.

So far, everything he’d heard about Ben’s younger years had filled him with either rage or sorrow. But watching Ben with the three masters now… maybe it hadn't been all bad.

Chieftains and council members drew his attention long before he wanted them to, and soon the morning was lost in a sea of testimony and negotiation. 

While Ben and the _jetiise_ masters had kept themselves occupied, Jaster’s _verd’e_ had caught up to Montross. He’d disappeared after the attacks on the palace and the clinic.

As Jaster had suspected, Montross hadn’t called in the _verd’e_ for back up at the clinic as he’d requested. That alone was suspicious. Further investigation had proven that Montross had reassigned several patrols, allowing Death Watch access to key areas of the Palace. 

Jaster had immediately ordered his detainment. It had only taken his _verd’e_ two days to catch up to him. They'd found him on a rented starship headed towards Mandalore’s moon, Concordia. 

Concordia was covered in mountains and forests. The primary strategically and economically important installations found there were the _beskar_ mines. The moon was also sparsely inhabited, with abandoned or partially abandoned settlements scattered all over; the combination would have yielded any number of hidey holes for Montross to disappear into. 

Concordia was also under the control of the Vizsla Clan. And now Jaster knew that Tor Vizsla was alive and thirsty for rule. He had the Darksabre, an ancient heirloom blade created by the first Mandalorian ever inducted into the Jedi Order and passed down in his family from _buir_ to _ad_ for centuries. It was one of a kind, and had become a symbol for warrior leaders.

To Jaster’s great disgust, it had taken little effort to get Montross to confess to his betrayal. His now-former second in command had railed against Jaster’s supposed favoritism of Jango, and piled on abuse about his new _ad’ike_. Especially Ben.

Montross had stood before the council and admitted without a single ounce of shame that he’d conspired with the Death Watch. He'd spat venom at them about how _real_ warriors wouldn’t align themselves with sorcerers and pacifists. 

It had been easy enough to declare Montross _dar’manda_ and strip him of any rights as a _verd_. The New Mandalorians had wanted him prosecuted for the deaths caused in the attacks. 

Jaster personally thought it was a pity they couldn’t consider a good old fashioned firing squad. 

Still. The information gained from Montross gave the council and chieftains a whole new set of things to argue about. 

It meant that Jaster really didn’t have any time to stand by and watch his _ad_ spend the day stabbing _jetiise_. Sadly.

Throughout the morning, the guards stationed at the windows kept glancing out. There were strange flashes of light, and on a couple of memorable occasions, thundering booms. 

Jaster kept his comm discreetly on, getting text updates from his _verd’e_ about the training. Nearly every warrior who wasn’t actively on duty was down below watching the spectacle. He’d requested several of them take holo vids for him.

He’d never hated politics so keenly as he did right then. 

Lunch came and went. Since it seemed like they actually might be getting somewhere, refreshments were delivered to the council room and the group kept working. 

Sometime in the late afternoon, Jaster caught movement outside of the window. 

He had to do a double take. The council room was several stories up. There shouldn’t be anything moving out there. 

Sure enough, several yards out beyond the transparisteel he saw Ben’s diminutive form rocket past, cape fluttering in the breeze and blue 'sabre blazing. Hard on his heels was Jinn, his blade held in front of him like a spear. 

Jaster’s jaw dropped. They could not possibly be fighting mid-air like that.

Someone was in the middle of asking him something and he had to wave them off. He _had_ to see this.

“One moment, councilor,” he said distantly. “I need to…” He waved at the window and hurried over to watch what the kark was even going on.

The exchange that he’d caught a glimpse of had landed them on the side of one of the neighboring buildings. They didn’t stay there. The moment Ben landed he kicked off again across the yard, parrying backwards as Jinn followed hard on his heels. 

“They don’t have jet packs,” Chieftain Adonai said in awe. He’d joined Jaster by the window. Another glance to the side showed that nearly everyone else in the room had joined them.

Ben and Jinn exchanged blows as they bounced back and forth between the buildings. How they were even able to strike at each other mid-jump, Jaster had no idea. Ben had his helm on, but Jinn was grinning like a maniac. 

Cody must have gotten annoyed, or maybe there had been a comm from their general, because Waxer shot his grappling line from his rooftop perch down across the open space. It fastened off on the building across the yard, and he quickly anchored his end to the roof that he stood on.

The line went straight through the area of attack, and on the next pass through, both _jetiise_ landed on it, light as a feather. 

Jinn took a careful step away from Ben, holding up both arms for balance. Ben did the same, but paused to salute Waxer with his 'sabre. Waxer waved back. 

Jaster dearly wished he had comm audio for what the _Vod'e_ were saying, because it was bound to be interesting. Cody had to be either bursting with pride or swearing up a blue streak at Ben’s lunacy. Maybe both. 

The thin line wobbled in the breeze and both _jetiise_ crouched down, bringing their 'sabres up to the ready.

“They’re not,” one of the councilors whispered.

Jinn and Ben exploded into movement at the same time. Jinn leapt up with his 'sabre in both hands while Ben dashed down low. 

On a karking _grapple line_.

“They are,” Jaster said. He couldn’t quite close his mouth. The spectacle in front of him was too incredible. 

It seemed that Jinn prefered to be in the air as much as possible, because he bounded and jumped at every opportunity. Every single time the line whipped back and forth wildly. 

Ben stuck to it like a burr. He ran up and down the length, blocking and countering every attack. When the movement of the line got too frantic for that, Ben started _sliding_ back and forth, one hand on the line and one on his 'sabre. 

He couldn’t be knocked off, and none of Jinn’s attacks were getting through.

Jaster almost had a heart attack when Ben’s body circled under the line. But the little _jetii_ didn’t fall. For a moment it looked like he was walking on the bottom of the wire, but no. He’d hooked his feet on the line and was holding himself up like that. Jaster found himself pressing his hands to the cold transparisteel in a vain attempt to get a closer look. 

How the hells they weren’t cutting the damn line, Jaster had no idea. 

Just as Jinn dropped down to sit on the wire and hang from his bent knees, Ben heaved himself up on core muscle strength alone. Then he was the one walking on the wire, with Jinn dangling precariously. 

That didn’t last long. Jinn flung up his empty hand and Ben was tossed backwards, hit by an invisible blow. He somersaulted and landed several feet back, while Jinn spun himself back up on the line. 

They stood on guard for a long moment, both balancing as best they could on the unstable line while the wind clearly picked up.

Ben must have said something, because Jinn was laughing. From the tilt of Ben’s helm and the shake of his shoulders, he was laughing too.

Over the past few days, Jaster and his _verd’e_ and his aliit had watched the _jetiise_ test Ben like he was an ignorant child and not the seasoned warrior that he obviously was. It insulted them, and while Jaster had kept his peace, he’d heard unhappy rumblings from his warriors. 

This type of sparring changed things a bit. It was obvious that the _jetiise_ were finally treating Ben like an equal. They’d dropped their aloofness to actually crack a smile and enjoy the fight. That was something the _verd’e_ could appreciate. Plus, it was a good show.

Ben stood up straight and drew his blade up in a vertical salute. This caught Jinn off guard, and he tilted his head in confusion. 

With a single downward swipe, Ben cut the grappling line and they both fell. The look of dismay on Jinn’s face was almost comical. 

Ben’s cape billowed out around him like wings as he fell. 

Jaster pressed further into the transparisteel window as he followed the descent. Even though he knew it was irrational to worry about Ben falling, his heart still caught in this throat.

Ben twisted as he landed, hitting the ground kneeling with one fist pressed into the dirt. A little whirlwind of dust spread up around him like a shockwave, and Jinn was knocked off his balance before he could even properly stand up. 

How the hells Ben had accomplished that, Jaster had no idea. The two _jetiise_ weren’t even touching. It was like Ben’s presence had expanded out of him in a wave. 

_The karking Force_ , Jaster thought with awe. 

No wonder _jetiise_ were feared throughout the galaxy. From the murmurs of the chieftains and councilmembers around him, they were thinking the same things. 

“Little gods, and I thought my girls were a challenge,” Chieftain Adonai said, shaking his head. “ _Mand'alor_ , you are gonna have your hands full in a couple of years.”

“I think he’s got his hands full right now,” Chieftain Razi said. “My _verd’e_ are saying that he’s flirting with those _jetiise_ as he’s mopping the floor with them.”

Jaster did not cover his face with his hand, but he badly wanted to. He did press his lips together to hold back the wince. The sparring had been going on since dawn, and the crowds around the field were pretty thick. It looked like every off duty _verd_ and a good half of the palace staff was perched in every available space, watching like this was a sporting event. 

“Ben is a character,” he said eventually. There were a few snorts of amusement around him.

Before he could say anything else, his attention was drawn back to the fight below. 

Jinn was a damn tall man, and he was using his reach to his advantage. Each blow rained down on Ben like a hailstorm, fast and brutal. Even though Ben was blocking effectively, he wasn’t close enough to actually hit the older _jetii_. The high attacks kept Ben from jumping up and out of the way, too. 

Then Jinn’s overhead swing crashed straight down to the ground as Ben shot forward _dashing between Jinn’s legs_ to escape. The rhythm of the fight was completely broken as Jinn looked down and around in confusion. Meanwhile, Ben was already a dozen feet away behind him.

When Jinn finally turned and spotted him, he threw his head back and laughed and tossed up his hands in defeat. Ben’s shoulders were shaking from mirth. The gathered crowd was laughing hard enough that Jaster could hear it through the windows. Even the other two _jetiise_ were grinning, though it looked like Dooku was shouting something at Jinn.

There was even some cackling in the council room. 

“Well played, _ad_ ,” Jaster said to himself. 

Any and all amusement dried right up as Ben took off his helm and _staggered_ in place.

Jinn was by Ben’s side first, but Helix was there a second later, pushing the older man aside with callous disregard. A second later, the other two masters and the _vod’e_ converged on their general. 

From the look of things, Helix was giving everyone around him a solid bitching out. Ben was flapping his hands dismissively at everyone, looking weary but annoyed. Cody had already taken off his helm and the look on his face could have peeled paint, it was so caustic. 

The council room grew quiet as they waited and watched. 

Another minute went by as Helix looked Ben over and the other _vod’e_ took up a defensive perimeter around him. This, too, looked practiced. It did not escape Jaster’s notice that the visiting _jetiise_ were not included inside that perimeter, though they were at least allowed within talking distance. 

“Good little _verd’e_ , aren’t they?” Chieftain Razi asked quietly.

“They’re brilliant,” Jaster confirmed, both proud and worried. 

Then the _vod’e_ started herding Ben out of the training area with the _jetiise_ trailing behind. Ben was still walking, so whatever had happened couldn’t have been that bad. Jaster took a deep breath and tried to get his stomach to unknot. 

“ _Mand'alor_ \--” someone started, but Jaster waved them off.

“If he’s walking, he’s fine.” Jaster was trying to convince himself as much as everyone else. He shrugged. “And if he wasn’t, I think his _vod’e_ would have promptly taken out any possible threat,” he said with a grimace. “They’re… overprotective.”

He heard a snort of amusement behind him.

“That’s an understatement, _buir_ ,” Jango said. He was there watching Jaster’s back as he let his attention focus on the field below. 

Jaster turned and smiled at Jango, squeezing his shoulder to let him know that his efforts were appreciated. 

As several chieftains turned and looked ready to jump down Jaster’s throat for answers, Jaster held up his hand and shook his head. 

“My _ad’e_ will let me know what’s happened. If it was urgent, they would have commed me immediately. Or just started firing. Jango?” he said, looking at his _ad_ again.

“I’ll keep my comm open. If I don’t hear from them in an hour I’ll go looking,” Jango said with a nod.

“Good.” Jaster turned to look around at those gathered. “Shall we get back to it?”

\--

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

He'd enjoyed watching his General kick the three Jedi Masters all over the training yard. He could freely admit that and fully intended to boast about it to any _Vod_ he could, the moment he and his men were back where they belonged in the GAR.

But _kriffing sith hells_ , his General could be an oblivious _di'kut_.

After the final match, he'd watched his General stumble, which was a danger sign to anyone who knew him well. Their graceful General only stumbled when he was teetering on the knife's edge at the very limits of his stamina, on the verge of collapsing.

Helix had sworn a blue streak. "Commander --"

"Go," Cody answered tersely, even as he gathered himself to catch General Kenobi himself. "He's pushed too hard again."

Before he could even make the jump down to ground level, Helix was already there, physically shoving Master Jinn out of his way so he could check on his General and scolding him as he did. "-- told you once, I've told you a hundred times," Helix was saying as Cody touched down. "You can't let yourself do this."

Cody took his bucket off out of habit. That was something he nearly always did when he approached his General outside of battle, even if it was only long enough to catch his eyes and make sure he was feeling alright.

Cody offered the concerned-looking Jedi Masters a glare -- they really should have known better than to let the General pull this kind of stunt, no matter the fun they'd all been having -- then turned the look on his General and added his voice to Helix's. "We're not at war right now, General," he said firmly. "You don't have to push until you hit your limits, so _don't_."

The General glared right back at him. "Do you have any idea when the last time was that I got to have this much fun, Cody? I wanted to enjoy it."

"Even so, my young friend," Master Dooku interjected firmly, "your Commander is entirely correct, and we are at fault here. There are three of us, and there is only one of you. We really ought to have considered that."

Master Windu looked properly chastised. "A very valid point. We all got a bit too caught up."

Helix huffed at them. "It's all well and good that you recognise that, but now we have to deal with the aftermath," he sniped, and watched them all wince with vindictive satisfaction. "Come on, General, start walking. We need to get you cooled down properly and then cleaned up, preferably before you fall over."

Their stubborn General looked like he wanted to refuse, so Cody simply grabbed for the General's bucket, crammed it into his hands, and physically turned him toward their suite. "You're not getting out of this," he said, "march."

His General gave him a sour look but obeyed. "You're overreacting," he stated, apparently still under the impression that they had no idea what danger signs to look out for.

Maybe Kenobi himself didn't, Cody thought irritably as the _Vod'e_ formed up around them and the Jedi Masters trailed along behind them, more concerned than his kriffing General was about the fact that he'd overextended himself. That one of them was Master Dooku only made the irony all the more striking.

"An overreaction implies that what happened was minor," Helix said scathingly, not caring a whit that they still had an audience in the form of the three Jedi. "You, General, have been pushing yourself to your limits and beyond for weeks, and I'm through letting it pass without comment. If we were aboard the _Negotiator_ , I'd have you temporarily relieved of command and _kriffing sedated for a few days_."

The General gave him an alarmed look. "Helix, what--"

"No, I'm pulling rank, here, as your CMO," Helix snarled, bordering on furious. "You've been neglecting your own health for kriffing months! While we had ground campaigns to run, I could look the other way, because otherwise we'd have literally been overrun, but here and now? No. I won't allow it."

The General's pole-axed expression was making Cody want to laugh despite the seriousness of the moment. Kenobi had finally found the limits of their medic's patience. It was kind of impressive that Helix had held out this long, frankly.

The stunned surprise made it all the easier to steer General Kenobi into their suite and then through into their dining area. Cody caught Longshot's attention with a tilt of his bucket and without a word he and Crys took up positions at the two exits, blocking them. The rest of the _Vod'e_ busied themselves assembling snacks that their medic would fairly easily be able to coerce the General into eating, while Helix himself set to work bullying the General into drinking some fruit juice, and then a glass of water.

Cody, well aware that it would ease the tension in the room somewhat if his General wasn't the only one being taken care of, simply grabbed for some of the food and drink and handed it to Master Windu. He was assuming the _jetii_ would figure out what to do with it, true, but it seemed likely to work out. Cody accepted Master Windu's thanks with a nod, then went back to keeping a close eye on his General. The three Jedi were watching silently for the moment, but Cody knew that -- for once -- all three of the masters were very firmly in their camp and would step in to tell the General to eat and drink.

It almost galled him to admit that Jinn was actually being helpful, but Cody knew better than to poke that sleeping gundark. So long as the laserbrain was willing to lend them his support and work with them rather than against them, Cody wouldn't glare at him.

Once General Kenobi had finished drinking the first glass of water, Waxer handed him a plate of snacks and pointed him at the table. "You're probably fine to sit down without your muscles cramping, now, General," he said cheerfully, and got a glare for his troubles. "Why don't you and the Masters have your snacks at the table?"

"That is a wonderful idea," Master Dooku accepted before the General could protest the idea. "Come, Ben, and tell us what your impressions of our styles are. We've spent the last two days quizzing you about yours. I should like to hear the other side of the story."

Master Windu nodded. "And I would like to know who taught you to taunt your opponent like that."

That comment got an amused snort out of most of the _Vod'e_ , who knew karking well that the General had picked up the habit all on his own, his natural inclination to sass any and everyone finding an outlet in trying to distract his opponents by running his mouth.

For all that they teased him mercilessly about it, the entirety of the 212th privately thought it was hilarious and looked forward to hearing him verbally lay into whomever it was he was fighting that day. 

The three masters, oblivious to the way Cody's thoughts were wandering, settled themselves in seats at one end of the table, positioning themselves so that they would all be able to comfortably speak to one another without having to lean awkwardly to make proper eye contact.

The General, looking like he resented the verbal snare he'd been caught in so neatly, growled something under his breath at Waxer but he joined them, letting the masters draw him into conversation about the various stunts they'd pulled off.

It didn't take long for the conversation to become animated, and Cody nodded in satisfaction, watching. All four of them continued snacking as they talked, and that was exactly what he and his men had wanted.

With a suddenness that was startling for all that they'd been expecting it, the General fell asleep between one sentence and the next.

No further cue needed, Cody watched as his men sprang into action, carefully scooping their General out of his chair and carrying him through into the bedroom.

Taking charge, Cody stepped over to the three Jedi, who had been watching the proceedings with varying degrees of amusement, and pulled his bucket back off his head. He tucked it comfortably under his arm and caught their eyes one-by-one. "We appreciate your willingness to help corral our General, but take care that this does not happen again. We had expected better of three experienced Jedi Masters."

Master Windu winced, but accepted the rebuke. "We can't really do much besides offer our apologies once more, Commander," he said solemnly, standing and pushing his chair back.

"At least some good came out of your kark up," Cody answered with a shrug. "Helix can harangue him more effectively. Now, long experience with my General tells me that you likely have a report to make to your Council. As you're planning to speak to the _Mand'alor_ and _his_ council in about fifteen hours' time, you no doubt have much to discuss and a holo-call to place."

Giving him a surprised look, Master Windu nodded. "That's not an inaccurate assessment."

Master Dooku stood as well, at that. "No, it is not. Come, my padawan, we should take care of that call while we have the peace to do it without worrying about whatever we must do next, to keep our promises to Ben and the _Mand'alor_ 's council."

Master Jinn made a skeptical face, but stood, and the three Jedi masters filed back out of the dining area. Cody followed them to the door of the suite, seeing them out. "A good rotation to you, Masters," he said, knowing his tone was a bit pointed.

"Likewise," Master Dooku responded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "And please do not hesitate to ask, if we can be of further assistance."

Caught off guard by the unexpected offer, Cody simply nodded. Without another word, the Jedi Masters left, heading back to their own suite, in all likelihood.

Cody watched them depart, lingering just long enough to see them turn a corner at the end of the corridor, then shook off his surprise and stepped back into their suite. He had a General to help ride herd on.

And, a thought struck him, he probably ought to comm their _buir_. They'd only really been off the training yard for about half an hour, but it was surprising that neither their _buir_ nor Jango had come bursting into the suite, driven on by worry. That could only mean that they were distracted by something big going on in the council chambers.

If his suspicions were on the mark, that likely meant the pair of them were doing their best to keep the room calm after the council members had seen the General protectively swarmed by _Vod'e_ and hustled off the field. There were no doubt already holos and rumours spreading over the precise cause and who was to blame.

Biting back a groan, Cody cued his comm and called his _ori'vod_. Best not to interrupt their _buir_ right now.

"Cody!" Jango picked up immediately. "What the kriff is going on? We saw Helix all but attack the _jetiise_ , and everyone got worked up about it. _Buir_ got them calmed down again, but things were a bit tense for a while. The rumours flying among the _verd'e_ right now are insane. Did the masters really manage to hurt Ben somehow?"

"The General will be fine," Cody reported, as calmly as he could manage with the way the memory made him angry at the karking idiot Jedi masters again. "He's not hurt, though he did overextend himself. Helix pulled rank on him and we got him put to bed. Tell everyone not to worry, we've got this squared away. All he needs is rest and a good meal later."

Jango relaxed a little. "Alright," he agreed, a trifle reluctantly, and Cody could tell he wanted almost desperately to come up and check for himself. "Next question: does he always kriffing flirt like that with his enemies? The _verd'e_ will be giving _buir_ a hard time about that for days."

"Yeah, he does," Cody told his _ori'vod_. "And I know it must sound really strange coming from a twelve-year-old, but he's not going to stop. It's habit. If he doesn't flirt, he'll just run his mouth about something else. Like their clothing choices. I heard him criticise the cut of some Darksider's robes once, during a duel. For about five minutes straight."

Disbelief clear in his voice, Jango responded, "Right. Keep us updated. I'll pass on your message."

"Copy that. Cody out," he signed off, and ended the call.

Taking a steadying breath, holding it, and then letting it back out in an attempt to force a bit of the tension out of his shoulders, Cody looked down at the pair of heavy reinforced boots and green-painted greaves lying in the entryway beside the door.

"One of these days, General," he muttered to himself, "you'll have all of Mandalore wrapped firmly around your little finger without even realising what you've done. And I'll be the one stuck beating them away with a stun baton."

Then, kicking himself back into motion, he checked that their suite was secured before he made his way into their sleeping quarters.

The rest of his men had stripped their General's armour and body stocking off him, and then removed their own so that they could carefully arrange themselves around him in their cozy nest of blankets, skin contact apparently deemed a priority. Cody suspected Helix's involvement.

It had taken more than a few days for the General to accept that he was going to be joining them here for the foreseeable future, and, now that he had, Cody wasn't about to so much as breathe the wrong way and risk having the _or'dinii_ change his mind about the arrangement.

He and his men had all seen the marked improvement in their General's mood and sleeping habits that dragging him into their suite had wrought.

General Kenobi would argue that it had more to do with not being at war, but all of them knew better. They'd had plenty of experience with the benefits it could bring while they'd trained on Kamino, and then again once they'd been called on to go to war. Physical touch wasn't to be underestimated as a treatment for mental and emotional distress, and the other positive effects it had on humans were staggering, as well.

Helix had tried to explain it to them, once. The medic had told them about the chemistry behind it and how it worked. Or tried to. None of them had understood a karking word, but they knew it helped, and that was enough.

Having their General here with them at last, not one of them was inclined to let him go back to sleeping on his own.

And it was good for the men too, Cody had noticed. Waxer and Boil were less high-strung than they had been two weeks ago. Crys wasn't looking over his shoulder every few seconds to check windows and exits. Longshot had lost some of the tension in his eyes. Wooley and Helix had relaxed enough to joke again.

And he was starting to gradually stop fearing that his General was depressed and bordering on suicidal.

The thought made him swallow hard as he started shucking his own armour. He hadn't wanted to even let the idea fully form until now, half-afraid that thinking it would make it come true somehow. He knew what that was like. He knew the signs.

He'd been at a similarly low point before, himself.

Cody harshly shoved those memories back in their box. Now wasn't the time.

Now, they had family to offer support and a place to call home that wasn't tied up with painful memories. Now, they had their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ to protect and defend. Now, they had several missions to tackle, and the resources at their back to make them feasible without having to scrimp and make do with the minimum possible out of fear that they wouldn't be able to resupply before they had to start the next campaign.

He could consider telling the story of his own painful past some other day in the distant future -- assuming he and his General were both still alive when he was ready to do so.

For now, his General needed them to harangue him back into taking proper care of himself, and they needed to prepare to deal with Death Watch.

Cody finished stacking the pieces of his armour neatly and put his folded body stocking on top of the pile. Clearing his mind as best he could, he carefully settled himself in his usual position at his General's back, and let his own eyes close.

He wasn't going to sleep long -- perhaps half an hour -- but he could use the rest, himself, after the excitement they'd just been through and the way his thoughts had all but tried to ambush him with things he didn't want to deal with right then.


	13. Chapter 13

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Waking up in a tangle of limbs, surrounded by his men and with Cody at his back, had become his new normal, Ben reflected.

It was still so early it was late, but that was only to be expected considering he'd passed out in the mid-afternoon.

Crys, sprawled out in front of him with Longshot tucked securely under his arm, frowned in his sleep and shifted restlessly. Almost reflexively, Ben reached out and soothed away whatever it had been.

He was awake now with no real chance of falling back asleep. He'd keep watch, he decided.

A glance around the room revealed that all of his men were indeed present and accounted for, all of them deeply asleep save Waxer, who was watching him with a disapproving look.

Offering him a shrug, Ben closed his eyes.

He didn't need to see to keep an eye on his surroundings, and he'd be lectured less if he appeared to be asleep. Or close enough for plausible deniability, at least.

Reaching out with his senses, he let the feeling of tranquility in the room flow through him, easing his own need to be sure his men were fine. There was little risk that any of them could possibly be hurt, but it had become ingrained habit to keep a watchful eye on his troopers anytime they weren't secure aboard their flagship.

Something about the serenity of the moment nagged at him, though.

Something was subtly off kilter. _Different._

That realisation brought him to full alertness, though he was careful not to let any of his sudden tension leak into his body language or past his shields.

Until he knew what was different, he wasn't going to overreact, he told himself. It might be nothing, after all.

Taking a closer look around him, Ben grew more certain that something had changed, but it took him several more minutes to pin down what it was: the familiar buzzing presence of his men in the Force had lessened.

What the kriff was going on? How was that _possible_?

All seven of them were still very much alive and in good health. The three who'd undergone the surgery to remove those blasted chips had fully recovered already and they'd gone right back to nagging at him to keep an eye on his own health. Even deeply asleep, they should have felt the same as they always had in the Force.

Gently, ever so gently, Ben looked at them more closely with his Force senses. His men knew his touch, and he had no wish to disturb their rest, after all. There was no reason -- yet -- to believe that anything was wrong, but it was downright strange not to feel their emotions humming in the Force as strongly as he usually did, feeling like a lightsabre blade in the air, and the lack left him feeling a bit wrong-footed.

A quick deft touch to Helix revealed nothing unusual. His Chief Medical Officer felt exactly as he always had. As did Wooley and Boil. Crys and Longshot, however, gave Ben a bit of a shock. They weren't humming gently in the Force like the others, and instead they both seemed to sparkle ever so slightly, a sensation like those lightly carbonated refreshments he'd often been served at diplomatic functions.

Intrigued, Ben made a note to come back to the pair of them once they were awake and ask them if he could investigate a little further. That sparkle against his senses suggested that they might both be just Force sensitive enough to feel him...

He'd always wondered at the fact that the men could tell when he was looking at them with his Force senses for all that they weren't at all sensitive. Or so he'd thought at the time.

And the way their emotions hummed in the Force in ways no other sentient's did had also been unique but he'd always ascribed that to the fact that they were not only clones but that their genetics had been tampered with by the Kaminoans.

Now… Well, he was beginning to suspect something entirely different was the cause.

Quick touches to the remaining two of his men revealed little more, and neither confirmed nor disputed his current working theory. Cody felt as he always had in the Force, reassuringly solid and warm right to his very core, and humming strongly in the way that Ben had come to associate with his _Vod'e_. Waxer -- Ben had to fight not to get up and pace -- the third and last of the _Vod'e_ who'd had his chip removed, also wasn't humming, but sparkled just the same way the other two that had had the surgery did.

That was simultaneously very worrying and interesting. It was an observation that raised a lot of questions about those kriffing chips. How did they suppress the Force sensitivity Ben could feel now? Had the Kaminoans known about the clones' Force sensitivity and simply acted to suppress it without regard for what that could do to a sentient? He'd only ever been crammed into Force dampening cuffs a few times, but the memories of those moments… those would last him a lifetime. The idea that the _Vod'e_ had been cut off from their senses like that made a shudder go down Ben's spine. Sure, the sensitivity was slight, but that only meant that the _Vod'e_ wouldn't notice a drastic change.

If he was right in his speculations, that was something he absolutely could not allow to continue. It was not only abhorrent that those chips should be there in the first place, but the idea that there were potentially millions of Force sensitives labouring under the effects of this chip's suppressing action without even knowing that they were?

But, maybe more worryingly, it was possible, given how subtle the sparkle was, that the Kaminoans had never realised just what they'd had on their hands. That the suppression of the clones' Force sensitivity was merely a side-effect, and not the end goal.

That was even more unlikely than the first option, though, so Ben set it aside. No, far more probable was that the Kaminoans had somehow worked out that the clones were exhibiting a Force sensitivity that Jango hadn't, and acted to keep it from manifesting, because it would be "too much of a deviation" or whatever absurd nonsense the longnecks so often spouted in regards questions about the clones and their heartless culling.

The thought of just how many _Vod'e_ had fallen victim to those sorts of actions made an angry growl try to boil up from the pit of his stomach.

Ben would _not_ let that stand. None of it. Not the culling. Not the chips. It was morally imperative that he do something about it the moment he was back in his proper time and place.

Cody's arms tightened around him. "Th' kriff 're ya so w'rked up abou', Gen'ral?" He asked, voice a sleepy mutter and his usually precisely accented words slurred. "G' back t'sleep."

"Sorry, Cody," he said quietly, forcing most of the tension out of his back and shoulders and reaching back to smooth his thumb over the length of the unscarred spot on his Commander's temple. "I'm fine."

"Good. Rest."

Waxer put in, "It's my watch anyways, General. Quit trying to do my job for me, I've got this."

Ben gave him a nod and settled back into a comfortable position. Cody made a pleased sound when he relaxed and then Ben had to fight not to tense again as Cody pulled him in close.

Knowing he'd never be able to sleep now, with his Commander plastered to his back and all the thoughts and worries vying for his attention, Ben decided it would behoove him to meditate on the matter instead, to try to smooth the tangle of his thoughts into a skein that made sense.

He didn't normally meditate lying flat on his back amid a pile of _Vod'e_ , much less while one of them did his best to treat him like a plush toy, but there was nothing for it. Trying to extricate himself would only wake all seven of his men, and then they would all give him those disappointed looks that made him ache and want to ease or destroy whatever had caused the expression.

Ben shook off the thought and felt more than heard Cody make a disapproving grumble. " _Sleep_ , Gen'ral."

That wasn't likely to happen with the way his thoughts were whirling and tumbling, now, but he resolved not to let his restlessness rile up his men. Putting one hand on the arm Cody had wrapped firmly around him, deliberately soothing his Commander back to sleep, Ben waited a few seconds before he reinforced his shields and went back to trying to sort himself out.

He knew that today was the day he would have his answer from the three visiting Jedi Masters regarding their evaluation, and that that would mean his _buir_ 's council would likely be informed of whatever Master Windu decided. The Jedi Council, would be, as well, or perhaps had already been.

How they would react to that news, whatever it turned out to be, Ben couldn't predict, and that left him a bit wrong-footed. If the Jedi Council tried to impose some kind of Master on him, or make a fuss about bringing him back to Coruscant...

Ben winced.

There was no way that would be taken well by anyone in the sector.

And then there was their campaign to deal with the Death Watch. His _buir_ 's next step would have to be trying to corral his council into coming up with a halfway coherent plan for dealing with the persistent attacks and bombings that they could all agree on. He'd need to be at his best for that, and Ben intended to be present to assist -- if his _buir_ and the council would let him.

Shoving those future worries back out of the forefront of his mind, Ben deliberately steadied his breathing and centered himself again.

Keeping his mind calm for a few breaths, he waited until he'd managed to release most of his emotions to the Force before he continued. The move got him a ping of approval from the usually-silent kyber crystals in his 'sabre, lying just within arm's reach above his head.

 _You have something to add?_ He asked them wryly and got the impression of a shrug in return.

Wondering why his crystals had chosen to make themselves heard now, inasmuch as that little ping could be considered speaking to him, Ben reached out with the Force and poked at them gently.

He got something akin to amusement back, that time, and a return poke.

Well, fine then.

He gradually let his thoughts wander back to the issue of the kriffing chips and his potentially Force sensitive men again. If the three that had had their chips removed all had that faint sparkle to them, it was likely that the other four would, as well. The first three men no longer hummed and buzzed against Ben's Force senses, but the other four still did, and, now that he was paying attention, Ben could tell they all buzzed with slightly different intensities.

Little Force gods, was it possible that the entirety of his 212th was Force sensitive?

They'd all buzzed against his senses like this; it wasn't just the seven men with him right now, who did. He'd never really bothered to think about it before, simply accepting that the Battalion as a whole seemed to react uniquely to the Force. He'd not spent a lot of time with other Battalions than his own save the 501st, and that lot had always buzzed just as loudly as his own men. And if those two Battalions buzzed like that, there were good odds that the entire GAR would.

But did that mean they all had those karking chips?

Ben had to fight to keep his breathing even and measured.

If his suspicions were correct, Ben decided, in the immediate future he would have to teach his _Vod'e_ how to shield and be a little more careful about letting his own emotions leak out through his own shields. He'd just been reminded of how attuned to him they were. Cody'd roused when his emotions had gotten too intense, likely worried he was having a nightmare or something, and Ben was karking sure that the other six hadn't been far behind their Commander. Once they got back to their own timeline he'd have to find a way to get those chips removed from each and every _Vod_.

He couldn't allow himself to influence them more strongly than he was already.

In fact.

If his suspicions were correct, given the way his men collectively reacted so strongly to his moods, there was a good possibility that his _Vod'e_ had all somehow formed weak one-sided Force bonds with him.

Kark, for that matter, the troopers had to have all formed similar bonds _with each other_.

That would certainly explain how he and Cody had so quickly become a nearly unbeatable team, able to accurately read one anothers' intentions across the length and breadth of a battlefield. It would explain how even the freshly assigned shinies seemed to instantly integrate almost seamlessly with their new units. It would, Ben swallowed hard at the thought, explain why every lost _Vod_ cut at the survivors so deeply. It would, he tried not to think about it too hard, explain why losing men cut at _him_ so kriffing deeply.

Not that he would have mourned the dead any less sincerely under normal circumstances, but every ground campaign -- especially the latest ones -- had left him fighting not to show just how badly he'd been affected by the losses. To stay above the pain and anguish and keep thinking rationally. To keep strategising well enough to keep any new casualties to a minimum.

Sith-hells, if his Battalion had formed those one-sided Force bonds with him, it was likely that all of the _Vod'e_ had done that, had bonded with their Generals, and that no one had realised what was happening. In his conversations with Master Plo, he'd heard hints of the same aching grief and sorrow and pain that he carried himself anytime there were campaigns with heavy losses.

"General?" Cody's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

And, Ben realised belatedly, that seamless synchronicity went both ways. He was just as in tune with his men as they were with him, a harmonious whole, though it really only seemed to show when he wasn't paying any attention to it.

"Yes, Cody?" He asked, opening his eyes to see that the men were stretching and dressing.

"You've been awake and thinking this whole time, haven't you," Helix demanded, cutting in before Cody could answer.

"I slept for something like ten hours, Helix," he pointed out, and sat up to stretch, himself, as the medic started to draw a breath to berate him some more. "Trying to go back to sleep wouldn't have worked, so I meditated instead."

Cody huffed at him, and prodded at him until he got to his feet. "Sure, General. Go get cleaned up. We'll sort out the early meal."

Helix muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath about Jedi but didn't protest further, so Ben took advantage of the out Cody had offered him and slipped away to the 'fresher.

Once he was prepared to handle polite company -- his men didn't count, but that wasn't the point -- Ben settled himself on the couch in their suite and waited for his _Vod'e_ to come to him.

It was unusual that he would do that rather than immediately make himself a mug of tea -- or, if that wasn't available, the far less civilised caf his men preferred for whatever reason -- so the seven of them would likely immediately know something was up. They tended to watch over him like the shriek-hawks that the _Mando'ad'e_ prized so much.

"General?" Crys gave him a searching look, the first one into the suite's sitting room. "What're you doing out here?"

Ben smiled, knowing the expression had to be a bit lopsided and tinged with the lingering sadness and anger he'd just felt come boiling back up out of the pit of his stomach, thinking about the effects those chips had had on his men. "Waiting for the lot of you."

"You don't have to wait for us," Boil said archly as he joined them. "Go ahead and make yourself your morning caf."

"This is more important," Ben told him quietly, and got their immediate attention.

Boil turned back to the other room, and called out, "Get in here, _Vod'e_ , General's got something to say."

Helix stomped out first, buzzing loudly as he muttered, "If it's anything to do with my trying to get him to take care of himself, I'm ignoring every word."

Waxer followed him with a snicker, and the others filed out after them, most of them not quite finished putting their armour back on for the rotation. Cody was the last one out of their sleeping quarters, impeccably 'dressed' already, as was his wont.

"So what's the story, General?" Longshot asked him, curious. "It's gotta be big, if you're willing to put off your pick-me-up."

"It's fairly big, yes," Ben replied, feeling a rush of affection for his men. They'd already stuck by him through thick and thin, and he was almost certain this wouldn't change anything. _But,_ a tiny voice whispered at him, _what you're about to tell them will turn their world upside-down_.

Ignoring it and giving them a shrug, he told them, "I haven't been able to confirm it with complete certainty, but several of you… well, you feel different in the Force. It's been a busy few days, so I only noticed it this morning."

The seven of them exchanged surprised looks. "What does that mean, exactly, General?" Wooley asked him, a bit tentative.

"It's difficult to explain, but I'll try," Ben told him and then decided to go with the analogy he'd used himself, when he had done his best to pin down the subtle changes.

"You all know I can feel emotions in the Force," he said, and waited until he'd gotten nods from them. "Well, one of the peculiarities of the GAR has always been how your emotions feel. Most sentients, it's simply a knowing. I can reach out and don't have to think about what it is they feel; I just understand. Like seeing colours. It's difficult to put into words what green is, or what blue is, but once you know them, you recognise them. That holds true for anger, or sadness, or contentment and how they feel. But clone troopers… well, your emotions are almost like a physical sensation. Asleep or calm, you make me think of the sound my 'sabre makes when it cuts through the air. That satisfying hum that reaches down into your psyche and resonates. When you're upset, it's a sharp stinging buzz that I can almost feel on my skin."

Cody nodded thoughtfully. "That's fascinating, sir, but what does it have to do with anything?"

Ben gave him an arch look. "I was just getting to that."

"So? What's changed?" Helix prompted him.

"Well, three of you aren't buzzing anymore," he said simply, and let the statement hang in the air. They would figure it out, he was sure.

It took them all of a couple of seconds to reach the same conclusion he had, as it turned out, their expressions going through stunned surprise then confusion then lingering on wariness. Crys was the one to speak up, next. "You don't mean to tell us that… removing the chips caused this change, do you, sir?"

"That's what I suspect, but it's only a guess, at this point. Unless the same thing happens to the rest of you when you get them removed, it will stay unproven," Ben replied. "And that's not all."

"What _else_ is there?" Boil asked him, a bit incredulous.

"The three of you that have stopped buzzing, also appear to be ever so slightly Force sensitive."

The room went so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

Cody cleared his throat awkwardly. " _Force sensitive_ , General? How is that possible? None of us has ever done any of the weird things you can."

"That I also can't answer with any kind of certainty," Ben said, and shrugged. "I've no solid information on how or when or why those chips were put in you, or what they were meant to do… or what they actually did. If anything. Only my conjectures. But judging by what I've observed, it had some kind of effect on your emotions and your Force signatures. My best guess? Someone on Kamino noticed that you were all showing varying degrees of Force sensitivity and decided the chips would be the best way to manage that, for whatever reason, and now that you're free of them, your senses will be a little heightened."

A short silence fell and stretched.

"I guess that means we'll have to find some way to deal with this new problem, huh?" Boil asked.

"It's hardly a _problem_ ," Ben disagreed. "For all its unexpected nature and all the implications it has, the fact that you're showing any Force sensitivity at all doesn't really change anything. Not at the levels you're likely to show. It's barely enough to notice in Waxer, Crys and Longshot, even when you're looking for it. In fact, I'd have to find another Jedi Master to confirm it for me, if I wanted to be sure."

The _Vod'e_ relaxed all at once, and Ben suddenly realised how tense they'd gotten.

Waxer grinned, and dared tease him a little. "So we don't have to do whatever bizarre training you _jetiise_ go through?" 

"No, but I will have to show you how to shield and a few other basics," he told them. "It wouldn't be ideal for you to come across a Force user who knows how to leverage a mild sensitivity against people. It has been known to make people more susceptible to certain types of suggestion."

Helix took a breath that seemed to catch in his throat briefly, then shook his head. "We can worry about that later, then. Our main objective right now is getting everyone fed."

That got Cody moving. His Commander nodded decisively. "Right, come on, General, we'd better get on that before Helix decides to take matters into his own hands."

"Force forbid," Ben grumbled, getting back to his feet and suddenly feeling all the aches and soreness he hadn't before. He must've been more focused on his thoughts than he'd realised, not to feel the aftereffects of the previous rotation's sparring until he'd relaxed.

Helix eyed him, looking a bit disapproving again. "You need to eat, General, and then have a hot soak if we can arrange it. A massage, if not."

Ben could've sworn he saw Cody glare ever so briefly at their medic, a flare of emotion so tangled and layered it was impossible to decipher accompanying the expression, but it vanished under a perfectly calm mien before Ben could even begin to work out what it was about that statement that had irritated his Commander.

Dismissing it, he made his way into their dining area, knowing he had to be moving a bit stiffly and ignoring it as best he could.

By the time he'd gotten there, the room already smelled strongly of caf, and Boil was leaning over the caf maker, making kissing noises at it and praising it. Waxer was shaking his head at his _riduur_ , fond amusement in every line of his posture.

Cody rolled his eyes at the younger _Vod_ , but didn't say a word about the ridiculousness of the scene. "I hope you made enough to share," he said instead.

Boil moved to possessively wrap himself around the caf maker, but Waxer nodded. "We did, sir. Boil's just missing his fix."

"Well, I would've gotten it sooner, but there were apparently important things to discuss," Boil retorted. "The darling clearly missed me," he added, referring to the machine, which finished brewing the caf with perfect timing. "See?"

Wooley stepped past him, and Ben watched as he cautiously approached Boil. "Okay, _Vod_ , pour out some caf, would you?" he requested, pulling mugs for all of them out of the nearby cupboard and setting them out beside Boil.

Boil quickly poured some caf into the mug he'd declared the largest, for all that Ben knew they were all exactly the same, and then left the rest of them to fend for themselves as he held it up to his face and inhaled deeply.

Waxer, who was closest, picked up the container of caf and started pouring out the other seven servings. Helix claimed the first one, and Cody the next two, handing one to Ben as he moved out of the way to let the others get their caf.

Ben looked down into his mug and pulled a face. "I think I need to take _buir_ up on his offer to import some tea. I don't know how you can stand to drink this. It tastes like ship engine oil smells."

Wooley laughed. "It's cheap enough that the GAR is willing to supply us with it, and it wakes us up well enough," he retorted.

They stood around in companionable silence as they drained their mugs, and then began assembling their morning meal out of the ingredients they scrounged up out of their kitchen.

Finding out that cooking had been part of their curriculum on Kamino had caught Ben off guard on their first ground campaign, but it did make sense that it would be, essential skill that it was. They knew how to prepare most simple dishes, and how to balance the nutrients in their diet to keep themselves in good fighting trim.

Of course, he eyed Helix and Wooley, not all of the _Vod'e_ were equally good at it.

Their timing perfect, Jango and their _buir_ came in to join them, and the atmosphere in the room brightened as all of the _Vod'e_ turned to greet them. 

The moment they were done, though, Jango stepped over to Ben, his lingering concern clear in the Force, and gave him a long look. "Do me a favour," he said dryly, "and don't push yourself into a near-collapse in front of an audience again?"

Groaning, Ben let his head tip back so he could beg the ceiling for patience. "I was _fine_ ," he retorted. "Just tired."

Cody scoffed. "Don't bother, _ori'vod_ ," he said. "That objective isn't worth the casualties. Not even to a GAR Battalion."

The echo of ' _we're clones; we're expendable_ ' rang clear in the air for Ben to hear, and he flinched. Hearing Cody say something like that about him stung.

Jango shrugged. "I'm not part of your GAR," he pointed out, before Ben could find the correct words to respond, "and I'll decide for myself what targets are worth taking."

"Don't underestimate Jango's stubbornness, Cody," their _buir_ said with a chuckle, "I've said before that you take after him, and I meant it."

Oh kriff. Not another _vod_ incapable of turning down a challenge. He'd sealed his own fate, now. And his younger _Vod'e_ would gleefully take advantage of having Jango around to mother him into doing what they collectively wanted.

It was time to make a strategic retreat and change the topic.

"Yes, yes," Ben put in irritably, "I'm absolutely terrible at ensuring my own survival. Clearly that's how I got through thirty-five years of my life and a full year and a half on the front lines. Honestly. I know where my limits are. Now can we put the lectures aside for the moment? There are other rather more important topics to discuss. Such as today's council meeting. _Buir_ , I believe you hinted last rotation that they were almost ready to accept the proposal I put to them before the Jedi Masters began their evaluation. Do you think that will happen today?"

Giving him a knowing look that said he'd seen right through the tactic, Jaster shrugged. "I'll have to preside over their last arguments about it once we're through with our meal. In the afternoon the Jedi Masters have requested to come present the results of their evaluation. If it's likely to work out, it will happen then. And before you ask, no, I can't get you back into the council chamber without risking the whole thing. A good portion of the council is sympathetic and would probably be willing to listen to you for my sake, but the rest would only get offended and start screaming about listening to children again. It took a while to calm them down. Don't undo all your own hard work by getting impatient now that we're so close, _ad'ika_."

Ben scowled, frustrated. His _buir_ was doubtless right, but kriff it all, he kept forgetting that he was stuck in the body of a pre-adolescent. "Fine. I suppose I shall have to find a different task to occupy myself with, then."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," Cody said dryly. "Just try not to shatter our collective worldview again within the span of a rotation."

Their _ori'vod_ laughed. "You mean he's managed that once already?"

"Apparently," Waxer told him, voice holding a wealth of bemusement, "we're all probably Force sensitive and never knew it. The General only figured it out this morning, prodding at us because he couldn't sleep."

"And because three of you felt different," Ben reminded him. "You can't leave out half the story."

Jaster raised an eyebrow at him. "... felt different?" He asked delicately.

"Every individual has a unique feel to them in the Force," Ben explained as succinctly as he could manage, "and theirs changed. I suspect it's because they've had their chips removed, but can't prove it. Yet."

Jango and their _buir_ exchanged looks, a rising wave of protective anger rolling off them.

"Those chips _changed them somehow_?" Their _buir_ muttered, as if to himself, incredulously. "This is getting more and more bizarre."

Helix snorted. "You said it, _buir_."

"Until we know more, we can't make too many assumptions," Ben said firmly, "but that does appear to be the case, yes."

"And this Force sensitivity you've discovered," Jango asked him, "do you have to train them how to use it now?"

"Yes and no; they'll need to know the very basics, so that they're not going to be taken in by someone trying to play mind tricks or influence them into doing something they wouldn't normally," Ben replied, wanting to put their minds at ease as much as he could, "but they're all strong-willed enough that that shouldn't be much of an issue anyway. The real problem is likely to only come up if and when they run into a darksider or other Force user that knows how to use coercions."

"How likely is that to happen, General?" Wooley asked him, sounding a bit uneasy.

"Every campaign the General's ever led us on, at least one thing we thought should have been impossible has actually happened. Look what happened after Saleucami. We managed to kriffing take a trip into the past, to _before we exist_ ," Boil interjected.

Ben smiled, knowing the expression was more grim than amused. "It's not very likely, Wooley, but I do want you all to know what it feels like and how to deal with it, on the off chance that it _does_."

Cody just sighed. "Well, at least we won't be bored."

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Their _buir_ had asked a couple more pertinent questions, purely out of interest -- what kind of exercises would they be doing? How long would they need to practice? -- and then been forced to leave the suite to take up his duties in the council chamber once more.

Being elected _Mand'alor_ seemed to require a whole kriffing lot more of that sort of thing than he'd have initially guessed, Cody reflected. And judging by his _buir_ 's perpetual irritated scowl, it made him feel much the same way that Cody's position in the GAR made him feel.

Or perhaps he should say _had_ made him feel, he reflected, a trifle bitterly. He definitely no longer had his commission, and, for all that it had meant a lot more paperwork than he'd have preferred, that meant a large hole had gotten carved into his identity. Sure, he had other things to replace it with. Being _mando'ad_. Leading his remaining six troopers. Supporting his new _buir_.

But he'd spent so long preparing for his role as Marshall Commander, and then carrying it out, that no longer having it... well, it was beyond kriffing weird. It felt subtly wrong not to have reams of paperwork to read and sign, campaigns to organise, logistical snarls to untangle, shinies to show the ropes, and older _vod'e_ to remind of the rules.

General Kenobi, who'd watched their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ leave, took that moment to grab his attention again, dragging him back out of his longing for their own timeline and its familiarity. And away from the reminder of his missing _Vod'e_.

Kenobi turned to the _Vod'e_ under their command, and said, "It appears we're at loose ends for the time being. Are you opposed to trying to find out more about this new chip-related development?"

Cody caught Crys' eyes, then Longshot's and Waxer's. "You three are the ones affected by this," he said, leaving the decision up to them.

The trio exchanged looks of their own, silently asking one another if they were willing to go through with whatever the General thought was needful, then shrugged almost in unison.

"What's that entail, General?" Waxer asked him.

The General considered that for a moment. "Finding another Jedi Master to confirm that you do have the slight Force sensitivity I thought I sensed, and then perhaps a first lesson in meditation. Once you've gotten used to that, basic shielding. That will let you not only keep yourselves safe, but also keep you from shouting your presence at any Force sensitive nearby enough to feel you."

That logically implied that they would need to ask one of the three visiting Jedi Masters to do whatever testing on his men before the three of them left again. Cody wasn't sure how he felt about that idea. All three of their options came with some pretty big disadvantages. "Which Jedi Master would we go to for that?" he asked, sardonically. "We don't exactly have an abundance to pick from."

General Kenobi shrugged. "Master Dooku is our best option, I expect. Master Windu would have to report whatever he found to the Council if asked about you, and I don't think we need that kind of trouble on top of our bid to deal with the Death Watch. And, given your dislike of him, Master Qui-Gon is also out."

"And can Master Dooku keep a secret like that?" Wooley asked him, sounding a bit dubious.

"I believe he would, yes, though we have no guarantees." Their General said, then fell silent, waiting for them to make a decision.

The three _Vod'e_ who would be facing that metaphorical firing squad all looked a bit unsure, but eventually all nodded. "Alright, General," Waxer said, speaking for all of them, "but only because you think he'd keep his mouth shut."

"I'll make sure of it," their General promised them, the words as good as a solemn oath. "I won't let any harm come to you that I can prevent."

"Just remember that that goes both ways, Sir," Longshot informed him.

"I shall endeavour to do so," General Kenobi replied, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

With that, their General put his bucket on and led the way out of their suite at a brisk pace, only waiting just long enough for them to follow suit and fall in at his heels before heading for the rooms the visiting Jedi Masters were using.

Cody eyed the way he was limping just slightly and frowned at his HUD. Helix was right; they needed to do something to ease that. It would pass on its own, but there was no need to let the General ignore his pain when they could do something about it.

As he finished the thought, they got to their intended destination, and the General sounded the chime beside the door politely.

When Master Windu opened the door to their General, he gave Kenobi a surprised and slightly disapproving look. "Ben," he said, "we expected you would be resting after your exertions last rotation."

"I did, and I'm fine, thank you. We wished to speak to Master Dooku," their General answered, "if he is willing to grant us an hour or so of his time."

Master Windu stepped out of the doorway. "I doubt he will refuse, but in the meantime, do come in. We were just finishing our own meal, and _I_ would like to take the opportunity to claim a few minutes of _your_ time."

The General stepped past him into the suite and Cody followed, sticking close. The rest of the _Vod'e_ joined them without hesitation, preferring to take the plunge into possibly hostile territory rather than risk waiting in the corridor. Cody could sympathise; it was far better to have eyes on the General if something did go wrong than to be stuck waiting and wondering. The Jedi Master closed the door again behind them and surveyed their little group, his expression unreadable. As it shut, Cody and his men pulled their buckets off, and tucked them comfortably under their arms. Their General followed their example a beat later.

When Master Windu spoke, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his eyes. "Well, my young friend," he said, "and I hope it is not too presumptuous to address you as such..." he let the sentence trail off, waiting for a response.

General Kenobi nodded. "Of course not, Master Windu, but do go on."

The way his General had relaxed and smiled broadly at the implied question caught Cody off guard until he remembered that his General and Master Windu had been close friends in their own time. Not knowing whether this timeline's Master Windu felt the same way must have been eating at Kenobi.

The response got his General a nod. "My colleagues and I would like to inform you that you've passed our tests with flying colours," Master Windu informed him in the blunt direct way he preferred. "And we shall be telling the _Mand'alor_ and his council the same as a courtesy, when they finally deign to see us."

"I'm glad to hear it, Master Windu. I was hoping for that outcome." General Kenobi told him, then added, "As to the council summons… based on what I've heard, that likely won't happen until after the noon meal."

Master Dooku peered out of their dining area. "Ah! Ben, it is good to see you on your feet and none the worse for wear."

Cody snorted. "The General puts up a good front, but he's not quite recovered yet, sir," he said, getting a sour look from Kenobi, and an approving one from Master Dooku.

"Honestly, Cody," his General muttered mulishly, "you're all collectively the worst mother hens I've ever had to deal with in my life."

Master Dooku raised an eyebrow at him. "They seem like quite sensible young men to me," he said mildly. "But come, you must join us for some tea. I have just enough left of the Deychin, if you would like to partake of it once more."

Cody kind of wished he could put his bucket back on just so he'd have an excuse not to drink that strange leaf water again. It had been strangely flat and metallic-tasting, and he'd wondered how the kriff anyone could enjoy that.

"That would be lovely, thank you," General Kenobi accepted with alacrity. "Tea of any kind is difficult to find here on Mandalore, let alone one so specialised and delicate."

Master Windu caught Master Dooku's eyes, and, remembering the telepathy testing, Cody would have sworn they were having a silent conversation. He dismissed the idea after a moment; why would they bother to have a silent conversation about _tea_? Even for a pair of _jetiise_ , that seemed a bit much.

"Perhaps while we savour our tea," Master Windu suggested, "the younglings might prefer some caf, instead. I seem to recall the Deychin wasn't much to their liking, the last time."

Torn, Cody debated what to do. Suffer through another cup of the weird metallic water for politeness' sake or take the caf and imply he really did think their rare tea was terrible?

His General, probably sensing his dilemma, chuckled. "Yes, I think that might be the optimal solution," he said. "Cody?"

And now he was being put on the spot. For kriff's sake. "Water or juice would be the better choice, I think," he tried to avoid the issue entirely. "We only just had a caf before we came over here."

"Considering we probably shouldn't be drinking any at all, right now, that would definitely be the better option, I think." Helix nodded, backing him up, and Cody wanted to breathe a loud sigh of relief even as Boil groaned in disappointment.

That caf-fiend was going to overdose someday if they didn't watch him, Cody thought as he gave the _di'kut_ a quelling look.

Master Windu nodded. "A wise decision, then," he accepted the suggestion gracefully and busied himself with the tea service.

He and his _Vod'e_ watched silently as the tea was prepared and politely accepted the glasses of water that were offered them -- though Boil made a face as he picked his up -- and then Cody could let himself relax slightly. The _jetiise_ were occupied drinking their tea and probably wouldn't get into trouble in the process, so he could let himself keep a loose watch on the suite and ignore the smalltalk.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when the three _jetiise_ stood and bowed.

"Thank you, Master Dooku, Master Windu. I thoroughly enjoyed that," General Kenobi said quietly, his voice almost reverent.

Cody had to restrain his urge to shake his head in disbelief. It was _tea_. Not a religious experience.

"You're very welcome, Ben," Master Dooku replied with a smile, enjoying the pleasure General Kenobi was very openly showing. "Now, I believe you and your brothers wished to speak to me about something?"

"We did," the General confirmed. "Will you come walk with us?"

Visibly intrigued, Master Dooku nodded and stood. "Certainly. Where to?"

"The gardens, I think." General Kenobi decided. He caught Cody's eyes.

"Sounds good to me, General," he said, seeing the merit in the suggestion. "It's a good spot for a conversation."

Master Dooku caught his attention, next. "And sweets?" he asked slyly.

Caught off guard by the subtle joke, Cody surprised himself and all his _Vod'e_ by laughing. "Sure, if you like that sort of thing," he agreed.

Master Windu and his General both looked like they weren't sure what to make of that little exchange, but Cody wasn't about to enlighten them. Of his men, only Wooley was likely to understand the reference.

Giving up after a couple of seconds, his General shook his head and started for the door. "Shall we?"

"Lead the way," Master Dooku replied, stepping away to dispose of his tea cup and giving Master Windu a nod as he left the room.

General Kenobi headed for the suite's door and put his bucket back on with an ease he hadn't had last week and which made Cody smile to see. Their General seemed to have finally come around to the benefits armour could bring, and it was a hell of a relief. They all felt the same, but it was true of Helix in particular, as he was the _Vod_ in charge of patching the General and his men up when they bled. 

They'd get him into the armour Ardanna was designing for him, Cody told himself as he put on his own bucket, and then Kenobi would finally have protective gear that he and the _Vod'e_ could actually all agree on.

It only occurred to Cody as they left the suite, walking in mostly comfortable silence, that their visit had been blessedly free of Jinn's presence.

Right. He'd been called on to actually do the job he'd been trained for and play diplomat for the council.

Cody hoped the laserbrain was bored out of his skull.

When they reached the ground floor, Cody refocused his attention. It wouldn't do for him of all people to get caught napping. Turning his head just enough to scan the area and take stock, he noted a group of six _verd'e_ doing hand-to-hand drills on the training yard, and an entirely empty garden.

As though it were waiting just for them. Again. 

Cody didn't quite trust that state of affairs. Once was chance, and twice was coincidence, but he wasn't about to wait for a third strike. He suspected that Master Dooku had ensured the area would be empty but for them, the last time. And here they were again.

The setup felt far too similar for comfort.

 _Check the area,_ he signed to his men, _then set up a perimeter._

His _Vod'e_ acknowledged the command with quick nods, and fanned out the moment they'd crossed the threshold of the gardens.

The pair of _jetiise_ watched them, their General amused and the other master curious, but they didn't comment.

Under a minute later, Helix and Boil were standing guard over the two entrances to the area but making sure they remained in visual contact and in earshot. 

"I trust the area is secured to your satisfaction now?" Master Dooku asked him directly and Cody shrugged.

"Considering that this very building we're standing right next to was successfully targeted and attacked a week ago," he grumbled, the memory upsetting him and making his right hand clench into a tight fist, "I don't think this is overdoing it, no."

His General smiled a bit wolfishly, "And that goes doubly," he said, pitching his voice not to carry, "considering what I am about to ask of you, Master."

"Don't keep me in suspense, then," Master Dooku requested.

General Kenobi smiled wider, the expression all teeth. "This information goes no further," he said firmly, "as it could very literally become a matter of life and death for me and for my _Vod'e_."

Startled by that, the _jetii_ straightened as if stung. "What information could possibly be quite so critical?"

The General gave him a level look. "I know quite well that you're good at politics and strategy, Master," he said. "So that is definitely a leading question. Very well, I'll bite. We are about to embark on an attempt to eliminate the Death Watch, who have thus far made two nearly successful attempts to kill our _buir_ and have a grudge against Jedi that can be seen from orbit. Just about anything about us that could be used as leverage therefore becomes potentially dangerous information to share. Even when shared with someone like you."

Master Dooku's expression went thoughtful. "Hmmm. And you believe what you're about to tell me is sensitive and likely to become such leverage," he surmised. 

Cody felt like he was watching another lightsabre bout between the two of them. That had been a very delicate and deft dance of verbal thrust, parry, and riposte. 

"I do," his General agreed and got a nod.

"Then," Master Dooku said, "under the assumption that keeping your secret will not cause harm to anyone else or cause me to violate any of my oaths, I can agree to do so."

This was it.

Cody found himself all but holding his breath.

"I believe three of my men might be ever so slightly Force sensitive and would like you to confirm it for me," General Kenobi said bluntly, lowering his voice even further.

Master Dooku raised an eyebrow at him, wordlessly asking, 'Is that triviality what all the fuss was about?' before making the connection between that and the Death Watch's political stance. "I begin to see what you mean. Even if it were to prove false, the mere rumour might cause trouble."

"Precisely," his General said. "The outcome of the test doesn't matter. Merely voicing the suspicion would be enough, were it to be overheard by the wrong person. Here, in this space, my men and I can ensure we aren't spied on, and I am reasonably certain you are doing the same. But the moment someone outside of our number knows of this…? We effectively lose our control of the situation. I could defend myself against attacks targeted at Force users, but my _Vod'e_ could not."

"And, like the excellent leader you are," Master Dooku said with a nod, "you seek to prevent the issue from coming up."

The man might be the kriffing Seppie leader and a Sith in their own timeline, but he approved of their General and thought Kenobi was good at his job in this one. Cody felt the dissonance of that thought shudder through him. He really didn't know what to do with the fact that he was starting to like Master Dooku.

This version of the man they'd been fighting for a year and a half, with his subtle dry humour and willingness to treat each and every _Vod_ as a person, as an individual, for all that they were currently stuck in the bodies of nat-born ten-year olds and very obviously clones… 

This man made him wonder what the kriff had happened in their own timeline. What had gone wrong to turn this comparatively evenhanded and honourable _jetii_ into the cynical leader he had become? Cody couldn't imagine this Master Dooku being willing to raise a droid army and lead it against the Republic.

General Kenobi offered the Master a shallow bow. "I am attempting to, yes," he said dryly. "Will you assist me in this, under the restrictions imposed upon us by the situation?"

"Very well. I see no obstacle that should prevent me. Which of your brothers are the suspected sensitives?" Master Dooku asked.

Relaxing, the General called them forward with a gesture. "That would be Waxer, Crys, and Longshot, Master."

Master Dooku seemed to do nothing more than look closely at them one by one, but the three _Vod'e_ shifted a little bit uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

When the Master looked back at their General, he nodded. "Your senses are well-trained, Ben," he said quietly. "The sensitivity is quite faint, but it is indeed there, and just enough to leave them susceptible to suggestion, as you say. Though I doubt the three of them would be able to benefit from more than some slight improvement to their physical senses and their levels are certainly not enough to gain them access to the Temple and its training -- and I do feel that is a stance that should be modified -- it is still enough to potentially leave them open to attack."

General Kenobi nodded back. "That matches with my own assessment," he said.

"Is there anything else I can assist with, in this matter?"

His General seemed to pause, caught off guard by that. Cody wasn't sure what to think about the offer, either. It wasn't the first time the _jetii_ had offered them further assistance and clearly meant it. Not even the second. The dissonance between the offers and his knowledge of the timeline they'd come from -- and his own reluctance to accept the offers -- was uncomfortable.

"Not at present," General Kenobi replied, his tone thoughtful. "I assume you will be returning to Coruscant with the other Masters?"

"Unfortunately, I have little choice in the matter, unless your _Mand'alor_ would be willing to assist me in getting back to the Core, should I stay a while longer. While I would happily linger here and train with you further, I have no ship of my own and am bound to travel with my colleagues. Neither of whom will likely be returning here anytime soon."

And Cody would have bet his blasters that that sent a rush of relief through every _Vod_ present. It certainly held true for him. Jinn would be staying far the kriff away from Mandalore.

Both Jedi Masters gave them all a long assessing look.

Master Dooku huffed at them, amused, and Cody abruptly remembered that they could feel emotion in the Force. Dooku turned to the General and commented, "Somehow I get the impression that, despite your own personal affinity for us and their strong affection for you, your men do not particularly care for Jedi."

General Kenobi shook his head at them, half amused and half resigned. "Certain Jedi in particular irritate them. My _Vod'e_ have very strong opinions on what is and is not acceptable behaviour," he said, more or less diplomatically.

"As you pointed out, Master Dooku," Cody dared speak up, "gardens are good places for conversation."

The Master would catch his drift, and his General remain none the wiser.

Master Dooku's eyebrows went up, and then he said, "Message received, Commander."

Surprised to hear that sort of language from the usually urbane and well-spoken master, Cody simply stared at him for a beat.

General Kenobi made an irritated sound. " _Must_ you be so cryptic, Cody?"

"Sorry, sir." He answered, not at all apologetic, and sure his General knew it, too. He heard a couple of quiet snickers come from his _Vod'e_ , and carefully didn't look back. If he knew which of them it had been, he'd have to say something about it to them.

The General gave him a look that said he didn't believe one word of the apology, but didn't outright call him on it.

"It's quite alright, Ben, I understood what he meant," Master Dooku put in.

"But I didn't," Cody heard his General mutter mulishly, quietly enough that most wouldn't have caught the words.

On balance, Cody decided, he agreed with his General. Master Dooku could be trusted -- albeit cautiously -- and likely relied upon. Every interaction they'd had with him so far had been positive and the outcomes of those interactions had, as well.

He would have to try to find a moment to speak to the man before he left for Coruscant. If they could prevent him from falling to the Dark Side, they should.

He wasn't about to get his hopes up that he would be able to pull something like that off -- that sort of thing was more in his General's wheelhouse -- but Cody felt that perhaps a quiet warning to be on guard against such things might not go amiss. His General had said more than once that the Force on Coruscant had felt darker and more clouded than it did elsewhere.

Decision made, he turned to ask the Master for another conversation, preferably without sweets.

"Master Dooku," Master Windu's voice cut through the calm air like a knife as he approached them, "I hate to interrupt, but we're being asked to attend the council slightly earlier than expected."

Kriff.

Well, now he'd just have to find or make another opportunity.

"I see. Forgive me, Ben, younglings, but I must see to my responsibilities." Master Dooku took his leave with a bow that somehow included all of them.

Cody offered a nod in return as his General bowed back. "Perhaps we can pick the topic back up later," General Kenobi suggested.

"Perhaps," Master Dooku said and smiled faintly, "but there is a chance that we may be asked to leave directly after this meeting. We are well aware that Mandalore does not particularly care for Jedi." He paused and offered Kenobi a wry smile, then added, "Save perhaps their own."

 _Double kriff!_

That all but tossed his half-formed plans right out the nearest airlock. Cody swallowed down a groan. He probably should have anticipated that the _jetiise_ would be asked to leave. The Masters themselves apparently had.

With a nod, Master Windu agreed. "That is a valid possibility, and it reminds me that I neglected to offer you my private comm code, Ben."

"Let me guess," General Kenobi said, his tone indicating that he had no intention of following through on the offer, "you expect weekly reports."

Master Windu gave Kenobi a sour look. "I have more than enough reports to read, but I would not object to hearing from you every so often."

That was nothing more or less than an order phrased as a request and delivered with a hint strong enough to be a bludgeon.

The General ignored it, and simply smiled. "As and when the situation permits," he answered, neither saying yes nor no.

"That," Master Dooku said, brightening as he watched Ben input and store the other Master's comm frequency, "is a solution so obvious I overlooked it. Here is mine, as well."

Cody made a mental note to go snooping and 'borrow' those frequencies the moment he got an opportunity to do so. It was the sort of thing that could prove very useful, later, after all.

And then, with an abruptness that reminded Cody of the sharp pressure drop when an air seal lost integrity in space, both Masters departed, leaving an odd feeling of absence in their wake.

Boil watched them go and commented, "You know, we really should have asked them to send Master Plo out for a visit."


	14. Chapter 14

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Jaster reminded himself that these were difficult times and it was his duty to help bring his people together to face any threat they might encounter. _Not_ to toss them all out of an airlock for being an argumentative bunch of _di’kut’e_.

They’d been at this for days and all Jaster had managed to wrangle out of them was that perhaps, maybe, it might be worth it to work together on some level to deal with the Death Watch. Montross’s capture and betrayal had helped, but it was still slow going. 

He'd known that it would be. 

At the very least, Ben’s testing was apparently over. Jaster was incredibly disappointed that he’d missed most of it, but relieved because the _vod’e_ would be much less stressed now. Jaster hadn’t bothered them with council matters while they kept an eye on the _jetiise_ ; the seven of them were already worried enough, and it wasn’t like they could do anything about the political side of things while they were wrapped up in examinations. 

Anytime the _jetiise_ weren’t busy testing Ben, Master Jinn joined the council to offer his dubious help.

The rest of the _jetiise_ , even Ben, seemed very sure that Jinn was their best diplomat. Jaster wasn’t so sure. Partially because his _ad’ike_ didn’t like him. So far every gut instinct that the _vod’e_ had had, had been spot on. Ben was nearly unreadable on the subject of Jinn, but just by observing all of the younglings interact with each other as well as the visiting masters, Jaster suspected that the _vod’e_ could see nuances in Ben’s behavior that he could not. 

_Mando'ad'e_ didn’t like _jetiise_. There was unpleasant history between them, centuries old but not forgotten. It was the Mandalore-Jedi Wars that had brought about the destruction of the planet’s surface. The New Mandalorians might argue that the _Mando'ad'e_ had brought it on themselves with their violent traditions, but even they didn’t dispute what the Jedi had wrought.

A barren wasteland of a home planet. A forest moon nearly stripped of agricultural resources, only just now recovering. The warrior clans decimated. 

The sting of that defeat still burned.

But, Jaster had to admit, Ben’s mad tactics had borne fruit. The offer of Jedi aid in the conflict against the Death Watch _and_ in helping restore the planet’s surface was a tempting one. 

It was enough to buy Jinn admittance to their meetings, when he was not out running Ben ragged with the rest of the _jetiise_. But Jaster was not the only one eyeing him sidelong.

Since the council had come to a tentative agreement on at least working together, now they needed to figure out where to go next.

That was why Jaster had had Montross brought back before the council. If he never saw that _aruetii_ it would be too soon, but needs must. 

Montross was dragged before them in cuffs and chains. No one wanted to take any chances with the man, and no one was feeling charitable. Even unarmed and unarmored, Montross was a big man. A warrior. He sneered at them all after being shoved into the middle of the circle of chairs. Two _verd’e_ stayed with him, their blasters at the ready. 

“Aww, little _Mand'alor_ still need help figuring the big, bad Death Watch out?” Montross sniffed and stuck out his lower lip like he was about to cry.

Not rising to the bait, Jaster just raised an eyebrow at him, because _really?_

“You’ve already admitted to conspiring with them,” Jaster said. “I find it hard to believe that you don’t have further information on their operations.”

Montross shrugged as much as his bonds would allow. “So what if I do? Not like this bunch of goodie-two-shoes is gonna let you kill me. Kriff, Mereel, they aren’t even gonna let you torture me. So go kark yourself.”

Chieftain Adonai Kryze stood up. He was one of the more powerful members of the New Mandalorians. His clan had been a part of the ruling government of Mandalore for centuries, and Adonai himself was a charismatic man. Jaster didn’t _dislike_ him, but over the years they’d found little to agree on. 

“No, we won’t torture you,” Chieftain Adonai said primly. “But that doesn’t mean that we can’t make your life less comfortable.”

Jaster had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes. Montross didn’t bother. 

“Oh no!” Montross said in mock horror. He gave Jaster a flat look. They both knew that Montross would spend the rest of his life looking for a way to escape and get revenge. He was a petty asshole like that.

“Blaster to the head is the best thing for this piece of _kark_ ,” Chieftain Razi of Clan Rook said. Gratis Razi was a large man, and an old warrior. He’d often sided with Jaster on many disputes, but prefered his solutions straight and to the point. 

“If he was in contact with Vizsla then he knows _something_ ,” Chieftain Karit said with a shake of her head. “He didn’t just stumble across that comm frequency in the vacuum of space. This was more than just a simple betrayal.”

The Karit Clan was well known for hit and run tactics, and their leader, Rate Karit, was a planner. Maybe not as much as Ben, but who was?

Montross glared at her. “I don’t know shit. Your prissy ass might need to keep all your _verd’e_ in your pocket, but Tor Vizsla knows how to let a man breathe. I’m an independent contractor.” 

Jaster snorted. 

“He’s lying,” Master Jinn said, somewhat surprising the rest of the _Mando'ad'e_. Jaster was very conscious of the _jetii_ next to him -- not to mention what it implied that the _jetii_ was took his place next to _his_ chair -- but several of the New Mandalorians startled in place. Whatever else Master Jinn was, he was very good at blending into the background.

“Agreed,” Jaster said, “but how do you know?”

“The Force.” Jinn stood calm and collected, with his hands tucked into the massive sleeves of his robe. 

There were mutters all around the room. No one liked that kind of an answer.

“Space sorcerers, Mereel? Really?” Montross said with scorn. “I’d thought you had more pride than that. _Di’kut'e_ like them are all the scum of the galaxy. Covering up their weakness with fine words and pretty robes.”

Jaster didn’t give a flying kark if Montross insulted Jinn, but the implied insult to Ben made his back straighten.

“I’m glad you think my robes are pretty,” Master Jinn said with perfect innocence. He nodded towards Montross with perfect courtesy. 

_Hells, do all jetiise talk like this?_

Jaster turned to look at Jinn incredulously. He was not the only one. 

“Master Jedi,” Jaster said with raised eyebrows, silently asking him _what the kriff_. 

“ _Mand'alor_?” Jinn looked attentively at Jaster, obviously missing the subtext on purpose. The moment only stretched for a second, and then Jinn looked back to Montross. “The Force tells me that he’s lying. He knows more than he’s said.”

Jaster bit back a growl. _This_ was their best diplomat? Either of the other masters would have been preferable. 

Then he thought about the sparring from the day before. Master Jinn was clearly used to being the most dangerous person on the planet, anywhere he went. A measure of his calm had to come from knowing that he could 'sabre his way out of literally anything that Jaster could throw at him. 

Except Ben. 

Other planetary rulers might have to put up with Jinn’s kark because a single Jedi could overpower any measure of security, but Jaster did not.

Just as Jaster was about to snarl out a rebuke, Jinn spoke up again.

“I could question the witness, if you would allow it, _Mand'alor_?” Jinn bowed to him respectfully. 

“And you think you can get more out of him?” Chieftain Karit asked with a withering amount of scorn. There were glares and unhappy looks from several of the other councilors as well.

“If the Force wills it,” Jinn said easily.

“Does your _ad_ talk like this, too?” Chieftain Razi asked Jaster, giving him a dry look.

“He’s less frustrating,” Jaster said with a grimace. 

Razi snorted and shook his head. 

“Your methods aren’t damaging, are they?” Chieftain Adonai asked with an unhappy frown. He’d settled back into his seat, but from how he leaned in to the conversation, Jaster knew that he was intrigued. 

“No,” Master Jinn said firmly. “Jedi do not torture. He will take no harm from my questions.”

The words rang with truth, and that lined up with everything that Jaster knew about Ben as well. 

He looked around the room, gauging the temperament of those there. He got several nods in return, albeit reluctant ones. 

Jaster gave himself a moment more to think on it. It was ridiculously reassuring to know that if this truly went sideways, he could call his _ad_. He didn’t _want_ to; Ben deserved his rest. He could if he needed to. 

He sat back in his chair and jerked his chin towards Montross. “Since we are to be allies in this endeavor, have at, _jetii_.”

The way he phrased that was very deliberate. For _Mando'ad'e_ , there was a very particular kind of alliance between two enemies with a common foe. Jaster had just reminded his council that while they were working with the _jetii_ right now, they might not be in the future. It was honorable to work together towards killing a common enemy as long both parties did so in good faith. And even if Jinn didn’t catch it, Jaster was making it clear to his people that he hadn’t signed them all on to being allies forever with their ancient enemy. Mandalore and the _jetiise_ were simply _narudar_ at the moment. 

Master Jinn stepped forward with perfect equanimity. If he caught Jaster’s full meaning, he didn’t show it at all.

“Montross,” Master Jinn said, catching the man’s attention.

“ _Jetii_ kark,” Montross sneered.

Master Jinn raised one hand, palm out with his thumb and first two fingers stretched out, and waved once. “You want to tell us everything you know about the Death Watch.”

“I want to tell you everything I know about the Death Watch,” Montross agreed in a quiet voice.

Cold fear slithered up Jaster’s spine. The room grew terrifyingly silent.

This couldn’t be what it looked like. Because what it looked like, was that Jinn had mentally coerced Montross.

The idea of losing one’s free will like that was terrifying, and would be to any _mando’ad_. Their spirit, their passion, was part of their soul. That, in turn, bound them to the rest of their people. 

And Jinn had just taken that away with a wave of his hand. He didn’t even seem to understand the gravity of what he’d just done. This was just a parlor trick for him.

“Tor Vizsla contacted me through a friend of a friend,” Montross said in that perfectly flat voice. “Months ago. Mereel’d been getting on my nerves for ages, him and that brat of an _ad_ of his, so I was looking for a change. Vizsla offered me a hell of a lot, but I would have done it for free just to get rid of Mereel and his bullshit righteousness. Supercommando codex is a load of banthashit…” Montross blinked a couple of times and started to wrinkle his brow.

Jinn waved his hand again. “You want to tell us about the Death Watch,” he repeated.

Montross’s face went slack again and he nodded. “Yeah. I want to tell you about the Death Watch. I joined up with them a bit ago. We’ve been planning some kind of attack for a while, but the clinic was too good to pass up. Vizsla wants Mereel’s head on a pike. With his new creepy as shit _ad’e_ in and out of surgery, it was too good. Easy pickings, Vizsla said.”

Anger replaced fear. Jaster snarled and balled up his fists, willing himself not to go punch the bastard right then and there. From the angry muttering around him, he wasn’t the only one. His _ad’e_ were strange, yeah, but they’d fought over and over for Jaster and his _verd’e_ this week. Saving them so many times and taking risks that no child should. 

Montross continued without further prompting. “Knew this would probably be the end of my tour of duty with the True Mandalorians, so I tried to scheme things so as many fell in combat with the Death Watch as I could. That way I could get out clean. No one would bat an eye at me leaving if Mereel died on my watch. Oh boo-hoo, my _Mand'alor_ is gone.” He rolled his eyes just a little, but then his face went back to its unsettling blankness. “We were sure that he’d die. Wanted to get that kriffed up little _jetii_ kid, too. He’d already pissed off Vizsla once.”

Jaster stood up and put a hand to his blaster, but didn’t draw it. Even though he badly wanted to. He was _furious_. So angry that his blood boiled with it. 

One of the things that held him in place was the fact that Montross hadn’t even noticed. He just watched Jinn like the man was his owner. 

Jinn waved his hand again. “You want to tell us where Tor Vizsla is.”

Montross nodded. “I want to tell you where Tor Vizsla is. I don’t know exactly, but I know he’s got a bunch of bases on Concordia. Death Watch started up the old mines again. I was headed there when Mereel’s _verd’e_ caught up with me.”

Kriffing hells. 

If Vizsla was on Concordia it was going to be a bitch and a half to worm him out. The mines that riddled the moon’s surface were deep and sprawling. Most had been abandoned after the Mandalorian-Jedi War, since the strip mining had deforested the whole moon. After centuries, it was finally green again, but mining there was strictly monitored. It wasn’t that they were short of _beskar_ to mine. It was the fact that no one wanted to squander what few agricultural resources the Mandalore system had left and leave another arable planet void of life.

No one except Tor Vizsla, anyways. 

The news of the reopened mines caused the New Mandalorians to hiss in displeasure. The True Mandalorians were already spitting mad at every other insult that Montross had unknowingly given them with his mindless information spilling. 

“Is there anything else you need to know?” Master Jinn asked, glancing at Jaster.

“Names,” Jaster said instantly. He might as well make the most of this clusterkriff. “Anyone that is involved with Death Watch or Vizsla. Jango, take note.” He knew that his _ad_ was waiting along the wall, pulling double duty as a guard and as Jaster’s assistant for the meetings. He also wanted someone else that he trusted watching Jinn and Montross while he talked with the other True Mandalorians.

“Yes, _buir_ ,” Jango said, and promptly stepped forward from where he’d been stationed along the wall. 

That was the unofficial cue for the rest of the council to start talking amongst themselves. The volume was kept low as they all wanted to keep an eye on what Montross was saying, but right then they had things to speak of. 

Several chieftains walked over to where Jaster stood to give him their opinion. It was about as he expected. Outrage from discovering how deep Montross’ betrayal went. Even more anger knowing that the Death Watch had specifically targeted Jaster’s _ad’e_. Most wanted to take action immediately, though they were more divided on what that action should be. Every conversation held the hidden strain of uneasiness, and more than one Chieftain kept giving Jinn wary looks out of the corner of their eyes.

Once Jaster finished talking with his faithful, he took stock of the rest of the room. It seemed while he had been discussing things with his people, Chieftain Adonai had done the same with the New Mandalorians. The two of them locked eyes and nodded, breaking off from their respective groups to talk to each other.

“The _jetiise_ are something else, aren’t they,” Chieftain Adonai said without preamble. From his slight frown, ‘something else’ was the kindest thing that he could think to say.

Jaster nodded in agreement and held back a grimace. “The other two aren’t as bad. Dooku seems most interested in training with Ben. Windu has his own council to attend to.”

They continued to keep their voices low, though there was more than one person trying to listen in. Happily, the ambient chatter kept their conversation mostly covered up. Jaster didn’t think Jinn could hear them. Not that it would have changed anything Jaster said anyways. 

“And your Ben?” Adonai raised one snowy eyebrow. “He’s made quite the impression so far, and he speaks very well.” The unspoken implication was that Jinn didn’t do nearly as well. Another thing Jaster agreed with him on.

“The more I see of the _jetiise_ , the more I’m glad that Ben is _aliit_ now. He’s a good kid. He could use some better people in his life.” 

Adonai hummed to himself, but didn’t comment further. They both watched Jinn and Jango question Montross about specifics for a minute. 

“We’re gonna have to do something about Death Watch. You know that, right?” Jaster asked finally.

“Something, yes,” Adonai agreed. “I suppose it is impossible to ask your _verd’e_ to stick to non-lethal actions.”

“Yeah. How many people did the bombings kill? And specifically ordering them to kill a child, even if it was my _ad_.” Disgust rolled through Jaster. To order the death of a _child_ , any child, was an atrocity. 

“The New Mandalorians will never condone acts of violence. But… we do not command your _verd’e_. We want to see Death Watch brought to justice. Alive, by preference, so that they can repay their debt to the clans.”

“I see.” Jaster thought through the implications. “And if some happen to die while being apprehended, then that would be unfortunate, but not our highest concern.”

Adonai looked like he’d swallowed a live eel. “I would forbid it if I could.”

“I know. Just as I would prefer them all to face a firing squad.”

The New Mandalorians couldn’t afford to ignore the present threat, and Jaster needed them to cooperate if he was going to plan an effective offensive. Neither one of them were completely happy with the situation.

“The _jetiise_ are supposed to send aid, too,” Jaster mused out loud. They’d all seen the Jedi fight now, even if it was only sparring. Jaster hadn’t thought that a handful of knights would be much use, but now. Kriff. Now he knew better. 

From the look on Adonai’s face, he was in the same ship. 

“They’re done testing my _ad_ ,” Jaster said. “No reason for this group to stick around.”

“As you say, _Mand'alor_.” Adonai nodded at him. There was an air of satisfaction around him, and the two of them shared a look of understanding.

Jango stepped away from Jinn and Montross and gave Jaster a nod. Good. Information gathered, now they could be done with this. Jaster and Adonai parted and took their seats. 

Jaster raised his hand to quiet the room.

“Master Jinn,” he said, once the room came to attention. “We appreciate your aid with the questioning. Summon your fellow masters. I want to hear the results of your examinations.”

Jinn raised an eyebrow at the unexpected subject change. Chieftain Adonai whispered to the New Mandalorians, clearly telling them to calm themselves. Jaster got a few pointed looks from his own True Mandalorians, but they trusted their _Mand'alor_.

“Of course, _Mand'alor_.” Jinn bowed, and stepped away to comm Masters Dooku and Windu.

Chieftain Razi leaned over and asked, “What are you up to, _Mand'alor_?”

“Kicking the kriffing _jetiise_ off our planet until we need them for the assault,” Jaster whispered back.

Razi barked out a laugh and leaned to the other side of him to spread the word to the rest of the chieftains.

While the _jetiise_ were on their way, Jaster had Montross taken back to a cell. They didn’t need the distraction, and that _aruetii_ didn’t need to stick around for any longer than necessary. 

Maybe, if they were all lucky, the traitor would trip and die on his way into the cell. As nice as that would be, Jaster knew better than to say such things out loud. No sense in giving hotheaded _verd’e_ excuses to do something stupid.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, Master Windu and Master Dooku showed up. They joined Master Jinn in the center of the circle. As one, they bowed to Jaster.

“ _Mand'alor_ ,” Master Windu said. He was standing in the middle of the trio. As councilor, he was the highest ranking, but based on what Jaster had seen of his disposition, he was a quiet man, and didn’t mind either Jinn or Dooku handling the verbal ball. Apparently he’d decided to take the lead in this particular matter, though.

“Masters,” Jaster said with a nod. “I am eager to hear the results of your testing of my _ad_.” 

He didn’t quite raise an eyebrow at them. He damn well knew that Ben had blown away their expectations. Not just because he believed Ben’s story and he knew that Ben was a much older man shoved into the body of a child. Nor because it was obvious how little Jinn and Master Windu had expected out of Ben. But the testing had been public and the results obvious. He’d seen the holos. The Jedi Masters had been well and truly impressed, there was no hiding it. Especially after yesterday. 

Master Windu tilted his head in deference to Jaster. “Ben Kenobi has indeed mastered his control of the Force. His knowledge is impeccable and his skill is undeniable. He is also very strongly connected to the Light Side of the Force. I’ve spoken with the Jedi High Council…” He shrugged very slightly. “We have no quarrel with Kenobi remaining here on Mandalore.” Then he very quickly cast a sidelong glance at Master Dooku. “Though we are in agreement that we would like one of our number to be stationed here as a permanent liaison.”

“How permanent?” Chieftain Adonai asked. “You have offered to help deal with the Death Watch. Would your liaison be coordinating that effort, and if so, should we expect this person to play diplomat as well? Or would they be stationed here solely to keep an eye on the _Mand'alor_ ’s _ad_?”

Master Dooku bowed to them. “Forgive me, councilmembers. This is not an intended slight towards the _Mand'alor_ , or young Ben. I have requested this assignment, and I suspect that, had I not, the Council wouldn’t have considered such a post. While I frequently am called upon by the Order to take part in missions around the galaxy, one of my dearest pursuits is that of lightsabre Forms. I am an avid practitioner, and young Ben’s style is without peer. I wished to be stationed here to further advance both of our skills, for there are a great many things we could learn from each other.”

“Should you agree, the Jedi High Council decided to allow Master Dooku’s request,” Master Windu said. “As for the Death Watch, Master Dooku will coordinate our knights here. He is experienced in such missions and will be able to work with you all to bring about a positive resolution.”

Jaster tapped his fingers as he thought about that. Dooku was a hell of a lot more well spoken than Jinn, and of the three masters, he was the one the _vod’e_ almost seemed to like. Tentatively. 

From the feel of the room, he wouldn’t get outright objections from anyone if he allowed it.

He nodded. “Very well. Master Dooku, you are welcome to stay and train with my _ad_. Education is important, even for seasoned warriors, and we have much to learn from each other.” 

Since Jaster knew that at least half of the people present still followed the _Resol’nare_ , he was confident that he’d just boosted opinions more in favor of Master Dooku staying. 

“Masters Windu and Jinn,” Jaster said, turning his attention to them, “these are tenuous times, and I am sure that this unexpected assignment has kept you from critical duties elsewhere. A High Councilmember and a trained diplomat must have heavy demands on their time. I know that my _ad’e_ have spent much of this last week with you, so I am sure that they would like to see you off.” He raised a hand to Jango, letting him know that he needed to contact the _vod’e_.

It wasn’t the politest way to tell someone to get the kriff off his planet and out of his sector, but it was polite enough. By having the _vod’e_ escort them to their ship, it allowed them to say goodbye to the masters if they wanted, but it also showed the rest of the _Mando'ad'e_ that Jaster was willing to escort the _jetiise_ off the planet by proxy. 

Not to mention that after that little show of Jinn’s, everyone would feel better with that man being under guard. 

The _jetiise_ bowed.

“We thank you, _Mand'alor_ ,” Master Windu said. If he caught the insult, he made no show of it. The subtle shift of Jinn’s expression showed that he’d seen the statement for what it was, and was less than impressed. 

Good.

Before they left, Master Dooku paused.

“If I may, _Mand'alor_ ,” he said. “I would like to return to Coruscant with Master Windu and Master Jinn, in order to pick up some personal items in preparation for my longer posting here. I will return in two weeks time, likely with a group of additional knights with me.”

Jaster nodded in agreement. “Very well. Safe travels to you, Masters.”

The _jetiise_ all bowed again and then they were gone.

Good kriffing riddance. 

\--

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

In the end, he and his _Vod'e_ had returned to their suite after their conversation with Master Dooku had abruptly ended, albeit mostly for lack of a better place to go. Being back there had left Ben feeling cooped up and tense, but his _buir_ and Jango were busy and he wasn't in the right mindset to attempt to train right now. A solo run would have done him some good, but he'd doubted his men would allow that and decided he was not inclined to bother arguing with them right then.

He had plenty to think about anyway. There was a lot to mull over with regards to the conversation he and his men had had with Master Dooku, along with the other issues they were facing.

It had been just strange to watch Cody joke with the man and make references to things that the Master clearly understood but he himself hadn't. Were the pair of them conspiring? If so, what were they trying to accomplish?

And there were plenty of other questions that needed answering, too. What would Mandalore's council decide to do about the plan he'd placed at their feet and all but begged them to accept? Would they do what he half expected and refuse to agree, just because the plan involved getting help from the Jedi Order? If they did agree, what would happen if they didn't like the plan that was proposed to fix the environmental damage? Would they be willing to help the Agricorps fund and supply the efforts? The Jedi Order as a whole didn't have enough resources to effectively terraform an entire planet. That was the kind of thing that normally required the concerted action of a sizable portion of the Senate to pull off just to authorise the budget needed. It would have to be slow, and implemented in stages, and Ben had no doubts that many of the New Mandalorians would push back against that kind of thing. They were politicians, no matter that they were _mando'ad'e_ , and politicians tended to want immediate results.

Then there was the upcoming campaign against the Death Watch that needed to be planned and executed. What kind of resources would he have to work with? Would his _buir_ even let him and his men help? After what he'd said regarding the council and their stance on listening to anyone under the age of majority, he had to wonder. Little Force gods, if he wasn't going to be allowed to help, that would _chafe_. Hopefully he would be able to convince his _buir_ to at least let him handle the strategy and tactics.

Would they be allowed to join the fight at all?

Going into battle with his men in the state they were in wasn't anywhere near ideal, either. Sure, they were physically in fine form, but he could tell they were simultaneously enjoying the downtime and fighting not to let the inactivity drive them crazy. Emotionally, they were far from in a good place, in that respect. And, for that matter, there was the lingering issue of the surgeries that hadn't yet been done. That was sure to be something that was nagging at his men, even if it wasn't something they were conscious of. What would he do if he couldn't get the rest of his men de-chipped soon enough that they could join the fight against the Death Watch without that hanging over their heads?

"General?" Wooley tentatively asked for his attention, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"What is it, Wooley?" He refocused on the present.

"You alright, sir?" his trooper inquired. "You look real stressed."

"No moreso than usual," Ben replied carefully, knowing better than to try to lie to any of his men about something like that. They'd always seemed to have a sixth sense for when he was fighting not to let his worries overwhelm him, and now, with the revelation of their slight Force sensitivity, Ben was starting to think that was more than likely the cause for their ability.

Crys huffed at him. "So, the answer is 'not fully, but you're coping'," he deduced, and Ben couldn't even really dispute that.

Longshot nodded. "Well, there is a kriffing lot going on right now that could affect us all, _Vod_ ," he pointed out. "Even just the fact that the _jetiise_ are probably leaving this rotation will probably end up coming back to touch on us somehow."

His men were just so brilliant, and Ben was so proud of them. "That's about the sum of it," he said, letting out a deep breath in an approximation of a sigh. "And then there're the other issues we haven't finished addressing."

Cody nodded with a grimace. "Death Watch."

"And those kriffing chips," Boil agreed.

"So what's our next move, General?" Waxer inquired.

"That's hard to say with certainty," Ben told them bluntly. "We can't take on Death Watch on our own. Not as we are right now. We can't do anything about the chips, either, until the clinic is fully operational again. The Masters can handle themselves, and _buir_ is handling the council."

Helix, ever practical, offered what he deemed the appropriate solution. "Well, General, in that case we'll see the Masters off, and then you can show us what we need to know to handle this Force sensitivity we apparently have. Afterwards, you'll let me work some of that tension and soreness you're still hiding back out of your muscles."

Another flash of frustration went through Cody, too fast to pin down, and then his Commander was nodding, along with the rest of the men. "Sounds like a solid plan to me," Cody said.

His Chief Medical Officer and his Commander were presenting more and more of a unified front, of late, Ben thought sourly. And the rest of the _Vod'e_ wouldn't hesitate to throw their own support behind those two.

"It will take far more than an hour or two to properly teach you meditation," he argued instead, trying to come at the issue from an oblique angle.

"That's fine," Cody reassured him, smiling slightly. "We've dealt with extended periods of training before, General, including a lot that made no karking sense until we were well off Kamino."

Waxer snorted. "Right. That desert survival course was one of them. There we were, surrounded by water and we had to somehow train to work with the minimum possible when we couldn't conceive of a planet without an ocean."

"Most of the diplomacy stuff also felt unnecessary, considering we were training to be disposable soldiers," Boil interjected, agreeing. "But that turned out to be useful."

"You are _not disposable_!" Ben found himself snarling, pricked once too often by the reminders that their training had ingrained that in them so deeply that they still felt it even after he'd been trying to convince them otherwise for a year and a half. 

All of the _Vod'e_ recoiled slightly, startled by his reaction.

Cody eyed him warily and swallowed, then asked, "General?"

The tentative note in a voice that should never be afraid of him sent all of Ben's sudden frustrated anger spiraling down into shame and something deep in his gut clenched. Oh kriff, he was an idiot.

Drawing a shaky breath, he released as much of that emotion as he could, breathing it back out and doing his best to re-center himself. "Sorry," he bit out. "But that's something of a sore topic. You all know how I feel about that kind of attitude, and with everything else that's been on my mind… well, it's no excuse, but I just..."

The seven of them relaxed inch by inch. Boil stepped over to stand in front of him and caught his eyes. "We know, General. Helix? I think we'd better reverse the order of that plan of yours."

"Can't have our General strung so tight he snaps at the wrong person," Helix agreed. "We'll get him settled so he can meditate, himself, and then deal with the Masters' departure. And afterwards," he caught Ben's eyes with steel in his own gaze and stubbornness as tough as cortosis, "he _will_ hold still long enough for that massage."

The directions snapped the _Vod'e_ into action, and before he could voice a word in protest, the seven of them had secured their sleeping quarters, bodily seated him in the middle of their nest of blankets without giving a kriff that he was still in all of his armour save his bucket, then taken up positions around the room, radiating their intent to keep him right where he was until he felt a bit more stable, and the rest of the galaxy _out_.

Bemused, but intensely thankful for their unconditional acceptance and implicit forgiveness, their unshakeable trust in him, Ben decided to follow orders. They weren't wrong; he did need to meditate. He owed so much to these men, who had dedicated themselves to him in heart and soul, in blood and bone, and he knew it.

He was, he decided, going to offer them more than just his own contrition. He'd apologised, yes, but that wasn't nearly enough.

Not when he could do far more, now that he was aware of just how deep their attachment to him ran.

A more concrete target in his sights than merely clearing his mind and calming himself enough to think rationally and objectively, Ben reached out with the Force. The _Vod'e_ were still edgy. He could feel the way they buzzed with it and very deliberately soothed it away, using his own presence the way he would have a physical touch.

The response he got from them was immediate, too, and it made him smile. The three de-chipped clone troopers reacted much the way untrained initiates would have, turning towards him in the Force like flowers toward the sun, open and pleased and strongly projecting their own affection back at him. The others did much the same, though their own response was much more muted.

Cody's affection was tinged with a sense of 'really, General? we're fine,' that Ben ignored in favour of singling out Waxer, Crys, and Longshot, one by one, and carefully trying to do more than just atone for whatever reactions his outburst had caused. If they had truly Force bonded with him, then he should be able to--

There. It was like something had clicked into place, and Ben felt the trio startle, hard, physically.

It got the immediate attention of the other four _Vod'e_ but Ben ignored the minor commotion in the room in favour of shoving his fondness-affection-pride at them.

He got a sense of growing awe in return, and let that guide him slowly back out of his meditation.

The _Vod'e_ were clustered tightly together, the way they tended to do for comfort or when they slept, all making sure they had some level of skin contact. Waxer, Crys, and Longshot had tear tracks on their faces, but all Ben could feel from them was warmth.

Satisfied, he closed his eyes again and settled in to wait them out. They needed to come down a bit from what had just happened, he was sure.

Naturally, his men had other ideas. He found himself all but tackled down onto the soft surface of their nest by the entire pack of _Vod'e_ , enveloped in a warm sense of welcome, and it took a few minutes for the eight of them to recover their equanimity.

Helix eventually spoke up. "What the kriff did you _do_ , General?" he demanded. "We all felt that… that… whatever it was."

"Felt like a shockwave went through us," Wooley said, and Cody nodded. "Weirdly nice, afterwards, though."

Oh. He hadn't considered that the bonds they had with one another would also be affected.

"I decided to test out one of my theories," Ben said, offering them a rueful half-smile. "Turned out I was right."

"What theory?" Waxer wanted to know, the lines of his shoulders loose but the rest of his posture intent and focused.

"Well," now Ben found himself hesitating, belatedly realising that what he'd done might not have been the best idea. "When I worked out that you were Force sensitive, I thought you might've forged Force bonds with each other. And that you might have one-sided ones with me," he said quietly. "And I might… have somewhat impulsively decided to complete them?"

The stunned silence that met his words made him wince. Clearly, he'd misjudged.

Waxer, Crys and Longshot immediately tightened their hold on him. "You're not getting rid of us now, General," Crys informed him solemnly.

"I have no idea what kind of consequences it will have for you," Ben admitted, "or me. I've only ever experienced bonds that went to a single person on the other end. But all of you are tightly tied together. Chipped or not."

"Well, this way we should all be able to stabilise each other," Helix suggested. "That's how it's always worked among us, even if we had no idea we were doing anything but keeping an eye on our squad- and batchmates."

Ben shook his head, then carefully and very gently pulled away from their hold, needing the space and relieved when they let him go without a fight. "Among the _Vod'e_ , the effect would have been muted at best. Based on what we know of those karking chips you have and their function, they would have muffled or prevented the bonds entirely. What you'd have with me is different. More intense, if we allow that, and also far more dangerous. You might be only weakly Force sensitive, making the bonds between you and your _Vod'e_ manageable, but that won't be the case anymore once you add me to the mix. I might overpower you without even meaning to. The training bond I have--" he broke off and swallowed hard, seeing his men exchange looks at whatever expression was on his face as he corrected himself. None of them interrupted him, though, to his relief.

"The training bond I _had_ with Anakin was… a learning experience for both of us," he went on, needing to get the words out. Needing to make sure his faithful _Vod'e_ knew what they would be risking. "We're both quite strong in the Force, though Anakin has far more raw power than I do. At first, when he was just starting his training, it helped. Let me recenter him when he needed it, but later on… much as I might have liked having the comfort of knowing we had a bond, it got to be overwhelming for us both. It was strong enough that we could talk over immense distances if we chose. Share thoughts, even memories. And nightmares. We were forced to shield the bond quite tightly just so that we wouldn't constantly be distracting one another or keeping one another awake. And those are just the day-to-day dangers."

The room went quiet for a moment, and then Crys asked him, "And you're worried that might happen with us?"

"It's pretty likely to," Ben told them. "I've got quite a lot of nightmares and you might not like what you find, if you go through with this."

Cody scoffed. "I can tell you for a fact that that's false, General."

Longshot gave him an expressively unimpressed look. "If you think we don't have plenty of fears and nightmares of our own, General, you're a bit kriffed in the head," he said bluntly.

"And what happens if that bond gets unexpectedly severed?" Ben challenged them. "I've experienced that before. It leaves scars. Not just emotional ones, but also in the Force."

Crys rolled his eyes. "We're soldiers. We're not unfamiliar with scars and what they mean. Every last _Vod_ knows loss. We've known it since we were decanted. Do you know how many of us got culled? Especially in the early batches? We've grown up with the knowledge of what death is and how it can affect us."

Waxer picked up the thread seamlessly. "We had no idea it was that latent Force sensitivity you discovered that was letting us do it, but we've all been connected to our _Vod'e_ right from the start, and we know how to deal with it."

"Some of us," Cody said, his voice tight and his posture rigid, not giving away an outward hint of the anguish Ben could sense clearly in the Force, "lost all of our close _Vod'e_ and had to start over. Build ourselves new networks. We're not exactly novices at this sort of thing, General."

That had the ring of personal experience to it, not just the knowledge that it had happened to other _Vod'e_ , and Ben made a note to ask his Commander about that later. Maybe make sure Cody talked about it with Helix, or a mind healer.

"Networks, huh, Commander?" Helix spoke up before Ben had quite finished processing those words. "That’s not a bad way to describe it. We've never really needed a word for it until now, but that one works."

That had the ring of some subconscious knowledge of those latent Force bonds whose existence they'd just proven. Drawing a deeper breath, he set that topic aside for now, "Well, that effect gets stronger, the stronger the Force users involved are. So long as those bonds stay between _Vod'e_ , you should have relatively little trouble. I should have asked you before I just went ahead and did what I did. I hope you can forgive me."

Waxer, Crys, and Longshot exchanged a look, and Ben could clearly feel their incredulity and disbelief.

"Don't be a karking idiot, General," Longshot said on a sigh. "You know better than to think we'd be upset about that. If anything, it's an honour that you'd trust us enough to allow us in like that."

Relief poured through Ben and eased the tension in his shoulders. He licked his lips and offered, “We can dissolve the bonds if need be, just as Jedi masters and padawans dissolve their training bond once the padawan is knighted. It takes time, but it can be done.”

He didn’t think that the _Vod’e_ would take him up on that, but he had to voice the words. They needed to know that it was an option available to them.

Helix snorted and made his opinion on the matter clear. “No chance, General. Now we can keep an eye on you like a proper _Vod_.”

Cody made a low sound in his throat, distracting Ben from the implications of his Chief Medical Officer's statement. Something had to have happened to his Commander -- sometime before they'd met -- to cause a reaction like that, Ben was certain of it.

Carefully, delicately avoiding his Commander's pain, Waxer asked, "You hinted that you had some bad experiences with bonds getting severed. Are you-- did it heal?"

With a wince for having to let those memories out of their tightly locked box, Ben shook his head.

"Can you heal a lost _Vod_?" he asked quietly, knowing the wording would cut deep and hating that he knew no other way to say it.

That got him a stunned reaction from every last one of them.

"So that's a 'no', then," Helix stated flatly. "And if your behaviour aboard the _Negotiator_ is any kind of indicator, you've never talked to anyone about it before."

Ben shrugged, not meeting their eyes. "Even contemplating doing something like that made me relive the experience," he answered the implied question, "and for years it was simply too _raw_. Then I had other things to worry about, and it was fine."

He felt Cody hesitate, unsure whether to ask the question Ben could all but feel burning on the back of his tongue.

Wooley, apparently a bit bolder, forged ahead. "So, if you're willing to tell us… what happened?"

He didn't want to, not really, but they needed to know and he needed to offer them something to make up for the bonds he'd unthinkingly accepted and forged. He could feel them, a tentative connection to something larger, something that reminded him of stars connected by webs of gossamer delicate threads stronger than transparisteel.

"My master was murdered right in front of me," he reminded them. They'd been there when he'd told the visiting Jedi Masters that much.

The _Vod'e_ collectively winced, putting the pieces together now that they hadn't before.

The room was still; none of his men moved. None of them dared to. Afraid to spook him.

That level of caution was unnecessary, really, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

"Master Qui-Gon and I… we got sent to Naboo ten years before the War broke out," Ben told them, trying to stick to the bare bones of the story so that he could shove it back into its box more easily when he was done, even as he knew that likely wouldn't help. "Neither of us knew what consequences our trip there was to have, but that one supposedly simple diplomatic mission changed everything."

His _Vod'e_ didn't break their silence, listening and open, and not showing a hint of judgement whatsoever.

"We ended up having to fight our way out, past a Trade Federation blockade, and had to break the Queen out in the process, so that she could speak to the Senate. Along the way, Master Qui-Gon found Anakin, and that strained things between the two of us substantially." He shook his head and skipped over the next few days' events. "My master and I had to escort the Queen and her handmaidens back to Naboo, after her unsuccessful plea to the Senate, and the moment we touched down, we were attacked. Darth Maul dueled us both."

He hadn’t known the name of the Sith at the time. He’d learned it later, during the war. Usually, giving the monster that killed his master a name helped him think objectively about it. That didn’t help at all right now.

The room around him felt like it was done up in the pale marble of the Theed palace, cold and smooth, and mockingly pristine. The memory had him now. He couldn't avoid it.

Ben watched that damned door open, revealing Maul for the first time. Felt the Darkness that had tried to choke him as the Zabrak had pushed back his hood and revealed his brightly tattooed face.

His jaw and stomach clenched against the remembered hum and crackle of his lightsabre and Master Qui-Gon's clashing against the Sith's. Then losing his 'sabre and nearly falling into the deep pit of the reactor building. Following his master, desperate to catch up, and thwarted mere moments before he could reach his goal.

Not fast enough. Not good enough. Not strong enough.

He never had been.

And his master had paid the price. Had rushed on to continue dueling the Sith alone and lost his life. Had looked up at him, desperate to know at least one of them would see Anakin's training through, and nevermind that Obi-Wan's hadn't been completed. 

His Master hadn't known just how deeply that had cut at him until that moment, but it had been far too late, by then.

Too late for both of them, in some ways.

He reached up, not really thinking so much as just moving, his hand going to that point just below his sternum, where he'd felt that burning red blade pierce him. The blow might have physically wounded his master, but the sensation had felt just as real to him as it would have, had it struck him instead.

Now, as he had, then, Ben felt his lungs lock up.

And then, hard on the heels of that shock, he had gotten shoved right into a fresh new hell. The Force bond between him and his master had _shredded_ , his master's steadying presence fading from his mind and leaving him feeling like he was bleeding all the emotion that would have once reached his master out into the Force.

A cracked container, draining out into space.

The part of him that had been 'them' had crumbled, like ash under his fingertips, and the memory of that sensation would never leave him. He'd never once burned a stick of incense since.

He hadn't been able to bear the reminder.

Even so, the broken bond had ached in the back of his mind for years, a bruise that simply would not vanish. He'd done what he could to shield his padawan from it. To keep Anakin from noticing the way he couldn't seem to get past that loss.

No one else deserved to feel that, but-- Ben let his fists clench. He did.

His voice tried to break under the weight of his next words, and Ben had to clear his throat twice before he could speak, "Maul dueled us both and killed Master Qui-Gon. He died in my arms, and I felt the bond _snap_. The backlash nearly made me Fall right then and there."

He looked up, finally daring to meet Cody's eyes, even as he avoided Waxer, Crys and Longshot. "So I killed Maul right back. Cut him in half and watched him fall into the reactor."

There was a moment of silence, and then the three _Vod'e_ bonded to him had their arms wrapped firmly around him. "You won a pyrrhic victory that day, General," Crys said. "We all know how karking hard it is to keep going after that."

"I had too much to do to simply stop there and give up," Ben said. "I had promises to keep and duties to attend to. The Council needed to be informed, and I needed to take on Anakin's training."

His men simply watched him in silence for a moment, and he could feel the _understanding_ washing off them. The sensation nearly choked him.

"These sorts of bonds can be very dangerous," Ben added after the silence had drawn out a little, his voice a little hoarse under the weight of what he was feeling. "It's very easy to get lost in a Force bond, and just as easy to start valuing those bonds over duty and honour and the greater good. That's why attachment is avoided so religiously among the members of the Order. Before, while you had those chips acting to mute your bonds, the temptation would have been manageable. But now… You know the feeling of loss, but it will take on new dimensions. It will actively call you toward the Dark Side."

Waxer nodded, accepting that, then simply said, "Thank you for telling us, but I think I speak for all of us when I say that this risk is worth the reward."

Haltingly, tentatively, he felt them try to mimic what he'd done earlier, pushing what they felt over the freshly forged bond between them, sending him a sense of belonging that jerked tears to his eyes.

When was the last time he'd truly felt he'd belonged anywhere?

He startled when he felt himself pulled right back into their arms, reflexively fighting the careful hold, but his _Vod'e_ persisted.

"Shhh," Longshot soothed him, "just us."

"You just trusted us enough to relive one of your worst memories for us," Helix said, "willingly. And now you're going to trust us to help you recover your balance."

"We know this drill, General," Cody added his voice to their medic's, his own remembered pain still clear to feel and sending a pang through Ben so sharp it almost made him physically flinch. "We've helped plenty of _Vod'e_ through things like this. Let us do the same for you."

Lost in emotions he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before, a bewildering mix of reassurance coming from his _Vod'e_ , and a vague sense of hope he'd thought he'd lost months ago to the war, Ben made himself look up to meet his Commander's eyes, not sure when he'd looked away.

"How?" He tried to ask, and hated that it came out as an almost voiceless whisper.

"For now, just stay right there and feel what you need to feel," Helix told him. "Let it run its course and then we'll take the next step. We've got the watch."

" _Morut'yc_ , General," Crys reminded him, and the feeling of belonging coming from them surged.

_You're safe._

"I--" Ben tried to get his voice working, and wanted to growl in frustration when it failed him.

The _Vod'e_ squeezed him reassuringly.

"In your own time," Waxer said. "Don't rush it."

"You've got to come back down a bit first," Boil agreed. "We'll wait."

Embarrassingly, that got him to all but choke on his next breath and give in to the growing urge to cling to his men in turn.

Feeling like he had that night their _buir_ had come to find him, not so long ago, Ben let himself feel as they'd suggested, gave himself over to the storm he'd fought to keep contained for so long, and took a leap of faith. Trusting that they'd hold him together as what he felt tried to tear him apart, and rip him to aching shreds from the inside out.

It took him a while to calm, his harsh sobs finally trailing off into something that sounded too much like a series of pained gasps for his _Vod'e_ to ignore.

Helix carefully slipped out of their little huddle, and came back a few seconds later carrying a glass of water. "Drink," he commanded, holding it out to Ben.

Ben eyed it, considering the raggedness of his breathing, then took it. He held it, staring at it blankly for a couple of seconds, then moved to sit up properly, suddenly feeling parched, as though he'd spent a summer on Tatooine.

His men moved with him, without needing so much as a word to understand what he wanted, and Ben drank.

He felt oddly empty. It was strange, not to feel that pent up pain and anger and loss. It wasn't gone. Not by a long shot. But it felt like he'd slung several layers of airtight shields around it. Muted.

It took another few minutes for his _Vod'e_ to break the almost tranquil atmosphere that had fallen over them like a blanket.

"Is this why you've been reacting to Master Jinn like he was still your teacher?" Wooley asked him, voice as neutral as he knew how to make it.

Ben nodded. "We never got a chance to know one another as Knight and Master."

The statement got him nods from all of them, but no one commented. Ben wasn't sure whether he preferred it that way or not.

Eventually, Waxer and Boil stood and the rest of the men rearranged themselves more loosely around him. Boil took his empty glass from him and the two of them vanished into the nearby dining area.

The _Vod'e_ stayed quiet, just making sure they had some kind of skin contact with him, and Ben let himself follow their lead, keeping his own silence. It felt appropriate that they were letting themselves just be, for the most part.

Walking back into the room, shoulder to shoulder, Waxer and Boil reappeared. They were carrying snacks that had obviously been selected because they were possible to eat without requiring more than a clean set of fingers, along with a refilled glass of water Ben knew was certainly meant for him, and his datapad.

The snacks went to Helix, who immediately started making sure every _Vod_ got some, the water was pressed into his hand, and the datapad went to Cody.

Ben eyed it, not sure why that particular object had joined the snacks and water, and distantly curious about it. He drained half of the water, then had to pause because Helix was very insistently pushing the bowl of snacks at him. "Eat something," he demanded firmly, "then you can have your datapad."

"I'm not hungry," Ben tried to protest, and he got a vicious glare in response.

"Eat," Helix repeated. "You just burned a lot more calories than you think you did."

He did feel exhausted.

His men weren't much better off, either, though they were still fine, physically. Ben could feel that they had invested a lot of their own emotional reserves in helping him through… whatever that had been. A catharsis, certainly, but it felt… bigger than that, somehow. He wasn't sure there was a word for it. All seven of them felt like they wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him, as they had taken to doing overnight, and just soak in the calm.

Reminding himself of his decision to trust that they really did know how to handle situations like this, Ben sighed and accepted the bowl, mechanically popping one of the small green fruit into his mouth without really thinking.

The burst of flavour that hit his tongue pulled a surprised sound out of him and he glanced down at the bowl, wide-eyed -- how the kriff had his _vod'e_ found karjafruit on Mandalore? -- then at Waxer, who was wearing the most self-satisfied look.

Helix prodded at him again, that time wordlessly, and Ben surrendered. "Alright, alright," he grumbled, not meaning a word of it but needing to pull at least a little bit of his usual mask back on. "You're overreacting again."

The medic huffed at him, but didn't comment, satisfied that he'd gotten his point across at last.

It was almost tempting to ask Cody just what he'd been referring to, when he'd made that comment about rebuilding, but Ben knew it wasn't the right moment. This new state of their relationship had taken them far beyond their usual boundaries. They were no longer truly General and _Vod'e_ , as they had been, but something new. Unquantified.

And it was still fragile.

Had he been asked a bare few hours ago whether he would allow something like this to happen, he'd have vehemently denied it.

Now, though… Now that he'd had a taste of what 'belonging' meant to his _Vod'e_ , he'd be hard pressed to give it up.

Once the bowl of fruit was empty, it was promptly plucked out of his hands along with the glass of water he'd drained without even noticing.

Cody offered him his datapad, the history he'd been working his way through pre-loaded on it. "Feeling better, General?"

"Better is a relative term, don't you think?" He teased back, making his Commander mutter under his breath.

"Yeah, he's feeling a lot better," Crys put in, and Ben was abruptly reminded that they could feel every nuance of him now.

Distantly horrified by that, he started hurriedly shielding the connection, only to have three distraught _Vod'e_ suddenly clinging to him.

"Force," Longshot said, his voice wavering, "Don't _do_ that."

"It feels too much like losing another _Vod_ ," Waxer said, his voice nearly drowned out by Crys' whimper.

Ben couldn't help the way his eyes went wide. "You've always had unshielded bonds," he realised, letting the shields go again. "Kriff, I never even thought--"

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of kriffing _course_ , they'd never shielded their bonds. They hadn't even known they were Force sensitive to start with. There he went again, hurting those closest to him with his thoughtlessness.

"Stop that," Cody said sharply, jolting Ben out of his thoughts.

"Stop what?"

"Whatever it is you’re doing," Cody snapped, and pointedly looked down at the _Vod'e_ holding onto him with what Ben suspected was all their strength. He was almost sure he'd have some new bruises to show for this later. Not that he intended to say anything about that.

Stopping to think that time, forcing himself to, Ben looked more carefully at the three _Vod'e_ still clinging tightly to him and shaking. "Crys?" He asked, reaching out to run his fingers through dyed blond hair.

"That felt like taking a knife to the gut," Crys whispered, and Ben fought not to let himself go down that same path again.

"That's why I wanted to shield the bond," he said, gently trying to peel their arms away from his waist and failing miserably. "I don't want to hurt you, just because I feel something and haven't put a filter between myself and you."

"Maybe something a bit lighter than what I'm assuming you used with General Skywalker, then?" Boil suggested.

That was exactly what he'd been doing, too, habitually putting up the durasteel shields he'd needed to maintain if he wanted to be able to cope with having Anakin bonded to him.

Obviously, that approach wouldn't work, here.

"We can work out boundaries and such later," Cody decided. "For now, you four need to come back down off that little unintentional slip up. General, for all our sakes, just leave those bonds alone for a while and read your history. Then we'll test out a few ways you can regulate what goes down the bonds and what doesn't."

Ben looked down at the three of his men that were still wrapped tightly around him, and swallowed. "Alright, later. But I can't just walk around with an unshielded Force bond. That would be asking for trouble and you just saw why."

Cody gave him a level look that implied he was stating the obvious, and pointedly pressed the datapad into his hands. "It'll be a learning experience for all of us, General," he said, "and setting those boundaries'll go a lot smoother if you're calm and so are we."

"You're probably right," Ben conceded, and took the offered datapad. Before he settled in to read, though, he reached out to Crys, Waxer, and Longshot. Firmly keeping his own thoughts as calm as he could and away from his kark up, he ran his fingers over their scalps and shoulders, offering what apology he could without making things worse.

The seven of his men were so highly attuned to him. He really should've known they'd be sensitive to his reactions to them, but he hadn't thought. Hadn't considered the consequences of his actions, the way he usually did.

It was unbecoming of him, really, to have acted on impulse that way.

"For kriff's sake, General," Waxer muttered, a wry note to his words. "You just have those kinds of thoughts running on loop?"

"Sure seems that way," Longshot muttered back.

Ben opened his mouth to respond, but Helix glared him into silence. Abashed, Ben shook his head to clear it, and shoved as much of his worrying aside as he could manage.

Picking up his history and staring at the words without really comprehending them for a moment, Ben tried to recall what he'd been reading about.

It took him a long few seconds to dredge up those details. It seemed like it had been months since he'd last looked at this text, with everything that had happened in the last few rotations.

He felt scattered and exposed, and it nagged at him, like an itch he couldn't scratch. That would ease once they figured out what level of shielding was acceptable, and he knew it, but for the moment it lurked in his awareness like a loth-cat waiting to pounce.

“This isn't working, Commander. General's been holding the line alone too long. He can't relax," Crys said, and he didn't let go of his hold on Ben's waist even for a moment.

Cody sighed. "Should've expected that," he said to himself.

"I can't exactly help it," Ben answered, feeling oddly like he was being criticised, for all that he knew it was no such thing. "Not being shielded is… it feels wrong."

Ben felt him come to a decision, then saw his Commander straighten, squaring his shoulders. "You think you're calm enough to find and establish those boundaries you need?" Cody asked him.

"I think perhaps I should do something whether I am or not," Ben said and scrubbed at his face tiredly with one hand. "I haven't been unshielded for any length of time in… decades. And before you start telling me that's unhealthy or whatever, I had no real choice."

Helix snorted. "Alright, we'll leave that discussion for another time," he agreed, pro forma. "But I think you may be right, that you'll need those shields."

Ben knew he would pick it up eventually, and then the medic would do his best to nag him to utter distraction about it, but he knew better than to risk his temporary victory. "I intend to make them as strong as you'll accept," Ben said bluntly.

Waxer made a sound that fell somewhere between amused and knowing. "Just don't cut us off entirely," he answered in kind, "what you did before felt like losing a squadmate."

Crys nodded, rubbing his face against Ben's side. "Worst kind of confusing and painful to have you right there but not feel you," he put in.

Fighting not to let himself go right back to feeling guilty about hurting them before he had established some level of shields, Ben nodded. Reminding them of their lost _Vod'e_ like that was just about the last thing he wanted to do.

Before he could make a move to shield himself, though, Longshot shoved that strong feeling of 'belonging' at him again. "You're one of us, General. Have been for months, even if you didn't know it and we couldn't find a way to tell you. Don't forget that."

That thought ached in ways he hadn't expected it to, given the way he'd never truly felt like he fit in at the Temple, despite the close ties he had to many within the Order.

Not sure how to respond, Ben simply let the thought fade again and started building up the thinnest shields he could stand on their bond, layer by layer.

He got four layers deep before Waxer told him, "That's about as much as I can take right now."

Crys shivered, his grip on Ben's waist tight enough that his arms shook a little. He swallowed. "I can just about make you out through them, now," he agreed, and Longshot nodded.

It wasn't nearly enough that he was strictly comfortable with it, but Ben stopped. He could still build it up further once all of them were more stable. "Feels like there's nothing there, to me," he told them with a half-smile, "but I'll take your word for it."

Just knowing that he _was_ shielding the bond was letting him relax, though. The thin wisp of a shield wouldn't be anywhere near enough to keep him from potentially yanking them all off-kilter, but for now it would have to do.

When he looked down at his three bonded _Vod'e_ , Ben couldn't quite stop his lingering half-smile from softening into a real one. They'd fallen asleep right where they were the moment he'd stopped worrying at his lack of shields, still fully armoured save for their buckets, worn out by the whole experience.

"You should follow their example," Cody told him, his voice low. "We'll wake you in time for the evening meal."

He considered protesting, thought about trying to remove his own armour, but his eyes were falling shut at the mere suggestion of sleep.

Taking the chance to recover his balance properly was hardly a bad idea.

"Rest, General," Cody told him.

 _You're safe,_ Ben heard echo through the room, and, this time, he believed it.

\--


	15. Chapter 15

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Cody bit at the inside of his cheek and swallowed back a groan. No sooner had his General _karking finally_ closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest after the emotional wringer he'd put them all through than Cody's comm had pinged.

He'd taken one look at the frequency -- Jango's -- and known what it had to be about.

The Jedi Masters had finished reporting to their _buir_ and the council about their evaluation, and, Cody assumed, gotten their answer regarding the venture involving the Agricorps that General Kenobi had proposed.

Moving into the dining area to take the call, Cody made sure to keep his voice down as he answered. " _Ori'vod_. What do you need?"

"A few of my _vod'e_ to come with me and escort the _jetiise_ to their ship," Jango sounded just as hoarse and tired as Cody felt. " _Buir_ and the council feel it would make an appropriate send-off."

He didn't bother to bite back his groan that time. "The General is indisposed," he replied. "I'll go with you and bring Boil and Wooley."

"What the kriff's happened _now_?" Jango asked, exasperated. "We leave you eight alone for _five kriffing minutes_ and you manage to find trouble."

Cody snorted. "General Kenobi's talented, that way. It's nothing serious. He just needs to sleep it off. I'll tell you later."

Jango took a deeper steadying breath. "Fine. Meet us at the central building's main doors in five minutes," he instructed, and then signed off. "Fett out."

Cody was definitely not overly happy about the idea of leaving his General alone for even as short a time as this 'mission' would take. Not given how raw Kenobi had felt. Not with how strongly the pain and near-broken loneliness coming from Kenobi had hit them all.

Force, but the flood of emotion his General had finally allowed himself to feel had reminded him far too kriffing much of the way he'd felt after he'd lost his squad, back on Kamino. At times like this he missed Rex like he would his left hand. That _Vod_ was far better at this kind of emotional stuff than he was. Had been the one to almost single-handedly pull him out of the nosedive he'd found himself in those few years ago.

And where was that asshole Wolffe, when you needed him? The thought hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

Gruff and pragmatic, Wolffe was good at cutting right to the point, and finding simple solutions to complex issues. Somehow, whatever he proposed just _worked._

Shoving his own painful memories and his wistful longing for his fellow Commanders' company and advice back down as far as he could manage, Cody scrubbed tiredly at his face and ignored the rough scratch of armourweave against his skin. "Needs must," he reminded himself, and moved to stand in the doorway of their sleeping quarters.

The eyes of the three conscious _Vod'e_ snapped to him immediately, waiting for news and orders.

He caught their eyes one by one and started signing. _Escort mission; need two men. Boil and Wooley; Helix holds here._

All three of them nodded.

The General shifted, as though he could feel their reluctance to leave, and Cody carefully schooled his thoughts as Boil and Wooley joined him. With a last nod to Helix, he steeled himself and led the way out of the suite, tugging his bucket into place as he walked.

As the door shut behind them, Wooley asked, "So whom are we escorting, Commander? The _jetiise_?"

"Got it in one," Cody said. "Jango said _buir_ requested it."

It went unsaid that they would do their best to accommodate whatever their _buir_ asked for. None of them was all that happy about being asked to leave General Kenobi's side right then, and Cody was sure the General's conspicuous absence would get the Jedi Masters' attention, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Or, perhaps more accurately, there _was_ , but he wasn't willing to do it.

He could spare his General this, and he intended to. Having to function normally -- much less around a living version of the man whose death he'd just relived for them -- so soon after that kind of outpouring would cost Kenobi dearly, and it was currently wholly unnecessary to ask that of him. His presence wasn't required for this mission, such as it was. A simple escort to the spaceport was the kind of scut work that usually went to shinies -- boring, easy, and a bit tedious. It had been a while since he'd ridden escort on anyone. General Kenobi didn't count, after all.

Neither of his _Vod'e_ broke their silence again before they reached the rendezvous point Jango had named.

Their _ori'vod_ stood in the center of the main atrium of the building, the three _jetiise_ clustered around him and making polite smalltalk, as he and his two chosen troopers approached. Cody carefully made sure not to glare at Jinn, though he wanted to.

Oh, he _wanted to_ , after what they'd just heard and felt, but he knew better than to let himself indulge more than daydreams of that nature. Their _buir_ 's position was precarious enough, and doing anything that would cause tension between the _jetiise_ and the _Mando'ad'e_ would just be kriffing stupid, right now.

But that knowledge didn't stop him from wishing he could make a move. Cody knew his right hand had clenched around air, but he didn't let himself focus on it, doing what he could to keep himself calm and composed.

 _Jetiise_ could sense emotions, as he knew _kriffing well_.

"Ah," Master Dooku commented as they approached, "here is our honour guard. Commander."

"Masters Jedi," Cody returned, giving Masters Windu and Dooku a polite nod but ignoring Master Jinn's presence, unable to make himself civilly acknowledge the _besom_. "Are you ready to depart?"

The pointed lack of greeting made the _jetii_ huff at him, muttering something under his breath that -- luckily for him -- stayed indistinct enough that Cody's bucket's audio pickups couldn't render it.

Master Dooku gave his former apprentice a knowing look, but didn't comment. Instead, Master Windu spoke up.

"Master Dooku shall be staying on planet as liaison between the _Mand'alor_ and the Order," the Councilor informed him, and Cody blinked at his HUD for a moment, surprised, "though he will be returning to Coruscant to retrieve certain personal effects he would like to have with him for the duration of his stay on Mandalore."

That announcement made Jinn look sour, for some reason, and Cody made a note of that to possibly ask his General about later. "I see," he said, deciding that this was a development that could very well work in their favour. "Approximately when should we expect his return, then, Master Windu?"

Any _jetii_ good enough at politics and smart enough to maneuver the New Mandalorians into letting him hang around despite still being openly affiliated with the Order and the Temple would be an asset, if he could win the man over. And it was interesting that Master Dooku would be the one to take up the liaison position, rather than Jinn, who was supposedly their best diplomat.

"About two standard weeks," Master Windu said with a smile tugging at his lips, and his tone ever so slightly teasing, "though I have no doubt he will hurry back, just so that he can pick Ben's brain about that new lightsabre Form he seems to have created."

"I happen to know you are just as curious about it, youngling," Master Dooku shot back primly. "It would behoove you not to throw stones about such matters."

Jango cleared his throat pointedly. "Should we get underway, then, so as not to delay Master Dooku any further?"

Master Jinn jumped on the opening. "Yes, let's get going. Pleasant as Mandalore is, on its own merits, I find I miss the serenity of the Temple."

Cody wouldn't miss that holotank commander one bit. He nodded. "Lead the way, Jango."

Jango settled his own bucket on his head and nodded. "There ought to be a speeder ready for us. We won't all fit into mine comfortably, so we'll be using one of the passenger speeders for the trip to the spaceport."

The rest of the trip through the city and out to the opening in the biodome that allowed access to the landing pads was blessedly silent, though Cody could almost feel his two _Vod'e_ glaring venomously at Jinn the entire time. Jinn seemed to feel it, too, and he shifted uncomfortably every so often as Jango drove.

To Cody's surprise, the Jedi Masters' departure also went smoothly. There were no interruptions, the inspection of their ship found nothing untoward, and traffic control was on the ball, granting them permission to take off almost immediately.

He watched the ship climb steeply, slicing through the atmosphere nearly as gracefully as she would have under Kenobi's hand or General Skywalker's.

"We should be getting back," Boil said after the ship vanished from sight.

"Yeah? Maybe now that the _jetiise_ are gone, you'll tell me what the _kriff_ Ben did this time?" Jango asked them, tense and worried.

Cody sighed. "It really is nothing bad, _ori'vod_ ," he tried to reassure Jango over their private comms channel as they made their way back to the speeder. " _Jetiise_ can form what they call Force bonds with other Force sensitives. The General said that they usually use them to keep their apprentices from losing their cool."

"And what does _that_ have to do with anything?" Jango demanded as he jumped nimbly into the speeder and started it up. Boil and Wooley quickly checked the vehicle for any signs of tampering, before they gave the all-clear and climbed in. Cody followed suit, and settled himself in the seat next to his _ori'vod_ with a quiet exasperated sound.

"Remember what we talked about this morning, before you and _buir_ left for the council chambers?" Cody reminded him, as he and the pair of _Vod'e_ with him strapped themselves in for the ride back to the Palace, and Jango started the speeder moving, "Well, the General figured out that some of us had one-sided bonds with him, and decided to bond right back. And then decided he needed to tell us about that day his master died, just to warn us about what could go wrong."

Jango made a sound halfway between frustration and sympathy, deftly winding his way through the city's streets. "Ben wore himself out with his own feelings again, didn't he? _Buir_ told me what happened after that nightmare he had."

"He did. He'll be fine in a few hours," Cody confirmed.

"And are _you_ alright?" Jango asked him, changing conversational directions.

Caught off guard by that, Cody hesitated, not sure what to say.

His _ori'vod_ nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I thought not." 

"We're all a bit off balance," Boil interjected, "but that shouldn't last long."

"Good," Jango said firmly, relaxing back into his seat, now that he'd more or less confirmed that all his _vod'e_ were alright. "Get back to Ben and I'll report to _buir_. He'll worry, a little, but not as much as if he'd just walked in to find you all upset about whatever Ben did."

Wooley laughed, and Cody could have sworn Jango was smiling back under his bucket. "You're probably right about that," Wooley agreed. "Helix already lectured the General about it, though, so you don't have to."

The conversation trailed off into silence, after that, and held until they were back in the palace courtyard.

Jango parked the speeder and caught Cody's attention. "Go rest. _Buir_ and I will worry about the next meal."

" _Vor'e, ori'vod_ ," Cody told him, suddenly feeling the weight of the day fall onto his shoulders and try to shove him to his knees. "You know where to find us."

Their _ori'vod_ waved them off and turned to head back into the council chambers without another word, leaving them to make their way back to their suite without him.

When they re-entered the space, they interrupted an apparently fiery rant on the General's part about who was and wasn't allowed to simply commandeer his men. Kenobi, who'd been pacing the length of their sleeping quarters in his agitation, broke off the moment they stepped through the door and seemed to sag in relief.

"General," Cody said firmly, "you know as well as I do that we're effectively on indefinite leave from the GAR, for the time being, and that if _buir_ asks for something, my men and I _will_ do our best to make it happen."

That calmed him down significantly, somewhat to Cody's surprise.

"Hmph. No one said the request came from him." General Kenobi huffed.

Helix rolled his eyes expressively, and Cody thought he felt a bare hint of his friend's irritation. It might have been his imagination; he wasn't all that calm himself, all in all.

"That would be because you _didn't give us a chance to get a word in edgewise, sir,_ " their medic quipped, voice so dry Cody was sure the General had been going on about the topic at length.

"In any case," Cody changed the topic, "it's good to see you back on your feet, General. Situation back to normal?"

Kenobi gave him a look that said he saw right through the tactic, but didn't outright object. "Well, I have yet to establish a baseline for the new normal," he said, "but I feel I'm a lot closer to my usual state of mind, yes."

"Where'd you three go, anyway?" Waxer piped up. "All Helix could tell us was some vague nonsense about an escort mission."

Boil crossed the room to settle next to his _riduur_ , and tuck himself in close to the other _Vod_. "We were asked to accompany _ori'vod_ and the _jetiise_ to the spaceport. Master Dooku will be back here in a couple of weeks. Apparently, he talked his way into staying here as liaison between the Temple and the _Mand'alor_. Hard to tell exactly what his aim is, but my credits are on some kind of attempt to keep _buir_ and the Order on good terms."

Wooley snorted. "He just wants to train with the General some more."

General Kenobi smirked. "Those aren't mutually exclusive possibilities," he pointed out, making an aborted move to tug on his beard, then redirecting his hand to run it through his hair instead, leaving it a mess.

Cody kind of wanted to fix it for him.

At length.

Badly enough that his fingers twitched.

Shoving _that_ thought aside even as Helix gave him a knowing look, he refocused on what was important in that moment. "Jango said he and _buir_ would come up in a couple of hours and bring food. Until then, we're at loose ends."

Wooley considered that. "Well, we didn't get a chance to finish what we were doing earlier and all keep the General company for a while," he said, keeping his tone carefully neutral. "Maybe we should do that now?"

"There's really no need," Kenobi immediately protested, rather predictably.

"Need to and _want to_ are two very different things, General," Longshot said quietly. "We might not _need to_ be near you right now, and you might not need it either. Not like you did earlier. But we _want to_."

The General looked floored, and, faced with that stunned reaction, Cody was struck by the sudden suspicion that no one had ever said that to Kenobi before.

For _kriff's_ sake.

If he could find a way to pull it off, he was going to see to it that Master Dooku didn't come back to Mandalore without a new padawan. Preferably one with bright red hair.

He might ask the Master to bring Master Plo, as well. Plo had to have his own ship, even now. That _jetii_ had almost more of an obsession for star fighters than General Skywalker did. Transportation was unlikely to present the same logistical issue it had, this time around.

Mind made up, Cody decided he would try to get his hands on those comm codes that evening. He had a few days' time to work on their new _jetii_ liaison before he reached Coruscant, and he'd have to take advantage of that.

When he glanced back over at the General, trying to reassess how the situation had changed while he'd thought and planned, he found his eyes caught by deep blue-green ones. Crys and Longshot, who'd already stripped down to their shorts sometime during their absence for the short escort mission, were already tucked in close to their General. Waxer and Boil were preparing to join them. Helix and Wooley had vanished into the dining area, judging by the quiet rattles and bangs and the clink of ceramic mugs knocking into one another.

"Cody?" General Kenobi said quietly, "Are you going to join us?"

Taking off his bucket and setting it down on the floor without ever quite breaking eye contact, Cody began slowly and methodically stripping off his armour, feeling the moment grow more charged with each plate that came off. Once he was through with that, the pieces stacked neatly as always, he took off the body stocking underneath, as well. Only then, stripped down to his shorts as his men were, did he break his silence. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't, General?"

He didn't get an answer to that, but the silence was telling in its own right. Cody let it pass without comment, and simply settled himself next to Kenobi. "Provided we're not under fire or out in public, sir, I have no objections at all to spending time with you like this. None of us does."

His General shrugged, and didn't directly acknowledge the words, but Cody knew they'd been heard and understood. Kenobi would need time to properly come to terms with what he'd done today. The _Vod'e_ had accepted him into their ranks months ago, had claimed him as one of their own. But the General hadn't quite caught up with them yet.

He was still struggling with that 'no attachments' rule he kept quoting.

Rather than press, Cody leaned over, across Longshot, and snagged the General's datapad out of the corner of the blankets it had somehow gotten caught in. "Here. I know how you get when you have to sit still for any length of time without meditating. You'll be wanting this in a minute."

General Kenobi huffed at him, mock-offended. "Just because I never quite mastered the thousand yard stare and ability to turn myself into a statue like Longshot, doesn't mean I can't sit still."

Helix simply ignored the attempt to divert them. "Open your history back up, General. Maybe now that the Commander is back, you'll be able to concentrate."

Muttering imprecations about Helix's ancestry, the General gave in, knowing full well that anything he said in response to Helix's statement could and almost certainly would be used against him.

Cody watched him relax into his reading, gradually losing the tension that had lingered around his eyes and in his shoulders, and was kind of glad no one had kept up that line of conversation. He normally could take that kind of ribbing, but after having his own memories of broken bonds and lost _Vod'e_ yanked forcibly back out of their box a couple of hours ago, he wasn't in the best place for that sort of thing.

And, he thought, maybe the others could feel that on him even though his only connection to their network was through Helix, who tended to buffer them all quite a bit with his steady presence. The General almost certainly had felt his remembered pain. Jedi could feel emotions, after all, and Kenobi had always been very sensitive to Cody's moods throughout the war.

It also helped that Helix knew his story already, Cody knew. The medic had lived part of it with him, on Kamino. So had Rex and Wollfe.

The tight bonds he had with those three _Vod'e_ , who all understood him in ways no one else did, had been a lifeline for him for years, but now he only had one of those three _Vod'e_ left to rely on.

And he couldn't continue to do that. It wasn't fair to put that kind of pressure on Helix, who also had to worry about keeping the General and five other _Vod'e_ alive.

Perhaps.

Perhaps it was time he broke ranks.

Everyone would be shocked to see that he wasn't the strict by-the-books Commander he pretended to be, he knew. Everyone but Rex and Wolffe.

But here? Stuck in the past without his Battalion? With nothing but six men and his General to help keep him on an even keel? He might have to follow the General's example and let himself rely on his men more than he had been.

He'd always held himself a little bit aloof, painfully aware that, as Marshall Commander, he was under more scrutiny than any other _Vod_ in the GAR. But now, he held that rank in name only. Marshall Commander to six _Vod'e_. 

The single understrength ten-man squad left to his name, for all that they were the best kriffing men he could ever wish for, wouldn't mean much in the grand scheme of the GAR, anyway, even if they did manage to get back to where they'd once belonged. Somehow.

Sith-hells, all seven of them were only sticking to their command structure simply because they were used to it. Knowing who was in charge was comfortable and comforting, Cody knew. He was just as guilty of that as the men still under his command, relying on his General to keep him pointed in the right direction.

Kark, but he almost felt nauseous just contemplating this. The idea was making his usually steady hands shake and his stomach clench. His breath caught in his throat.

Helix appeared next to him as though conjured, and put a steadying hand on his shoulder, somehow making the edge of the panic he was fighting recede a little.

No matter how much he _hated_ the idea that he'd be bringing them in close to him, putting them at even more risk than before, he knew he needed to do just that, or he risked putting himself right back into that unstable mindset he'd been in, after that horrific rotation back on Kamino when he'd so nearly lost everything. Only Helix's prompt intervention had kept him alive, then.

After their meal, he decided, swallowing against the way his gorge tried to rise and leaning into Helix's grounding touch.

After they'd all come down off this latest stressful experience and refueled. That was when he'd make his move.

He'd rebuilt his network from the ground up once before, as he'd told the General. That time he'd carefully kept to only those _Vod'e_ he couldn't avoid letting in close.

Thank the Force this time he didn't have to do that again. This time he'd be expanding it, rather than rebuilding it. The foundation was there and solid.

Not that that meant he wanted to do it. Not at all. The idea had left him fighting not to let his emotions overwhelm him and distract the General from his reading. 

To Cody's relief, Kenobi had stayed absorbed in his book. Likely due to Helix's prompt intervention.

Waxer would be a good choice for a first new connection, Cody decided. He was generally very steady, whether they were on the battlefield or not. Pretty much all of the _Vod'e_ were, to be sure, but as an officer, Waxer had practice keeping his cool under literal fire, just as he and Helix did. The others had missed out on that training. 

Plan made, for all that even thinking about actually putting it into action made him incredibly uncomfortable to think about, Cody forced himself himself relax back into the nest of blankets.

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

For all that most of his attention truly had been on his history, Ben hadn't been able to focus down completely, as he usually did. Not only was Cody very much on edge over something, to the point where Helix had deemed it necessary to intervene and calm him down, but the newly formed and barely-shielded bonds he'd just established with his troopers kept tugging at his awareness.

It wasn't all the time. But every so often one of the bonds would _twitch_ , making him glance up at them automatically each time to determine whether they wanted something from him or not. Checking on them didn't pull his focus away from his history, in that he could glance up from a bit of text and then back without missing a word.

The tiny tugs came at irregular intervals, though he felt at least one for every two pages he read, and after the first ten pages, he'd grown accustomed enough to them that they almost started to just blend into the background knowledge that his _Vod'e_ were physically nearby. Even knowing that they likely didn't even realise they were doing it, he couldn't not check on them, but each time he felt the little pulls on the Force bonds they'd forged, they became more and more comforting. Like a network ping that proved to both sides that the other was still online.

Sure enough, every time he looked up to check on them with his physical senses or in the Force he found them simply murmuring quietly to one another, content to just do whatever it was that they did when they had downtime. Gossip, probably, Ben thought to himself, and felt the amused smirk tug at the corners of his lips and eyes. And, given the tiny tugs at his awareness, he suspected they were talking about him.

The tenth time he looked up to check on them, Ben realised that there were low voices in the outer areas of the suite and Helix had left their sleeping quarters.

Reporting to Jango and _buir_ no doubt, Ben realised, and was tempted to sigh. Biting it back, he shut off the datapad and stretched.

"Back with us?" Cody asked him.

"I never left," Ben replied in kind.

Crys gave him a sardonic look. "General, you were so deep in that history of yours that you wouldn't have heard a tank roll past the window."

Before he could protest that, the door opened and Helix leaned around the frame. "Come out here and join us," he commanded. " _Buir_ and _ori'vod_ are finally free of the council."

And want to see you, Ben filled in, getting to his feet. "Well, I guess we shouldn't keep them waiting, then," he said, making Helix snort.

The moment he stepped out of their sleeping quarters, Ben found himself pinned down in place by two disapproving and worried stares.

Cody, who'd been right behind him when he stopped short, wasn't prepared for the sudden change and collided with him with a grunt, making them both stumble. "Distracted, Cody?" He asked, in a reflexive attempt to divert attention away from himself.

"Yeah," his Commander retorted, "by my empty stomach."

The statement got an amused snort out of their _buir_ , who'd relaxed a lot the instant they'd started to bicker. "I seem to have adopted a group of bottomless pits," he teased Cody, who shrugged, unperturbed.

"Come here, Ben," their _buir_ requested, his tone making it clear that while he _could_ refuse, he'd only make things more difficult if he did. It was a tone of voice that Helix had down pat.

With a put-upon groan, Ben gave in. "What is it, _buir_?"

Jango pulled off his bucket and raised an eyebrow at him. "You went and got yourself into trouble again," he answered, as the _Mand'alor_ tugged Ben into a hug and reassured himself that Ben truly was fine. "Cody said something about Force bonds, but I have no idea how those work, so I couldn't explain it to _buir_."

Oh.

"Cody also hinted," their _buir_ informed him as he let go and took a step back, "that you were quite upset about something."

That earned his Commander a glare, which was summarily ignored. "It was nothing serious," Ben answered, not about to forgive Cody that little bit of tattling just yet, "just some unpleasant memories. I'm fine."

Jango gave him a skeptical look, but didn't press. Helix did much the same.

Waxer and Boil, who'd managed to slip off into the dining area unnoticed while he'd been dealing with his worried family, peered back through the doorway just in time to interrupt what had begun to turn into an interrogation.

"What weird excuse for a meal did you bring us, _ori'vod_?" Boil demanded. "It looks like kriffing _pudding_."

Jango laughed. "Try it, and tell me you don't like it," he challenged them, rather than answer.

Ben felt and saw all seven of his _Vod'e_ immediately take up that dare, and before Jango could utter another word, all of them were shoving him bodily into the dining area.

"You're going to take the first bite," Cody declared, grinning broadly, "just in case this is a trick."

Their _buir_ watched them, laughing quietly and shaking his head. After a moment he caught Ben's eyes. "Not going to join them?"

"I'll let them try it first," he replied, doing his best to hide his own amusement and almost certain he'd failed. "Safer that way."

The way he'd very deliberately echoed Cody's words didn't go unnoticed. "You've picked up just as much from your Commander as he has from you," his _buir_ commented, then gave him a light shove to the shoulder to get him walking, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Come on. That's supposed to be dessert. You don't want to miss their faces."

Letting the suddenly much lighter and more buoyant atmosphere carry him along, Ben chuckled and led his _buir_ through into the dining area.

Jango, an expression of evident enjoyment on his face, had a spoonful of the pudding in his mouth, and Cody was watching him suspiciously, trying to decide whether he was faking.

Helix had a very skeptical expression on his own face as he picked up a spoonful of the off-white gelatinous looking stuff and sniffed at it. "You sure this is edible?" He asked. "It doesn't smell like much of anything."

Jango said nothing, but smirked around the spoon as he swallowed. "Of course it is. You don't have to eat it. I'll finish off whatever you don't."

That was exactly the right thing to say to have all seven _Vod'e_ possessively grabbing servings of their own of whatever the stuff was. Ben watched them knowingly as they continued to warily eye Jango and then their food, such as it was, before spoons made their way to each of them and they exchanged looks, visibly asking each other who was going to go first.

Wooley shrugged at them after a moment, sure that his _Vod'e_ would avenge him, if this truly was a trick, and carefully took an experimental taste of the pudding.

The moment he did, his eyes went wide, and he groaned. "Force, what _is_ this stuff?"

Jango smirked and said nothing.

Now bolder and even more curious, the other six _Vod'e_ followed Wooley's example, and all reacted much the same way.

Helix pulled his spoon out of his mouth and asked, "Just how many kriffing calories _are there_ in a serving of whatever this is?"

"A lot," Crys said, "it's amazing."

"Who cares?" Waxer chimed in, getting nods of agreement from Longshot and Boil.

Ben smirked. "Well, it's not like you need to watch your figures," he teased, and got seven identical offended looks.

"Why aren't you eating any, then, General?" Helix asked. "You need the calories just as much as we do."

"Or more," Cody jumped in. He picked up a bowl and a spoon and shoved them at Ben. "Here. Eat."

"Better grab yours before it vanishes, _buir_ ," Jango suggested, laughing. "And that's just the dessert, not the meal itself, _vod'ike_."

"I don't even care, right now," Longshot informed him solemnly. "I think I want to marry it."

Ben caught his trooper's eyes. "That marriage would last about ten minutes, all told," he said with a smirk. "And then you'd be looking for a new partner." 

That caught their sniper off guard, and Longshot almost choked on his next mouthful, laughing, which set all the others off, snickering and jeering.

Their _buir_ snorted, and moved to get the trays that contained their meals, saying, "Hopefully he'll learn something about stamina from this," his voice desert dry, and got all of the _Vod'e_ laughing even harder.

The Force screamed a warning at him --

\-- and Ben opened his eyes with a pained groan, his ears ringing and his body aching from his hair down to his fingertips, to find Helix leaning over him, looking afraid.

What--? What the kriff had just happened?

He tried to get up, and Helix immediately shoved him right back down, saying something Ben couldn't properly hear. Ben looked down at himself. Oh, he seemed to be bleeding.

He didn't hurt, though, so it couldn't have been as serious as Helix was making it out to be. He began the process of stubbornly pushing Helix away long enough to get to his feet, which took a lot of effort, what with the way the medic tried to make sure he did no such thing.

Helix tried to grab him and get him to lie back down, but that wasn't anything Ben was prepared to allow. He caught his medic's eyes and started signing, glad he'd picked up the silent language. _Sitrep?_

His medic glared at him. _Possible broken ribs, concussion, hearing issues, and gash to left side._

Nothing life threatening, then. Good.

He could let Helix fuss over him later.

Ben reached for the 'sabre at his belt. He had a feeling he was going to need it. The sounds of blaster fire elsewhere in the suite sounded like they were both klicks away and underwater, muffled and distant.

Forcing the growing sting in his side away, Ben grabbed for his bucket, thankfully lying on the floor nearby, with his off hand and paid no further attention to Helix's attempts to speak to him. He was sure, judging by the way his medic was buzzing worriedly in the Force, that all Helix was doing was swearing at him. The other six of his men were stressed and angry, but it was a very laserlike, targeted feeling, directed at whoever had _dared_ attack them in their home.

Cramming his bucket back on his head, Ben hurried out of the dining area, igniting his sabre as he went, and emerged into chaos. The moment he was visible, all of the enemy fire in the area was focused on him. If anyone tried to speak to him, he didn't hear it.

The emotions coming from the enemies just beyond their doorway and in the corridor were a wash of rage and aggression, and sent a shiver down his spine with their intensity.

Taking in the situation at a glance, Ben took stock.

There were only six enemy fighters, but they'd brought at least three assassin droids with them. Older models than the ones he'd been seeing lately, but still more than deadly enough to take out a target unaware of their presence. And too karking good for comfort at fighting those who were.

His _Vod'e_ and Jango had been forced to split up, leaving Crys and Longshot at one end of the corridor, taking pot shots at the droids as best they could while also fending off the three Death Watch. His _buir_ , Cody, and Wooley had ducked behind various pieces of furniture in the suite, trying to use them for cover, and ended up spending more time dodging than fighting as the droids simply started shredding the objects they were hiding behind.

Waxer and Boil had managed to get out of one window and back in a second, farther down the corridor, in an attempt to flank the droids, but their fire was proving to be less effective than they'd clearly hoped.

Reaching for the Force, Ben leapt across the room, his 'sabre already in motion. He sliced the head off of one droid, and an arm off a second. Before his feet had touched the ground, it had already aimed at him with the other gun and was firing.

The shot got deflected off his 'sabre and into the third droid in the suite. That one immediately began targeting him, as well, which had Helix and Cody taking aim at it. Ben knew he just needed to hold its attention for another second or two, and smiled, the expression all teeth.

His _Vod'e_ were truly the finest troops he could ever have imagined.

Blocking two more shots from the droids, Ben felt more than saw two blaster shots hit the still intact one to his left, destroying its head, as his 'sabre flashed up and through the second droid's other arm.

Having lost its blasters, the droid attempted to pull out a vibroknife, but it only got as far as reaching for the weapon before Wooley had leapt onto its back and wrenched viciously at the power cables connecting its head to its body. His trooper rode it down to the floor as it collapsed, deactivated, and Ben ran out into the corridor, trusting that his men would check the droids just to be _completely_ sure they were dealt with.

One could never be too sure where those horrid things were concerned, and they all knew it.

Ben reached out for Waxer, Longshot, and Crys through their new bonds, and got back simple acknowledgements that wordlessly said _we're here, we're fine_.

The four of them that had made it into the corridor managed to fire two more volleys each before the Force screamed another warning. Ben looked up just in time to see a grenade arcing towards him, already primed to explode and the throw carefully timed so that it would go off in mid-air.

Reaching out with the Force in an attempt to grab onto it and contain the detonation, Ben hurriedly --

\-- opened his eyes to see Helix staring down at him in a mixture of worry, fear, and anger. Cody stood at their medic's shoulder, and radiated the same mix of emotions. 

_General?_ Cody signed at him, _You'll be alright; two to three weeks of recovery time without bacta or your own skills. Cracked ribs caused by the first detonation are broken now. Eardrums are damaged but will heal._

Ben tried to reach up to rub at his forehead and discovered that Helix had found restraints somewhere.

Glaring up at his medic, he tugged pointedly at his wrists.

He could easily use the Force to undo the ties, but he wanted to save that trick for a moment when he needed to do more than make a point. Once Helix realised he could do that, he'd turn his ingenuity toward engineering something Ben couldn't easily open.

Helix glared right back, and signed. _Only if you stay the kriff in bed._

Ben let his head fall back against what he assumed was the thin pillow of a bed in the palace's infirmary. The clinic was still being repaired, and he didn't think he'd been out that long.

Drawing a deeper breath and forcing himself to ignore the sharp aches that the movement sent through him. Ben gritted his teeth and nodded.

He could do plenty to be useful, even if he happened to be lying flat on his back when he did it.

This would have been a time when being good at Force Healing would have been helpful, he thought sourly, and started repairing what he could. The broken ribs he could stabilise, and he could mitigate the damage to his eardrums, as well, to a point.

After a few seconds, he felt gentle hands at his left wrist. Helix was sloughing waves of reluctance and worry into the Force, clearly not happy with the idea of giving him enough freedom to risk having him walking around while injured.

Ben found he didn't mind the protectiveness as much as he might have aboard the _Negotiator_. His men cared about him and wanted to make sure he wasn't hurting, and he appreciated that. The thing was… he didn't have the _time_ to just lie in bed right now. He needed to check on Jango and _buir_ and the rest of the _Vod'e_. He wouldn't be able to rest properly without knowing they were also taken care of.

Cody caught his attention again once his left hand was free, catching it in his own still-armoured ones, and making Ben realise belatedly that he'd been stripped out of his armour. Cody waited for him look up before he let go again. _More news,_ he signed. _Keep calm._

That sent a shock of worry and fear down Ben's spine to coil in the pit of his stomach. _What happened?_

Cody winced. _Other casualties,_ he replied, swallowing hard. _Crys and Longshot are missing. Probably in enemy hands. Boil is hurt. Blaster wound to shoulder. Waxer is very upset. Thought you were dead._

Reflexively, Ben tried to stand, needing to get to Boil, to calm Waxer, and try to find the two missing _Vod'e_.

Helix caught his shoulders again, and glared at him. The silent _no_ , all but echoed in the air as their eyes locked.

Jango limped into the room, then, breaking up the battle of wills. Ben took in his _ori'vod_ , noting the scorchmarks on his armour that had yet to be cleaned off and the deep furrows that had likely been caused by vibroknives carried by the assassin droids. His face, when he took off his bucket, was drawn and pale. Exhausted. His hair was still damp with sweat and Ben swore he could smell blood, for all that he was pretty sure Jango hadn't taken any knife wounds.

His _ori'vod_ looked like he'd fought his way through hell and come out the other side.

Ben saw Jango's lips move, but the sounds refused to come clear.

 _He asked your status,_ Cody translated.

 _Injured but mobile,_ he reminded his Commander.

Cody snorted. _Stable,_ he agreed, _not mobile yet. Stay there._

Helix translated the exchange for Jango, who gave him an exasperated look, said a few words, then waited. 

Helix and Cody exchanged a baffled look, and Ben got the impression that Jango had asked them to say something their battle signs couldn't communicate.

Eventually, Cody hesitantly tried, _Brother's General says rest. He leads search._

Ben puzzled over that for a few seconds. Brother's General?

 _Need new signs for Brother and Brother's General,_ Cody added, looking like he hoped that would clear things up, and the pieces fell into place.

His men referred to one another either by their ranks or by their serial numbers in their signing, rather than by name. So Brother had to be Jango and Brother's General _buir_. Which meant that the _Mand'alor_ had to be leading the search for the missing _Vod'e_.

 _Progress?_ Ben asked, waiting for Cody to translate, again, and slowly getting frustrated by having to have a middleman. He needed his comm or datapad.

The moment he could understand people again, he was getting the kriff out of this bed, he decided. Cracked ribs or not. His _Vod'e_ needed him, and any search _not_ led by him would take too karking long.

In fact, he realised, feeling like an idiot for not seeing the obvious, he could try using the Force bonds he had with the missing _Vod'e_ to find them. It wouldn't do more than give them a direction to move in, but that would be more than enough to work with.

In a few hours he'd either manage to convince Helix to let him up, or simply walk out, depending on what his senses told him.

Cody's hand on his recalled him to the present. _General?_ He asked. _Alright?_

 _Planning,_ he replied. _Search progress?_

 _None yet,_ Cody told him, his mouth a flat unhappy line. _Prisoners are being questioned._

Ben glanced up at Jango, who looked like he was itching to go somewhere. Probably wanting to get back to _buir_ 's side.

 _Tell Brother to go back to his General and assist,_ he said, _I will try another method._

The statement got Cody to glance at him in surprise, then nod, looking hopeful. _Copy._

While Cody was relaying that information, Ben closed his eyes and took as careful a breath as he could manage. After a moment, Ben felt Jango leave the room, apparently satisfied that the injuries to his _vod'ike_ were being adequately treated, and just as anxious to get Crys and Longshot back as the rest of them were.

He was no stranger to cracked ribs, and even though he could ignore the pain and meditate through it, it would be easier to just be mindful of his breathing for a moment.

Sometime during the combat he’d unconsciously thrown up his regular mental shields. A good habit to be in, but one that clearly had distressed Waxer. He didn’t let himself dwell on it. Self recriminations could come later. Now, he had to find Crys and Longshot.

He steadied his breathing, shoving aside as much of the pain of his injuries as he could, and lowered his shields, reaching out to his _Vod’e_.

It was a mistake.

Waxer reached out and grabbed a hold of his mind with the desperation of a dying man, desperate to know that he was alright, that his General wasn't lost to him like Crys and Longshot were, right now.

Rage, pain, and fear slammed into him with such intensity that they actually carried images right along with them. Boil wrapped in bandages, pale and drawn on his bed. The scent of blood and blaster fire. An aching, yawning sense of loss, and an unquenchable anger.

Every one of those sensations was reinforced by the network of weaker Force bonds between the rest of the _Vod’e_. 

Ben was utterly unprepared for the sheer ferocity of the emotions rolling off them. 

He gasped and arched up off the bed as he was dragged into a whirling maelstrom of fury and fear. The harder he struggled, the tighter the _Vod’e_ held on to him; their fear of losing him was tangible in the air.

It was like being tossed into the heart of one of Kamino's fierce rotating storms. He couldn’t breathe under the weight of it, feeling like he was being buffeted by bruising winds he couldn't escape.

His men were gone, _taken_ , by evil people who would kill children for the sake of making a point. Every injury they took, he took. Every loss and hurt and terror they felt, he felt. 

Ben reached out with his mind in an attempt to grab on to the distant, dangling threads of his connection to Crys and Longshot long enough to find them. 

They were scared. They were hurt and so, so scared.

 _They’re alive_ , some small part of him whispered. A little flame of hope in the Dark.

It lasted mere moments before it was drowned out by the rage. 

Someone had _dared_ to harm what was _his_. His brothers, his _family_. All he had to do to get them back was hunt down the fools responsible and wipe them from the face of the planet. It would be so very easy. 

This was all his fault anyways. Everyone Ben ever cared about was always taken from him. He’d tried not to get so close, to protect them, and this was exactly why. 

Power crackled around him, thick as oil and twice as black. Ben struggled against it. 

This wasn’t him. He couldn’t do this.

The rage was a monster and it was trying to eat him whole.

Just a little flex of power, it whispered, and Ben could have his _Vod’e_ back. The Jedi had wiped out Mandalore once, burned it down to barren bedrock. It wouldn’t be so hard to do that again. It would be a cleansing, really. Death Watch had to die. Killing them would be a service to the galaxy, and if they happened to suffer a little for their sins as they went, that was simple justice.

All he had to do was _try_.

Ben scraped up his will and slammed his shields shut. Suddenly cut off from the anger that had been pouring into him, the Dark had nothing to hold on to. Slowly, it slipped away, releasing its hold on him, and he found himself half-curled up on his bed, sobbing, Helix and Cody pinning him down with a kind of terrified strength.

It took some indeterminate length of time for them to let go, and once they did Ben wrapped his mind around the Light inside of him and tried to turn himself into the tiniest ball he could. Everything hurt, but that was preferable to getting lost in that rage.

There were sheets under him, soft on what little skin was showing through clothes and bandages. Hot tears trailed down his face. He was shaking, but that meant he had a body to shake with and he wasn’t just a speck floating in the Force. 

_Not me, not me, not me. Not my_ Vod’e. _Not us. That wasn’t us, that was the Dark. There is no emotion, there is only peace. There is no emotion, there is only peace._

Gradually, more awareness returned, and Ben realised Helix was trying to get his attention. That there was now one more _Vod_ in the room, and that he needed to focus enough to find out what was going on.

Forcing fists he'd unconsciously clenched to open with a sensation that reminded him of creaking hinges, and uncurling himself inch by inch, Ben let Helix check his injured ribs again, to make sure he hadn't done any more damage to himself.

After about a minute of that, Helix stepped back far enough to scowl at him. _You got lucky. Didn't get worse,_ he signed, very grumpily, then turned to the other _Vod_ in the room and said something.

When Waxer stepped around the medic and burrowed under Ben's arm, carefully wrapping his arms around Ben's waist and using no pressure at all, Ben swallowed hard.

Right. Feeling him putting up his shields would've been really hard for Waxer to bear right on the heels of losing contact during the attack and then getting him back for… however long it had been.

Ben ran his hands through Waxer's still-short hair, soothing the _Vod_ clinging to him as best he could, when he was still shaking and coming back down off of his reaction to his troopers' emotions.

 _Kriff it all,_ he thought, letting the thought take on a vicious cutting edge. He was caught between two bad options, where his men were concerned, and he didn't like the idea of the consequences either one would have.

Open himself up to the bond to use it to track down Crys and Longshot and risk Falling because his men were all too upset to be rational? And, he realised, they'd likely had the same reaction as Waxer to feeling him flicker in and out of their bond, kark, he was such an idiot; why the kriff had he gone and completed those Force bonds?

Or keep the bonds shielded and only open himself up to it periodically, in the hopes that he could use those short pings to find his two missing _Vod'e_ while not risking what he did if he left the bond open? That could upset all three of his bonded _Vod'e_ enough that he might well risk Falling anyway if he tried that approach.

Kriffed if you do, and kriffed if you don't.

Ben carefully started peeling Waxer's arms free of his waist, trying to urge the distraught _Vod_ to sit up and look at him.

 _Waxer,_ he signed, _I have to stay..._ he searched for the best word. They didn't have a sign for 'mentally shielded'. _closed off. Or I might go Dark._

Waxer looked at him in concern, then at Cody and Helix. _Go dark?_ He asked after a moment, clearly not having quite grasped that Ben meant the Dark Side and not a comms-silent mission.

Not being able to speak to people normally was so frustrating at times. Ben tried again. _Go Dark. Sith,_ he signed. _Vod'e are_ very _angry, right now. Overwhelming force._

That got through. Cody stared at him for a long second in surprise, then swore. _Unavoidable obstacle,_ he conceded.

All of them were well aware that trying to get the _Vod'e_ to _not_ feel that anger right now was a fight none of them would be able to win.

 _Next attempt in a few hours,_ Ben suggested. _Recovery time needed._

That last got a swell of irritated agreement out of Helix, and Ben gave the medic his most innocent smile.

Waxer shook his head in a mix of resignation and frustration.

 _Rest, General,_ the medic suggested. _We'll pass along the plan. Maybe in a few hours you'll be mobile again._

Ben huffed at him, ignoring the way that made his ribs protest.

Maybe.

He'd make sure of it.


	16. Chapter 16

\--- POV: Young Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

Obi-Wan Kenobi woke up screaming.

He’d only just been assigned his own bedroom in the crèche a few months ago. At the time he’d been so excited he could burst. Now he regretted the move bitterly. It would have been nice not to wake up alone.

Tears poured down his face as he scrubbed his cheeks with the back of his hand. He squeezed his little plush loth-cat as a soft, high whimpering sound came out of his mouth against his will.

The nightmare was awful. Just awful. He didn’t understand. 

He sat there for a minute or two, trying to breathe and figure out what to do. The nightmare pressed down on him. He was cold and damp with sweat at the same time, and his blankets didn’t seem safe any more.

When the tears wouldn’t stop, Obi-Wan crawled out of his bed and crept his way out of his room towards Crèche Master Tinna’s rooms. Her door was programmed to open to any of the initiates in the Thranta Clan, so Obi-Wan knew that he could go there no matter what time of night. 

Obi-Wan made it about as far as her sitting room before his legs gave out.

“Master Tinna? Master Tinna?!” he cried, squeezing his plushie tightly. The soft little nubs of the loth-cat’s horns were soothing against his cheek and he rubbed them back and forth.

“Obi-Wan? Force! What’s wrong?” Then Master Tinna was there, pulling him onto her lap and wrapping him in a blanket.

“I-- I had-- I had a bad dream!” Obi-Wan wailed, clinging to her sleeping robes tightly. “I was eating dinner 'nd, 'nd, my brothers were there 'nd then everything was on _fire_ 'nd there were blasters 'nd mean d-droids 'nd--” 

He couldn’t keep up the narrative. Images of terrifyingly huge droids and large men in black armor flashed through his head. The words caught in this throat.

Master Tinna laid a soft hand on his head, and suddenly he wasn’t alone. She was there with him, standing next to him in his mind. She watched as another version of him dressed in green armor drew a lightsabre and proceeded to cut and kill, and then get blown up.

“Force save us,” she whispered, dropping her hand in a rush. 

“It was _real_! I know it was!” he sobbed. 

She rocked him back and forth and hummed softly. Her worry was palpable to him under the stark terror of the dream. “I know, dear one. I know.”

\--- POV: Yan Dooku---

While Yan didn’t particularly care for long trips in hyperspace, he found that he enjoyed the extra time for reflection that it granted him. So it was with some measure of relief that he mentally prepared himself for their trip back to Coruscant, despite the fact that they’d been quite obviously escorted off the planet under armed guard. A polite armed guard, to be sure, considering it was composed of the _Mand'alor_ ’s children, but they were still lethal combatants. 

It was a layered political move, and one that left Yan feeling somewhat impressed. The armed guard and their immediate removal showed that the _Mand'alor_ wanted them gone. Or that he knew that the rest of the council wanted them gone. It was politely done, with lip service paid to their other responsibilities, which allowed everyone to save face. The armed guard was Jango, and then Cody and two of his brothers, which meant that the _Mand'alor_ was effectively personally seeing them off. That could be positive or negative. It was an honor to be escorted by the _Mand'alor_ ’s children. But the _Mand'alor_ ’s children were also incredibly competent warriors, so it could have been a reassurance for the rest of the council as well. 

Yan found himself bothered by the fact that Ben had not joined them. That was unexpected, and he got the feeling that if Ben had been available, he would have come. Which begged the question, what was Ben doing that could so effectively distract him?

Also, what exactly had Qui-Gon done in the council room prior to Yan and Mace’s arrival that had netted them such an escort? Yan was reasonably certain that _something_ had happened. For all their militaristic tendencies, Mandalorians didn't seem to give their visitors armed escorts often. 

It was very curious.

By mutual agreement, Yan, Qui-Gon, and Mace had decided to debrief and discuss matters after taking some time to decompress and think the situation over.

Mace always seemed to enjoy his time at the helm, so Yan and Qui-Gon had left him to it soon after their departure, grateful for the chance to sort themselves out. Qui-Gon had taken the opportunity to spend the afternoon meditating, while Yan had retired to his private bunk to ruminate on the last week’s events. 

During their shared evening meal, Qui-Gon relayed the events that had transpired in the Council room before he’d been asked to comm Mace and Yan.

“You Mind Tricked him, right in front of the Mandalorian ruling council?” Mace asked. Disappointment and exasperation just barely managed to break through his usual calm.

“It was the best option,” Qui-Gon defended mildly as he lifted his cup of tea to take a sip. “The _Mand’alor_ and his people need to know where to find this terrorist group before more innocent lives are lost in another bombing.”

Yan sat back in his chair and rubbed his thumb against his goatee as he considered their exit from the planet.

“A simple Mind Trick doesn’t do any harm, and it does occasionally get results,” Yan mused. He allowed a note of uncertainty in his tone. _Useful_ wasn’t always the same as _wise_ , and he’d thought his old padawan knew that. Then again, if lives were at stake...

“From the feel of them in the Force, the Councilmembers didn’t enjoy your demonstration,” Mace said. His voice held a small measure of rebuke. 

“And yet the _Mand’alor_ and his son helped with the questioning.” Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at him. “Many beings are unsettled by Jedi Mind Tricks, and half of that is because of the rumors about them, and us. With Ben there to explain, their confusion and upset will pass,” he said dismissively.

“Why didn’t you do that?” Mace returned the pointedly raised eyebrow.

“The traitor was already there in the room watching. If I had detailed out the process, it would have given him warning and thus made the Mind Trick less likely to succeed.” Qui-Gon shrugged and took a bite of his dinner. 

Mace sighed and Yan hummed quietly.

“He does have a point, Mace,” Yan said after a moment.

“I know.” Mace didn’t sound thrilled about that. He shook his head and stabbed the reconstituted nerf loaf on his plate. “Either way, it’s you who has to deal with the fall out. You and Ben.”

Yan wasn’t terribly worried. “If the information they obtained was as useful as I suspect that it might be, then that will temper their distaste of the method. Besides, certainly a Mind Trick is better than torture?”

Mace muttered something under his breath, but left the conversation at that.

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully. They discussed the testing a bit further, simply retreading the same ground, for the most part, and then retired to their cabins for some rest. Since they were already on a set course in hyperspace, constant attendance at the helm wasn’t necessary, though Mace seemed to appreciate spending time there anyways. The ship's navigation systems took care of most of the details. 

Before Yan could settle in to sleep for the night, his thoughts were interrupted by a comm.

It was his dear friend, Sifo-Dyas. 

“Hello, Sy,” Yan said warmly. A hint of a smile curled at his lips. Yan wasn’t the most expressive of men, but he and Sifo-Dyas had been crèche mates together and had remained close since then. He let his guard down around Sy like he did with no one else. 

“Doo,” Sifo-Dyas answered. There was urgency and worry in his voice, and even in the holo projection he looked in disarray. There was no color in the image, just the static blue of a comm holo, but his long, normally neatly tied up hair was wild and loose, as if he’d taken it down for bed but never properly gotten it fixed up again. He wore his robes as if he’d hastily donned them, and from the way that the holo only showed his upper body, Yan suspected that he was sitting in bed or on his couch. 

“Doo, I’ve got a… an _issue_.”

Yan leaned forward, all good humor having fled in the wake of that statement. Sy was often plagued by horrifically strong Force visions. As kindly as Yan liked to think on his old master, Yoda, the frustrating little troll was often dismissive of such portents, and the High Council often followed his lead. More than once this had left Sifo-Dyas in the unfortunate position of having foreknowledge of something and no one who would actually _do_ anything about it. 

There was only so much Yan could do to help, but he did try.

“What’s happened?” he asked.

“Nothing to me, for once.” Sy laughed briefly and then looked down. “But I have an initiate here who’d been woken up from a screaming nightmare. A Force vision of assassin droids and men in black Mandalorian armor fighting a Jedi with a blue 'sabre. His crèche master brought him to me when he wouldn't calm.”

A deep pool of dread filled Yan’s gut. “Oh? And what did you See when your young initiate friend explained his nightmare?”

Sifo-Dyas looked at him with wide pleading eyes. “You need to get back to Mandalore. They need you there.” Before Yan could do more than open his mouth, Sy held up a hand. “I know, I know. Mace needs to get back here to report. I’ve already talked to Master Yoda and a few others. The Council won’t agree to letting you turn around right away.”

His mouth twisted unhappily.

“The future is always in motion,” Yan muttered bitterly. That phrase had become an unpleasant tagline between them; a blanket acknowledgement that many would rather stick their heads in the mud and avoid signs of danger than deal with the unpleasant task of actually facing the problem head on.

A little voice in Yan’s head nagged at him that it was more complicated than that, but past experience had made him a bit sour on the subject.

“Yeah.” Sy grimaced and ran his hand through his messy hair.

“Can you tell me anything else?” Yan asked.

Sy shook his head. “The youngling’s vision was disjointed. Fighting. Explosions. Pain. I can only guess that this was about the wayward initiate that you tested. The most that the Force would tell me is that there was something you needed to help with on Mandalore.”

Apparently, the Council didn’t agree.

But Yan knew his friend well. Better than anyone else, perhaps.

“Have you commed Mandalore yet?” he asked.

Sy shook his head. “The youngling is certain that the events in his dream have already come to pass. My instincts support that.”

If the attack was over with and the damage already done, then there was little that the Jedi could do. That wasn’t even considering the potential political problems. Comming Mandalore just after an attack with the intent to discuss said attack would only cause the Mandalorians to suspect them. Ben would know better, but there was a good chance that Ben was rather busy.

Yan held back a grimace.

Still. Sy had contacted him in the middle of his sleep cycle for a reason. 

“You’re planning to send me back as soon as we land.” Yan’s mouth twitched into a half-smirk.

Had Sy called him any sooner, had he found out about this before it was too late to assist, Yan might have insisted they turn around and go back to Sundari regardless of what the Council wanted. At least it was likely that Ben had managed to contain the damage. That youngling was frighteningly competent for his age, even taking into account that Yan believed his tale about having achieved the rank of Jedi Master. 

Yan knew very well that anything he could do now -- with or without the assistance of the Knights he would bring with him on his trip back to Mandalore -- would likely be too little, too late. The disaster that Sy and the unnamed initiate had Foreseen had already happened, and yet he found that the delay pricked at him despite his relief at having his good friend's unconditional support in the matter.

Sy’s expression mirrored his. “Yes. I’ll have a ship ready. Based on Mace’s previous reports, the Council has some tentative suggestions on the number of Jedi to send with you to help deal with the insurgents. I’d like your input on that, and I also need a list of things you want from your room. I have a feeling that this trip will be a long one for you.”

It went without saying that Sy already had the lock combination to Yan’s rooms at the Temple. As Yan had his. 

Yan sat back in his chair and rubbed a thumb over his lips as he thought. Who to take?

“There is a great deal of politicking happening on Mandalore,” he said.

“More than you can deal with? Or just more than you want to deal with?” Sifo-Dyas asked knowingly.

“Perhaps a bit of both, if we are to do our jobs properly with the Death Watch,” Yan answered with an easy smile. “I would almost suggest Qui-Gon again, except… the _Mand'alor_ ’s adopted children do not like him, and I don’t know why. Moreover, the Mandalorians seem to be unsettled and hostile towards Force users in general. Perhaps it is just our shared history of antipathy...” He frowned and rubbed at his goatee. “There are pieces to this puzzle that I am missing. Ben and his brothers are too good at guarding their words, and Mace and Qui-Gon and I were hurried off-planet before I could investigate further.”

“Hmmm. If you bring him along, it might screw up relations with the ruling family.”

“Yes, it very well could. But it could also give me more clues as to what Ben is unwilling to say.” Yan sighed. He didn’t like that option, and it felt somewhat conniving to even consider it.

But he knew it would work.

“... Do you think Qui-Gon will kar-- uh. Mess things up enough to actually cause an incident?”

Yan furrowed his brow. Sifo-Dyas had actually stopped himself from cursing, when they were speaking in private. Most unusual. 

He let the matter slide for a moment and instead answered the question.

“I don’t _think_ so.”

Sy huffed in laughter. “But the future is always in motion.”

“Indeed.” Yan smiled at their own private in-joke. 

Force, he missed Sy. Talking over comms was fine, but he wanted to be in the same room with him and share a pot of tea. To talk and share the closeness with each other that they found nowhere else.

It had been months since the last time they’d had a chance to meet up in person for more than a day. It was necessary, he reminded himself. They both had duties to attend to. 

“Take him, then,” Sy said with a nod. “You’ll have to take his padawan too. Maybe you can slap some sense into the bra-- er, kid.” He glanced downward again with a slightly worried look on his face. Yan raised an eyebrow. “Anyone else you think might do good?”

Yan thought for a moment. “At least five knights. And… This is going to sound unreasonable, but… if he is willing, ask Master Koon.”

“Plo Koon?” Sy’s face twisted in confusion. “Why? He’s an impressive fighter, but really? Do you think this mission really needs five knights, two masters, _and_ a Council member?”

“The children, Ben’s brothers, asked after him by name during our visit.”

He let that statement -- and all that it implied -- soak in.

“Huh.” Sifo-Dyas frowned and looked thoughtful. 

“At the very least, whatever ire they have for Qui-Gon could be counterbalanced by Master Koon’s presence there,” Yan pointed out.

“Crafty as always, Doo.” Sy smiled at him. It made Yan want to preen a little. Just a little. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do. We’re scheduled to hear your collective report tomorrow afternoon. I can try to-- hey!” He glanced down again and moved slightly out of the holo range.

“Can I say hi?” a soft, high voice said through the comm, barely loud enough to be picked up by the mic.

“Sure,” Sy said with an easy smile. 

He dropped out of sight entirely for a moment, and then came back up with a very little boy perched in his lap. Suddenly, Yan was looking at a startlingly familiar face. Younger, yes, but the chin was the same. The shape of the eyes. He had to wonder if the hair would be red, too, and if the eyes were the same familiar blue-green?

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, this is my closest friend, Master Dooku,” Sy said with an indulgent smile.

“Hello, Master Doo-ku,” Obi-Wan said with a tentative smile. He had a small stuffed animal held close to his chest and he was in his sleeping clothes. Yan also didn’t miss the way he clung to Sy like the man was a lifeline. But his whole body lifted with his smile, and his manner was warm and inviting. 

“Hello, youngling,” Yan said a bit distantly. It couldn’t be. They couldn’t be the same…

 _Force_. 

Knowing what little he did about Ben’s padawanship and how clearly traumatic it must have been, what the kriffing sith-hells was he going to do about Obi-Wan Kenobi?

\--

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Watching his General sign to Helix that he needed recovery time had been bad.

Seeing him fall unconscious with an exhausted sigh and Waxer go frantic had been even worse.

Cody'd had to shove all of his own worries and fears -- and, yes, lingering anger -- over his missing _Vod'e_ aside, to help the _Vod_ in front of him who was on the verge of a breakdown. He'd felt Helix do much the same, a shift in awareness that only finding out about their suspected Force bonds had allowed him to pinpoint.

Waxer, pale and trembling and fighting anxious tears, had stood there, staring down at their General in stark horror, when Kenobi's eyes had closed, and Cody could tell Waxer was clinging to the last shreds of his composure with his teeth and fingernails.

"Easy, _Vod_ ," he said, stepping in close and putting his hand at the nape of Waxer's neck long enough to give him a comforting -- warm, living -- touch to ground him. "General's alive. Not fine, but alive."

Helix picked up the thread seamlessly, taking Waxer's left hand in his right and guiding it to Kenobi's wrist, making sure Waxer's fingers ended up on the General's pulse point. "He's still with us," their medic said, keeping his voice carefully calm and reassuring. "See? He's breathing easily despite those ribs of his, and his heartrate is fine. Though we really should get some liquids in him."

Drawing a very shaky breath, Waxer nodded, the movement stiff and jerky, before he withdrew his hand. "Liquids. Right. We--" He swallowed. "Think we can find him some tea?"

"Did you manage to win any in those bets you placed?" Cody asked him, glad of the minor diversion.

"Crys did, I think. Off some _verd_ who claimed he never liked the stuff anyway," Waxer answered without thinking, then tensed, realising Crys wasn't around to offer the General what he'd been so proud of scoring.

Helix hissed a few curses under his breath. "No, not now, _Vod_. We'll let _buir_ worry about our _Vod'e_ for an hour or two. The General needs the rest and _so do you._ None of us is combat ready, right now."

"I--" Waxer tried, then cut himself off as a shudder wracked him. "Helix, I _felt_ him fighting us. Fighting _me_ ," he said, distraught again, and Cody's eyes went wide.

Oh Kriff. Was _that_ what Kenobi had meant by karking _overwhelming force_?

"Fighting us?" Helix asked delicately, carefully requesting more detail.

"He--" Waxer stumbled over his own tongue again, "He reopened the bond; I could suddenly feel him again, and it was stronger than he let it be, earlier. Like he was standing right next to me, even though I was in the room with Boil. And I'm not sure what happened next, but he was trying to push me away. Scared. Of me. Of _us_."

Cody felt his _Vod_ start to shake again, and shifted to turn his hold into an arm around Waxer's shoulders, wordlessly offering shelter. Waxer immediately turned and wrapped his arms around his Commander, clinging to him.

Exchanging a look with Helix, Cody asked, "Think that's what made him convulse like he did?"

"It's possible. He did try to warn us that those bonds were dangerous, but he didn't karking specify _how_ dangerous, or what they might do to him," Helix replied with a dark scowl. "I'm going to get an IV in him, and then you're going to keep an eye on him while I get Boil and Wooley in here."

Waxer sniffled, miserable. "He keeps saying the Dark Side is bad. What he didn't tell us was how kriffing _terrifying_ it is," he added. "I don't know what you felt, or if you felt it at all, but the General… He was contemplating genocide. What I felt… it _wasn't him_. General Kenobi would _never_ do that. But he was planning to follow through. I could feel him do it."

Cody listened, keeping quiet as Helix started rummaging through the infirmary for what he needed, complaining at the general lack of supplies and swearing that it would be updated in the next rotation, if he had his way about it. What he'd felt had been muted at best, and he'd been very effectively distracted from whatever might have been going on with Waxer's bond by the way his General had started writhing on the bed like one of those vicious sea-dwelling snakes they'd occasionally spotted on Kamino.

"Maybe he was right," Waxer finished, sounding defeated and tired. "Maybe completing those bonds _was_ a mistake."

Helix, having finally found what he wanted, returned with a bag of saline and an IV line, starting to efficiently get everything in place. "Even if it was, _Vod_ , it's done now, and we have to learn to live with it," their medic said, practicality at the forefront of his mind as always, as he hung the bag and gently inserted the needle at the end of the line, then taped it in place. "He needs us just as much as we need him, and it will do him a world of good to feel that as well as know it, so I, for one, don't regret that this happened, minor kark up or not."

"I'm inclined to agree," Cody put in, "but Waxer's right, too. We'll have to get our own feelings under control. We can't risk pulling the General that off balance. Not again. If it was bad enough that _he_ was willing to admit he needed recovery time..."

He let the sentence trail off, knowing his _Vod'e_ would catch his meaning. The mere fact that Kenobi's injuries hadn't made him so much as flinch away from the thought of just powering on through the search for their missing _Vod'e_ , but _this_ had? That was telling.

Kark, he hadn't even noticed they were that angry, either. It was just the way things were. On Kamino, they'd fed on one another, he realised. Fed into one anothers' anger whenever a _Vod_ was torn from them. They were simply _used to_ the pounding rage that swept over them when one of their own was taken from them like that.

But now that he was looking for it, he could see it, feel it at his temples, in every beat of his heart.

Realising he was only making things worse by letting himself feel it, Cody shoved his anger into a box and let himself fall into one of those breathing exercises the General used with them every so often. He'd have to find a way to deal with it. There was no way he'd be successful here and now, given the tension in the room, and he knew it, but he -- and the rest of the _Vod'e_ \-- would have no choice but to let it go as the General did, if they wanted to have any chance of getting through the next few days. That much was blatantly obvious, considering what had just happened.

Waxer picked up on what he was doing a moment later and joined in, leaning against him and incrementally relaxing. Helix gave them an approving nod. "Good idea, Commander," he said, strong overtones of approval in his voice. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I doubt he'll wake just yet, but, if he does… Don't let the General mess with that IV."

"Copy that," Cody accepted the orders with a nod. "We've got him."

"Karking Force mishaps," Helix muttered, more or less under his breath, shook his head, and left the room.

Cody found he couldn't disagree with the sentiment.

He and Waxer stayed as they were, freshly battle-scarred armour and all, until Helix returned. The medic and Wooley were pushing a narrow, wheeled cot between them, a half-conscious Boil sprawled untidily on it, and Cody felt Waxer relax substantially at the sight of his _riduur_ , injured or not.

The cots were summarily shoved together, and Cody helped Helix get Waxer settled between their two injured men. Now that Waxer was calmer, it would do the three of them a world of good to be in physical contact. Helix pushed at Waxer's shoulders until the _Vod_ was sitting on the bed, and then prodded a bit more until Waxer was lying tucked under Kenobi's arm, in a position that didn't put much strain on the General's injuries.

Sure enough, the moment he was settled, Waxer's eyes fluttered shut and he was deeply asleep between one breath and the next, worn out just as badly as Kenobi was.

Good. Three of his charges were taken care of. Now he could deal with the other two.

And he'd thought he would be able to use his _Vod'e_ to help keep himself on an even keel, Cody thought wryly.

_A Commander's work is never done._

He would have to make sure he got Wooley and Helix settled in a better headspace, next. He could almost feel the way Wooley wanted to vibrate right out of his skin. Helix, who'd been able to channel his worry and anger into taking care of their General, was substantially better off, but still jumpy.

Thankfully, Cody knew that the breathing exercises they'd done had helped Wooley a lot, back at the clinic. There was a good chance they'd be effective again here and now.

"Wooley," he said quietly, watching his _Vod_ carefully and not liking the slump of exhaustion visible in Wooley's posture, "are you alright? Check in with me, _Vod_."

Using that particular phrasing in his request for information was entirely deliberate. It had originated on Kamino, and shunted rank and other such concerns aside to put them on an even footing until such time as they were both stable again. _Anything you say will stay between us,_ it said. And _I'm worried about you, tell me what you need_.

Wooley took a deep steadying breath in, forcing his spine straight again in the process, then slowly released it, not looking away from the three men on the pair of uncomfortable cots. "I think," he said after a few seconds that stretched, "I need to take Ardanna up on her offer. Our _Vod'e_ and the General could use the added layers of defenses." His eyes finally met Cody's, and the blaze of protective emotion visible there was heartening.

And so were the implications. Redirecting what he felt into something positive and productive would be good for Wooley, as well as for the rest of them.

Helix snorted. "That sounds like a good idea to me," he muttered. "You _or'dinii_ all have the General's bad habit of leaping first and looking afterwards."

Wooley huffed at him but directed his next words at Cody. "In the meantime, I just need to come back down. I didn't feel anything like what Waxer described," he said, copping to the fact that he'd been eavesdropping on them, just as worried about their General and Waxer as he was about Boil, or Crys and Longshot, "but it sure wasn't a kriffing walk in the gardens."

Cody nodded. "If that changes, you tell one of us," he demanded. "I won't make it an order, but this is important. We need to keep ourselves stable, so we can keep the General stable."

Wooley swallowed. "Understood."

Helix gave Wooley a quick once over, eyeing the state of the _Vod_ 's armour with a mix of disappointment and resignation. "You know," he put in wryly, "if these attacks keep coming this fast and hard, we may need an armourer of our own sooner than we thought we would. I don't think any of us came out of this skirmish without a blaster scorch or a knife gouge."

The comment got a small, wan, quirk of a smile out of Wooley. "Most of it was superficial, and you know it better than I do," he retorted. "The only actually serious injuries were the General and Boil's shoulder."

Thank the Force for small favours, Cody thought. That was bad enough. They had no idea what the status of their two missing _Vod'e_ was, but they all knew the pair was alive. Maybe, once he was awake again, their General could tell them more.

If he'd managed to get through.

"The only effective way to stop these attacks," Wooley pointed out, "is to eliminate the source."

"Show me a plan that will let us do that," Cody countered, "and I'll lead the kriffing charge myself. There are seven of us, and even with our General by our sides that's a karking small team to send on a mission like this. Assuming _buir_ doesn't attempt to nail our boots to the floor after this latest disaster. He'll be frantic until we can get Crys and Longshot back. Maybe worse than General Kenobi."

"He feels responsible for our safety," Helix said with a roll of his eyes. "Of course he's upset. Two of his _ad'e_ are badly injured enough to be on bed rest, two more have been kidnapped. Do you _really_ think we can convince him to let us do anything risky right now?"

Wooley shook his head. "Not a kriffing chance," he agreed with a sigh.

"We'll just have to reassure him, then," Cody decided.

Helix scoffed. "How exactly do you intend to do that?" He asked sarcastically. "Cuddle him like we do General Kenobi?"

Cody exchanged a look with Wooley. "We could certainly try?"

" _Ori'vod_ , too," Wooley suggested. "He's just as upset and worried."

"They need the support as much as we do, and they're probably as bad about asking for it as our General is," Cody added.

"I'm pretty sure Kenobi is way worse," Helix said, unconvinced, then sighed. "I guess we'll find out if your guess is accurate, Commander. But for now, we should deal with our confirmed casualties, rather than the ones we're only conjecturing about."

After what had happened, after the way the Death Watch and their droids had sliced right through the defenses around their suite as though there had been nothing there, Cody was reluctant to strip off any of his armour, and even going bucketless had been subtly itching at his nerves. He knew better than to let the strong impulse to hide under his _beskar_ alloy drive him. That way lay true paranoia and madness, but it was difficult not to give in to the temptation.

"Yeah," he managed to make himself say, and reached for the magnetic closures holding his pauldrons in place, "you're right. Come on, Wooley. Might as well join them and rest while we can."

"I'll take first watch," Helix told him firmly, his tone of voice and the stubborn set of his shoulders turning the suggestion into a command, "I'm not quite as worn down as the rest of you."

Suddenly weary, as though the words had brought the day crashing down on him, Cody nodded and fought not to waver on his feet as he removed the rest of his armour and started in on Waxer's. Wooley helped him once he was done taking his own _beskar_ off.

"Don't forget to get some rest, yourself, Helix," he said drily, well aware of the way that their medic tended to push his own limits just as badly as the rest of them.

"I could always sedate the lot of you and take a nap," Helix told him with a subtle smirk. "It'd be peaceful."

Cody just shook his head at his stubborn medic and carefully settled himself next to his General on the narrow cot. Wooley followed suit on Boil's other side.

Letting his eyes fall shut, Cody's last conscious thought was, _Our medics don't get enough credit for what they do. Kriffing heroes, the lot of them._

He woke with a pleased sound that caught in his throat to a hand in his hair and fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp. Blinking his eyes open and convincing them to focus took a little more effort than usual.

_Must've been more tired than I thought._

"General?" He asked, a bit muzzily.

"Yes, Cody?" Kenobi answered him readily, his hearing apparently close enough to normal again that he was comfortable using his words once more. The General kept his voice low in deference to the still-sleeping troopers clustered around them.

Full awareness returned, and memories of the previous day along with it. Cody had to fight the urge to fling himself off the cot and pace.

"Shhh," his General soothed him. "Helix told me you needed to sleep. So sleep."

That sneaky kriffing medic.

Cody sighed quietly and forced himself to relax again, as much as he could. "Not sure I can, now. Any news?"

His General made a quiet frustrated sound, then answered, "Nothing actionable. Much as I might wish otherwise. _Buir_ and Jango have been trying to get their prisoners to talk, but it's not working. Jango suspects they simply don't know the answers to the questions we're asking and are resisting on principle. So until I can track Crys and Longshot through our bonds without risking Falling, we're stuck without any leads." 

Cody winced. "Sorry about that, sir," he said quietly. "Until you told us you couldn't hold against the anger, I didn't even realise I felt it. It's… almost a part of us. We're so used to feeling it when a _Vod_ gets taken from us, that we barely know it's there. It just is."

His General nodded, accepting that, and slotting it into place alongside the rest of the knowledge he had of the _Vod'e_. "It caught me off guard," he admitted.

"We'll work on it," Cody told him.

The words got him an affectionate smile. "I know you will."

"What do you need from us, to find Crys and Longshot?" Cody asked, falling automatically into the mindset he knew he'd need, to solve that particular problem. Calm and analytical. As detached and objective as he could manage. 

General Kenobi gave him an approving nod. "Exactly what you just did."

What he'd--

Oh.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

A lot of things about what his General kept saying about the Jedi Code suddenly fell into place with a click he felt should have been audible.

"Okay," he said. "That should be doable. Might not be right away, with how upset Waxer was, but that… We can do that."

They were quiet for a few minutes, and Cody felt himself come on point incrementally. It was an odd feeling for how unusual it was. Normally, he had to be ready to act within moments of waking, but in that moment, oddly, he felt he could let himself take his time.

He should have been hurrying himself, trying to get to _buir_ or Jango to get news, or help his _Vod'e_ , or make sure his General was recovering well, and yet.

Something about the moment -- perhaps the new understanding he'd gained of General Kenobi's training and ways -- let him release a lot of that stress long enough to plant himself firmly back in his normal state of mental and emotional equilibrium.

Kenobi, clearly feeling him regain his usual poise, gave him an approving look. "There you are," he said, pleased. "You've been under so much pressure of late that I was beginning to wonder if you'd crack under it."

"Hardly," Cody said firmly. "It's been a very tough few weeks, but I'm fine."

"Nevertheless," General Kenobi reminded him, "if you need support, you know I'll do anything I can."

Helix picked that moment to interrupt, and, judging by his perfect timing, he'd been listening in on their conversation. "General," he asked, moving across the room and over to the pair of cots the group of them was sprawled over, "how are you feeling?"

"Like I went three rounds with a rabid gundark," Kenobi replied wryly, "but my hearing is back and once I spend a few more hours on them, my ribs will be healed over, as well."

Helix scowled. "I could swear I've said this before, General," he muttered. "Force healing yourself on an empty stomach is a _terrible idea._ If you keep doing that I'm going to put you on a kriffing dextrose drip."

It was a testament to how serious Kenobi felt the situation was, that he didn't protest that. "Do it, then. I need to get back out of this bed as soon as I kriffing well can. Crys and Longshot are in Death Watch's hands, and I _will not_ let that stand."

"Not one of us is willing to leave them there," Waxer said, words sleep-rough, apparently roused by the sound of their voices. Wooley made a sound of agreement, also still drowsy, on Boil's other side.

Permission officially granted, Helix didn't hesitate, assembling what he needed with a speed and lack of hesitation that suggested he'd gone through and made a thorough inventory of everything in the small infirmary while they'd slept.

General Kenobi watched him, then asked, "How's _buir_ handling it?"

"Not well," Helix answered as he hung the new bag. "He's been fussing over all of us, every spare moment he's got, and I don't think he's slept since the attack. _Ori'vod_ is no better."

Cody winced. "Jango might listen if we try to tell him to sleep. _Buir_ won't."

Helix considered the point. "He might if we tell him we can't sleep without him there," he said.

Wooley and Waxer exchanged looks and grinned. Cody snorted. "And if that doesn't work?"

"The General can try that trick he used to get Longshot to sleep before his surgery," Waxer suggested. " _Buir_ is stubborn, but he'll listen to reason, and he needs to sleep."

"We'll let him have another few hours," Boil put in, shifting his weight gingerly, with a care for his injured shoulder. "The General can fix himself up a little more, and then you can shove me at him."

That made Cody huff, amused. All of his _Vod'e_ were expert emotional manipulators, though they generally only bothered to do it when it came to making the people they cared about take care of themselves. Which was really rather ironic considering that they were just as terrible at self care as their marks. It was paradoxical, but it seemed to work. "Alright," he agreed. "Until then, we'll hold here, and wait for news."

All of them fell silent again, and Cody watched in fond amusement as Waxer wrapped himself bodily around his _riduur_ , settling in to keep watch alongside Helix.

Wooley slipped off long enough to use the 'fresher, then came back, smelling like soap, his face and hair damp. "Kind of nice not to have to shave," he muttered as he climbed back into his previous spot, and closed his eyes.

Cody could tell he wasn't sleeping, though. Merely letting himself trust in Helix to keep an eye on who was and wasn't allowed into the room.

He watched his General's eyes go distant and flutter shut as he started doing whatever Force healing tricks he felt were necessary, then decided to follow suit.

His internal clock suggested about an hour had passed when General Kenobi stirred and stretched, making Cody reopen his eyes.

A glance around the room revealed that Jango had joined them and apparently promptly fallen asleep in the uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room. Their _buir_ was standing just outside, talking quietly with Helix and someone else Cody couldn't identify by the sound of their voice alone.

Probably one of the _verd'e_ assigned to stand guard on the corridor.

"-- all worried about you, _buir_ ", Helix was saying earnestly. "You need to rest, too."

The statement got a chuckle out of the _Mand'alor_. "Soon, _ad'ika_. Soon. How is Ben?"

"Ben is awake and can answer for himself," Kenobi spoke up, making Jango straighten with a quiet sound of surprise that suggested he hadn't meant to fall asleep.

Their _buir_ stepped into the room and eyed the General critically. "You do look a lot better," he agreed. "Helix? Is he really?"

The medic shrugged. "The General's been Force healing his injuries, like he usually does in the field. He's not fully recovered, but probably enough to get back out of that bed."

Jango made a skeptical face. "Force what? You can heal yourself?"

"Not very well," Kenobi answered him, "and not very quickly. But yes. I normally don't bother, unless I'm on a ground campaign; the energy expenditure is quite high."

"Huh. Useful," Jango grunted, then stood and stretched, getting a painful-sounding crack that drew a sound of relief from him. "Oh, that's better. Karking chairs here are just terrible."

Their _buir_ nodded. "It will be a relief when we can all get out of here and back to our beds," he agreed.

"We could do that now," Helix pointed out. "General Kenobi is well enough to be back on his feet, as long as he doesn't overdo anything, and Boil will be more comfortable in a proper bed. All his shoulder requires for now is a fresh bacta patch every so often, though he'll have to do some physiotherapy after it's healed enough."

"Then let's get out of here," Cody suggested.

"Thank the Force," Boil muttered. "I think I might've lost it if I had to try to sleep here overnight."

It took a lot out of him not to laugh, when Boil turned huge eyes on the _Mand'alor_ and asked, "Will you stay with us, _buir_?"

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Watching the _Mand'alor_ immediately fold in the face of Boil's pleading expression was kind of hilarious, but it was worth it to get their _buir_ to rest.

He'd made the point to them, that they couldn't exhaust themselves, and he'd been entirely correct, but now he was making that same mistake himself.

Or might have done, had the _Vod'e_ allowed it.

They weren't particularly subtle, but Ben doubted that was likely to matter.

"Alright," their _buir_ answered, after a couple seconds' thought, watching as all of them but Ben and Boil pulled their armour back on. "I'll leave the interrogations to my men for the time being."

"So, where are we going to sleep, then?" Jango interjected. " _Buir's_ suite still isn't repaired, and after today's attack, mine is half destroyed, and so is yours, _vod'ike_."

"We could use mine," Ben offered, hesitantly, trying to work out whether there would be enough space, "or the one the Jedi Masters were staying in for their visit."

Jango snorted. "The one the _jetiise_ were staying in is bigger, and we'll need the space," he pointed out.

The _Vod'e_ took that as a command, and deftly got them all moving. Judging by their _buir_ 's bemused expression, he wasn't sure whether to be impressed by that or not.

Ben, who had ended up in the middle of the pack, next to Boil and their _buir_ , just let his men do what they needed to. They were still on edge, and needed the comfort of knowing that he and Boil were well-defended. He and Cody had argued viciously about this habit of theirs in the first weeks of their acquaintance. It had taken a blurted confession of _why_ they did it, for Ben to accept it. Hearing Cody admit that the _Vod'e_ did it for precisely the same reasons he himself did, Ben hadn't been able to put up much of an argument anymore.

Not only would that have made him a hypocrite, but he _understood_ in a way that he'd never expected to.

The fears the _Vod'e_ had that their wounded would be taken from them, never to be seen again, cut deep -- and they paralleled his own nightmares too closely for comfort.

On the heels of that thought, they arrived at the door of the suite and Cody opened it, waiting for the rest of them to pass by him before he followed them into the suite. 

The four uninjured _Vod'e_ didn't hesitate. Two of them started securing the suite, ruthlessly closing off every last point of access they could with what they could find or had on their persons. The other two peeled off and began scavenging bedding. All of the mattresses in the suite got pulled off the beds along with the sheets and blankets.

Jango and their _buir_ said nothing to object, but watched them carefully. Taking notes, Ben thought.

It didn't take the men long to finish with their self-appointed tasks, and then they were stripping their armour back off and giving their _buir_ expectant looks.

Ben, who hadn't put his back on, simply set his armour plates and the armourweave underlayer down on the floor nearby. Boil, whose armour had been carried up by Waxer, was already gingerly settling himself on one of the mattresses.

Jango and their _buir_ exchanged a slightly rueful look.

"That was efficient," Jango commented, watching the remaining four _Vod'e_ gather next to Ben and start stripping off their armour, so that they could join Boil.

"You're still dressed, _ori'vod_ ," Cody pointed out. "It's slowing you down."

Boil simply gave them another pleading look as Waxer settled next to him.

"I'm not sure Boil will be able to sleep if you leave," Helix said, and Ben had to admire how smooth that was.

Their _buir_ shook his head once, something like amusement in his eyes. "I'm sure," he said, under his breath, and Ben knew he was wise to their schemes but playing along.

Boil's eyes got even wider, somehow, and Ben bit at his lip. That expression was starting to make _him_ want to ease whatever was wrong.

Cody caught his eyes, and gave him a questioning look.

 _Why aren't you in bed?_ Ben translated.

He felt much better, and had spent most of the day resting, so bed was the last thing on his mind, but he knew better than to say that out loud. Not after he'd actually gotten seriously injured. He'd Force healed most of the damage, but, he'd need to be at the top of his form for whatever was coming. He just had a feeling...

Letting Cody have this win, Ben carefully sprawled out on the mattress at Waxer's back. Cody was immediately there, wrapping strong arms around him with a sense of profound relief resonating through him.

"I'm still here, Cody," he said lowly, realising that his Commander was still rather more worried and anxious than he'd expected Cody would be. "It'd take far more than a pair of detonators to take me from you."

"They nearly got you," Cody replied, his grip on Ben tightening unconsciously and his voice shaking, his reactions to the fight and its aftermath finally catching up to him.

Jango was there a moment later, sitting on the mattress next to Cody, and a warm hand on his shoulder. "Almost," he said solemnly, "only counts in rocket darts and plasma grenades."

Cody choked on a slightly hysterical laugh. "One day, they'll succeed," he said, voice containing a world of certainty. "The odds are in their favour."

The strong mix of anguish and horror that swept through his Commander had Ben wincing, wondering what had caused it. Whatever that was, it was more than just a reaction to his injury, Ben was sure.

Running his fingers through Cody's close-cropped hair, Ben idly noted that it needed a trim, and kept silent for a moment, even as he offered what physical comfort he could. Cody was, objectively, entirely correct. 

"There are ways around that," he offered carefully, "seen from a certain point of view."

"What do you mean?" Cody asked, taking the bait.

Sensing that Ben was about to tell them something potentially very important, the other _Vod'e_ gathered around them on the mattresses, making sure they were in a comforting tangled knot of arms and legs, as usual. Their _buir_ surveyed the scene before shaking his head once and starting to strip off his armour at last.

Using the moment to gather his thoughts, Ben let his hands wander over Cody's shoulders and neck soothingly as their _buir_ settled beside Jango. " _There is no death,_ " Ben quoted, " _only the Force._ "

Cody snorted. "Sure. That's what your Code says."

"What's that have to do with anything?" Waxer asked him.

"Patience, _Vod_ , is an important skill to have," Ben replied, teasing. "Not all Jedi can do it. It takes a certain strength of will and more raw power than most have, but there have been many tales told of Masters past that remained among us even after their deaths."

"What the kriff?" Jango muttered. "You're making that up, Ben. Ghosts aren't real."

"What he said doesn't necessarily mean a ghost, _ad_ ," their _buir_ pointed out uneasily.

"No," Ben replied, enjoying the conversation immensely. "What I'm referring to is neither of those things. If you want to be really precise about it, it's simply a concentration of the Force. It takes a great deal of focus, and a gift in the ways of meditation. But it is possible to die, to pass into the Force, becoming a part of it, yet maintaining enough of your identity, your core self, to influence events and speak to others."

"And you think you could do that, General?" Waxer asked him, sounding dubious.

"I would certainly try," Ben answered honestly. "I can't say whether it would work, but there is nothing in this galaxy that would make me willingly leave your sides."

Drawing a breath that hitched several times, Cody shook his head. "Cold comfort, that," he said, his tone still distraught. "We need you alive and here with us."

Ben could feel their _buir_ choke back whatever he wanted to say, and took the opportunity to put his hands on Cody's jaw, tilting his head back up until their eyes met. "I have no intention of letting that change anytime soon," he replied. "I know you all seem to think I have some kind of death wish, but that is most assuredly not the case. And yet, I owe all of you my life so many times over that I couldn't repay that debt in three lifetimes. But that doesn't mean I will not try."

A silence fell on the heels of those words that felt brittle and strained.

He couldn't and wouldn't promise Cody that he'd always be there.

They both knew it, too. Ben knew Cody was all too kriffing well aware of the realities of the situation.

And neither of them could change those realities, either. Even if they did manage to avert the Clone Wars, Jedi were at risk just about everywhere they went. Including on Coruscant.

Death came for them all, at some point, and the only thing in question was when the Force would welcome him back into its arms.

The _Vod'e_ , conditioned as they were to fear that their close friends and companions would leave them, marching far away, were far less sanguine about it.

"Don't make me add you to my Remembrances," Cody said instead. "That list is too kriffing long already."

The statement got a pained sound out of their _buir_ , but no one commented on it directly.

After another few long seconds, Wooley made an irritated sound in the back of his throat. "These are kriffing depressing thoughts to end the day on," he said. "Tell us a story about General Skywalker."

Ben thought about that for a moment, then chuckled. "How about the one where he decided he wanted to race me to the ground floor from the penthouse of a Coruscant highrise?"

Waxer gave him an incredulous look. "Something tells me this went horribly wrong somehow."

"I'm pretty sure you're right," their _buir_ agreed, giving Ben a sidelong look.

"Well," Wooley demanded, "tell us the story, then."

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Jaster shoved a pillow under his head and shifted so he could see Ben slightly better. Ben and his _vod’e_ had mentioned ‘General Skywalker’ before, generally in the context of shenanigans and explosions, so he was mighty curious about this particular story time.

The boys were all sprawled and comfortable, though Jaster could still see lines of tension running through each of them, and pain in Boil as well. The talk of Ben dying had been heavy, and there was a deep sense of resignation among all of them; it reminded him of men who’d been out fighting for far too long. 

So while Jaster couldn’t quite get himself as comfortable as the rest of the _vod’e_ spread out on the mattresses, he did try. If only for their sakes. His back would probably complain in the morning. It would be worth it to get his _ad’e_ to relax.

From the mischievous smirk on Ben’s face, Jaster was suddenly very sure that it was a good thing that he was sitting -- or, well, _lying_ \-- down for this story. 

“Ahh, that was fun,” Ben said, settling back into the mattress. He let his gaze wander up to the ceiling, but kept his arms wrapped around Cody. The rest of the _vod’e_ shifted to watch him spin his tale. Jango and Jaster exchanged raised eyebrows, but they settled in as well.

“This was back when Anakin was a padawan,” Ben started. “Now, I know you all wouldn’t be familiar with the training that they give the younglings in the crèche, but there is a great deal of effort put into teaching every little one to trust the Force. It is there to guide us, strengthen us, and catch us when we fall.”

At the word ‘fall’, Helix started to look a little dismayed. Jaster was right there with him.

“Anakin was a slave,” Ben said. His voice took on a softer, more somber tone. “My master and I didn’t find him until he was nine. That is… so very late for a youngling to be trained in the Force.” He visibly shoved away any negative thoughts connected to that, and went back to smirking. “So during Anakin’s padawanship, I had to be… creative, shall we say, in teaching him what those raised in the crèches grow up knowing.”

“Well, that doesn’t bode well,” Cody muttered.

Ben’s smirk spread into a grin that promised havoc. “So by the time Anakin was a late teen, not quite of legal age, he was already well versed in using the Force to assist him physically. He was, _is_ , so talented. His raw abilities are truly beyond compare. But he had a difficult time trusting. Understandably so.”

He ran his fingers through Cody’s short hair absently. The tension in the room slowly ratcheted down with every word. Jaster couldn’t tell if Ben was doing something with the Force to make that happen, or if it was just the spell of the story, but he found himself relaxing along with it.

“There is a restaurant that Master Qui-Gon used to take me to, Dex’s. A great place to eat. Cheap, greasy, and the best food on the planet. Dex is a damn character, too, and knows more gossip than any five spies…”

Jaster’s ears perked up. Qui-Gon? Was he Ben’s master? If so, that would explain a few things. Such as the fact that Ben's _vod’e_ all seemed to want to light the man on fire. 

“I happen to like going to Dex’s,” Ben said with some obviously feigned offence. “But by the time Anakin had spent a few years with me, he was thoroughly done with it. He wanted to go to bars. _Clubs_.” He rolled his eyes. “As if there would be anything interesting going on there, especially with me in tow. He should have found one of the Shadows to take him. Or just gone out drinking instead of hitting up one of the illegal podraces that he still thinks I don’t know about.”

There were stifled snickers among the _vod’e_. 

“He really thinks he's subtle, doesn’t he?” Wooley asked.

“Force knows why.” Ben shook his head. “Anyways. It was late. We’d just gotten back from a diplomatic mission. I wanted to head to Dex’s rather than face the Temple dining hall. Anakin, my ever energetic padawan, wanted to go ‘out’.” The sarcastic emphasis on the last word showed just how much Ben wasn’t interested in that option.

“So I offered him a wager,” Ben said. His wide self-satisfied grin had returned.

“Oh no,” Boil said.

“Oh _yes_ ,” Ben replied. “A race to the base of the highrise. We’d had a penthouse. Our main quarters were in the Temple, but the atmosphere there sometimes chafed at Anakin, so I’d requested alternate accommodations for a while, to see if it would help.”

For a moment Jaster was mildly amazed and a bit incredulous. Ben had managed to wrangle a penthouse suite _on Coruscant_ for himself and his padawan, just to make his student feel more comfortable?

“The rules of the bet were thus: whoever reached the bottom of the highrise first got to choose where we went to eat. I won, we'd go to Dex’s. He won, we'd go to a club.”

The smile on Ben’s face very closely resembled that of a deadly predator. He was practically giggling with amusement at the memory.

“Alright, so what happened?” Cody finally asked, breaking the pause in the story.

“I jumped out the window,” Ben said happily.

“You karking _what?!_ ” Cody grabbed Ben’s shirt, as if to stop him from falling in place right there.

Ben giggled. “I jumped out the window. Took a straight swan dive down. I could actually _feel_ Anakin lose his mind.”

“ _Are you kriffing insane?!_ ” Cody was sitting upright now nearly speechless with horror, and it looked like the rest of the _vod’e_ were no better off.

Jaster couldn’t even pick his jaw up off the ground. What the _kriff_.

But Ben was still cackling like a lunatic. “So there I am, dropping through traffic. I knew that it would take Anakin a couple of minutes to catch up to me, so I bounced off a few speeders on my way down, just to slow the descent…”

Bounced. He _bounced_ off a few speeders.

Nope. All _jetiise_ were absolutely insane. 

“...And up comes Anakin in our speeder. How the sith-hells he drove fast enough to catch me, I’m not even sure. The man is a maniac--”

“You cannot even talk about that, _sir_ ,” Helix hissed.

“--And he’s diving next to me, keeping the speeder just below and ahead of me as I fall,” Ben continued blithely. 

Cody dropped back down on the mattress with an outraged sweep of his hands, as if he physically could not contain his exasperation. 

“So there is Anakin trying to yell at me.” Ben stifled a snicker with one hand over his mouth. “‘Get in the speeder, you dumbass!’ Which was entirely uncalled for. He should have known better than to let stressful situations guide his speech. There were extenuating circumstances, of course, but really, he needed more practice.” He shook his head, getting himself back on track. “Anyways, I tried to explain that I was _fine_ , I had the situation totally under control.”

“Falling from a highrise. Through traffic. On Coruscant,” Jaster asked flatly. Just to get the facts straight.

Ben nodded easily, totally missing Jaster’s tone. 

“He managed to get the speeder right under me, and then braked so I hit the seats. Excellent bit of piloting, but then Anakin has always been gifted.” Ben shrugged. “Poor Anakin was about losing his mind at that point. I told him it was fine, that I would have _definitely_ won, and he claimed that was ridiculous because I would have been dead at the bottom, but really, how little faith can one have in one’s master, I swear.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

“I never thought that Skywalker would be the one with sense out of the two of you,” Helix said with a tone that bordered on shock.

“This is where he gets it from. I have to tell Rex,” Cody said, just as numb.

“So then, of course, Anakin lost his temper.” Ben sighed, and the rest of them tensed up, because _what the kriff, the story wasn’t over_.

“He made that _face_ of his -- you know the one, it was worse when he was a teenager,” Ben rolled his eyes, “and he says, ‘I would have won, because if I hadn’t had to save your ass, Master, I would have done _this_.’ And he puts the speeder into a straight dive down, right through traffic again.”

Jaster covered his face with his hands. These were his _ad’e_. This is what he’d gotten himself involved with. He was going to go grey before they were legal to drink, he was sure of it.

“Ah, yes, that’s General Skywalker,” Waxer said sarcastically. “He and the 501st are all crazy.”

“Anakin is a terrifying pilot,” Ben said with a petulant frown. “Every time I get into a vehicle with him, it’s even odds if we crash or not. At least if I’m free falling, I can guide myself with the Force. I had to learn how to use the Force to steer starships falling from orbit because of him, it happened so damn often.” He shook his head in disgust.

“General, I think you’ve got these activities mixed up somehow,” Boil muttered. 

Ben ignored him. “So I’m yelling at Anakin to have some karking caution and _look_ where he's flying --” The irony burned. “-- and Anakin is laughing like he’s lost his damn mind. I can’t even count how many speeders and convoys we just barely missed. I swear, he gets a thrill out of it.”

“He is not the only one, _jetii_ ,” Cody growled. 

“Finally, Anakin pulls to a stop. We’d hit the lower levels, but not the base, not yet. That was about the time he’d realized that he lost the bet. We were both in the speeder, so he hadn’t beaten me.” Ben shook his head sadly. 

“What the _kriff_ ,” Jango said quietly. Jaster couldn’t decide if it was horrified or awed.

“Anakin looks at me sideways, and I knew it was because he wasn’t sure if he’d managed to learn the lesson I was trying to teach, or even if he’d figured out which lesson it was. So I explained. The Force guides us, it protects us. Trusting in it is difficult, but the things that can be accomplished while connected to the Force are astonishing. One need only try.”

Cody muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “death wish,” but no one commented. 

Ben stared up at the ceiling and with a soft smile on his face. “I knew he’d understood the lesson when he looked at me and said, ‘Catch me if you can, Master.’ Then he vaulted over the side of the speeder and free fell the rest of the way to the bottom.”

“How are you both not dead?!” Helix stared at him with slack jawed shock.

“Since Anakin ended up winning the bet, we had to go to a club after that. I’m not sure how I did survive all the propositioning and attempted drug deals.” Ben was back to shaking his head sadly and staring off into the distance. “I knew that some beings had a fetish for Jedi robes, but I had no personal experience with such folk until that night. I was far more careful about our potential choices for eating out after that.”

Cody shoved his face into the mattress and groaned. 

Ben raised his eyebrow and shrugged. “It was definitely a learning experience for Anakin, though, I’ll say that.”

Waxer and Boil both sputtered, and Jango slapped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from doing the same.

“The hangover afterwards was… impressive. Even with Force healing,” Ben mused. 

“Wait. Wait, you both got drunk while you were out? I thought you said he wasn't of legal age to drink yet?” Helix asked with narrowed eyes.

“He’s got to learn sometime, and it’s not like the club was checking our ID’s. Especially not with us carrying lightsabres.” Ben shrugged. “A safer experience than how I learned, to be sure.”

“Nope, not tonight,” Cody said, shaking his head. He’d finally looked up from the mattress to glare at Ben. “I want to hear that story, but not tonight.”

Ben’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Very well. Was the race story distracting enough? It always makes me smile.” And he was smiling. Fondly, even. “It’s a good memory. Of simpler times.”

“When all you had to worry about was base jumping on Coruscant,” Helix said sarcastically.

“Well. Mostly.” Ben shrugged, but from his smirk he’d caught the facetiousness. 

Then Ben settled back down into the blankets and wrapped his arms around Cody, clearly readying himself to sleep. 

“That was very nice,” he said quietly. “I miss those times.”

Jaster didn’t even know what to say to that. Apparently, no one else did either. The quiet that settled over the group wasn’t any more relaxed than it was earlier, but at the very least it was significantly less grim. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben's story about Anakin inspired by this scene we found in an utterly amazing redub of Episode II: [LINK to Youtube](https://youtu.be/gI8aSJBC9u0?t=94). Q and I would also like to very much recommend watching the redub of [Episode I](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSCm8yAxBr8) for a bit more hilarity. It gets recapped in the first 45 seconds or so of the Episode II redub, but omg watching the full 14 minutes is totally worth it. These two redubs made us both cackle madly for ~~days~~ months.


	17. Chapter 17

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Jaster had managed to steal a few hours sleep before the alarm on his comm woke him up again. He’d put it on silent in a vain attempt to keep from disturbing anyone else. Boil and Helix woke up anyways, and Wooley was already awake and on guard duty, from the looks of it.

He mimed that they should be quiet and go back to sleep. One glance at how Cody, Ben, and Waxer were still dead to the world was enough to keep the other _vod’e_ from moving.

A quick nudge got Jango up and moving, and soon the two of them were out of the suite and headed back towards the council room. There would be caff already there, and Jaster was sure that he could con one of his _verd’e_ into getting them something portable to eat.

“Why do you think those _shabuir'e_ took them, _buir_?” Jango asked quietly as they walked.

“Leverage,” Jaster said grimly. Any _mando’ad_ would do much for their _ad’e_ , and everyone damn well knew it.

The information they gathered in the next couple of days only supported that theory.

Of the handful of prisoners that they’d managed to capture during the attack the previous day, only three were conscious. The rest had critical injuries. Jaster honestly wasn’t sure that he cared, except for the possibility that one of them might know something about where his _ad’e_ were taken. 

The three that were awake and aware enough to talk were just as much of a pain the _shebs_ as Jaster had expected them to be. 

They talked. Oh, did they talk. At length. 

All of it was Death Watch propaganda drivel. Jaster wanted to shoot them or himself just to make it stop. 

For hours all anyone could get out of them was how Tor Vizsla would be the great unifier, _Te Sol’yc Mand’alor_ reborn. Tor Vizsla was a real warrior. Tor Vizsla had the Darksabre. Tor Vizsla knew how to conquer. Tor Vizsla would remake the Mandalorian Empire. 

It drove Jaster to utter distraction.

Especially since none of what they were ranting about was particularly useful. They’d been stationed in Sundari for months now, waiting for the right time. Some had posed as palace servants, some had simply hidden in the capital and waited. 

None of them had any relevant knowledge of the recent whereabouts of Tor Vizsla, or even the Death Watch forces as a whole. Assuming there _was_ a single gathering point of Death Watch forces. So far, Ben and Cody had been right. Death Watch was acting more like a scattered insurgent group than an actual kriffing group of _verd’e_.

None of them had any idea why Crys and Longshot had been taken, either.

Clan Vizsla, what few of them would even talk to the _Mand'alor_ or the New Mandalorians, claimed to have no connection to Tor Vizsla. Pre Vizsla was the current Clan Chieftain and ostensibly the governor of Concordia. Many of the old warrior clans had been exiled to Concordia by the New Mandalorians and the Republic after the Mandalorian-Jedi War. There had been talk recently of making it an official province, with Pre Vizsla in charge, but permanent action hadn’t yet been taken on that.

Given that Montross had let them know that Death Watch had encampments on Concordia, Jaster was inclined to believe that Pre Vizsla knew about it. The man was just as unpleasant as his _buir_ , Tor, though he at least pretended to play nice and abide by Jaster's decisions. 

So Pre Vizsla had maintained that they would be on the lookout for the _dar’manda_ that had stooped to killing unarmed civilians and kidnapping children, all while very subtly insulting Jaster for being unable to defend his _ad’e_. 

Since they currently had no proof of Clan Vizsla’s support of Death Watch, and none of the prisoners were willing or able to corroborate that, there wasn’t much Jaster could do about it. He had taken the opportunity to send _verd’e_ to go question them and look around Clan Vizsla’s holdings. It would be a shock and a half if they actually found something. Pre Vizsla was smarter than that.

As much as it rankled, Concordia was a big moon and the mines delved far and deep. There were a lot of nooks and crannies for Death Watch to fall into, only to pop out at the worst possible time. 

That was when the message came in. An anonymous package. Inside it was a piece of flimsi.

And fingers. 

There were two child-sized fingers in that tiny box. 

_Don’t worry, Mereel. We’re saving the best parts for last,_ was written on the flimsi. The three pronged claw mark signet of the Death Watch was stamped under the words. 

Jaster had wanted to vomit, and then scream. Maybe both. His poor _ad’e_. His brave, reckless, lovable, kind, fierce _ad’e_.

It had taken almost no time for Ben to hunt him down after that. Jaster was sure that not a hint of a rumor had gotten out about this ‘gift’, so maybe it was some Force _osik_ that had alerted Ben to the problem.

As much as Jaster hadn’t wanted to further traumatize his other _ad’e_ , he reminded himself that Ben and his _vod’e_ were mentally adults. They’d been at war and had likely seen far worse than this already. Not only that, but Ben and Cody were spectacular strategic thinkers. They couldn’t make plans if they didn’t know all the information. 

Besides, there wasn’t a kriffing chance in hell that he would be able to stop them from finding out about this little monstrosity. Better to just be upfront with them about it than force them to go behind his back. 

Ben and his _vod’e_ had taken one look in the box and had all gone pale and a little green.

Then Cody narrowed his eyes.

He reached into the box and picked up one of the fingers, looking closely at it. Helix leaned in to join him in the inspection.

“It’s not them,” Cody said with certainty. “These didn't come from our _Vod’e_.”

Before Jaster could even ask, Helix said, “We’re clones, _buir_. We’re all nearly the same age, so we're physically as good as identical. These are children’s fingers, but they aren’t Crys' or Longshot’s. The skin color is wrong, and these fingers don’t have the right calluses. They're different sizes, too. Test the blood and you’ll see.”

Jaster let out a slow breath. The tight ball of fear inspired nausea in his stomach eased, though his anger and disgust remained. 

The blood test was a good idea. He trusted his _ad’e_ , but he’d get the test done anyways. That way he could have that information ready for his council. 

“Any information on where this came from?” Cody asked.

Jango shook his head. “Dropped off to a general mail center by a droid. We’re looking for it now.”

It didn’t take long for Jaster’s _verd’e_ to find the droid. Luckily, they’d scanned it for explosives before trying to slice anything on it. There had been a bomb rigged to the memory access. Once it was disabled, they found that the droid’s memory had been wiped anyways, adding insult to injury. 

The blood tests had come back soon after that, revealing that the fingers matched the files of a couple of _ad'e_ reported missing months ago.

Death Watch was stealing their _ad’e_. 

_Death Watch was stealing their **ad’e**._

Who knew how long they’d been at it. Jaster had the judiciary forces for every planet in the Mandalore Sector put on alert, and suggested new emphasis and scrutiny put on missing children cases. He wasn’t optimistic about the prospect of getting immediate results from it. 

He’d contacted Captain Sina personally about the matter. Death Watch had been far, far too active in Sundari. Jaster was more than a little concerned that they were recruiting while they were infiltrating. Though Sina had spent more time working with the New Mandalorians who ran most of the city bureaucracy, she and Jaster had a good rapport. They had friends in common, and one of Jaster’s Headhunters had come from her City Guard.

Sina had been more than willing to put a few additional investigators on local missing children cases, much to Jaster’s relief. 

In an act of desperation, his council had requested that Ben question the conscious Death Watch prisoners, as Jinn had questioned Montross. Jaster doubted they'd get anything useful out of the _hut'uun'e_ , but they didn't have much choice. There weren't any other leads to follow up.

When Jaster had relayed the request, Ben had looked like he’d swallowed a citrus-sour. 

“It might not work, _buir_ ,” he’d said quietly. The loss of his _vod’e_ was a tangible weight on him and the others. Ben was pale and drawn and the circles under his eyes were so dark that he almost looked like he’d been punched in the face. By now, Jaster knew him well enough to see the stiff way he held himself, too. Aside from that, he was the picture of calm; like a general in battle.

The rest of the _vod’e_ looked almost as bad. They were twitchy and somehow even more hypervigilant than normal. Cody had plowed his way into security meetings and had put Jaster’s _verd’e_ through the wringer coming up with improvements and plugging holes. There had been a bit of backlash from the warriors initially, but the vast majority of them had kept their objections to being ordered around by a kid to mere grumbles. Soon enough it had ceased to matter, because they saw the usefulness of Cody’s ‘suggestions’. 

Jaster had even gotten a few sympathetic looks from them after.

The _vod’e_ still followed Ben around like the squad of guards that they were, automatically compensating for two missing members. So it was no surprise that they all readied themselves to stand before the council with Ben.

“Can you try?” Jaster had pressed, knowing it was a lot to ask of the little master _jetii_. 

Ben had nodded in acquiescence, but it had looked reluctant to Jaster’s eyes.

And so here they were. Before the prisoners arrived in the council room, Ben stood before them all and explained what might happen. It was a courtesy that would have been pleasant from Jinn and went a long way towards soothing tempers.

“What are most commonly known as ‘Jedi Mind Tricks’ are nothing more than suggestions,” Ben told them. He stood sharply at attention, with his hands folded in front of him. His armor had been polished until it shone despite the signs of recent damage. It was weirdly soothing to see him wearing it. The armor marked him as _mando’ad_. He was one of them. 

“For a Jedi, willpower is everything. The Mind Trick only works on those who have a weak will. I’m essentially using the Force to urge them to say or do something they might not otherwise want to. It is a… limited technique, and one I do not enjoy using much.”

“It’s mind control,” Chieftain Adonai said with some disgust.

“Of a sort. Jedi only suggest. We do not control. To truly take someone’s will away from them is a violation and practiced only by those who use the Dark side of the Force. It is evil,” Ben said simply. 

“That’s a fine line to walk,” Chieftain Razi said with a frown.

“It is.” Ben nodded gravely at him. “Every Jedi must weigh their choices. It is our duty and responsibility to use our abilities wisely. To work towards the greater good, save lives, and bring peace. We are taught to never use our powers frivolously, any of them. This one included.”

That put Jinn’s actions into a new light. So the _jetii_ really _hadn’t_ taken away Montross’ will when he’d been questioned. While that made him feel better about Jinn in particular, this whole conversation made him feel worse about _jetiise_ in general. From the way Ben talked, all of the _jetiise_ could do this ‘suggesting’ and it was only their personal morals that kept them from doing something worse.

Then Ben nodded towards Jaster. “It is because I wish to save lives that I agree to this. Normally, I would not. But the circumstances are dire, and all other methods of information extraction have proven fruitless. Please keep in mind that there is no guarantee that it will even work. If these members of Death Watch are as devoted to their cause as I suspect them to be, the suggestion will not take hold and they will continue to tell us nothing.”

“But you could force it,” another chieftain insisted.

The look Ben leveled on him could have peeled paint.

“Yes, I could rape them. But I won’t.” His sneer was cold and dangerous. The chieftain in question shifted uncomfortably in his chair and leaned back under the intensity of that look. 

“Alright, _ad_ ,” Jaster said soothingly, bringing Ben’s attention back to him and easing some of the tension in the room. “We won’t ask you to do anything against your better judgement.”

Some of the tightness in Ben’s shoulders eased and he half bowed. “Thank you, _buir_.”

The prisoners were brought in and the questioning went about as well as Ben had predicted. None of the Death Watch were willing to spill anything new.

So Jaster was left back at square one. 

His _verd’e_ were out looking for answers. Ben and Cody were terrifying the home guard into the highest level of security that they’d ever run at. Word was spreading like wildfire of the Death Watch’s return, and True Mandalorians and New Mandalorians alike were all waiting for the next attack.

The quiet couldn’t hold, and Jaster damn well knew it.

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

During their trip in hyperspace, Yan, Qui-Gon, and Mace had given their report to the High Council, detailing all that they knew. Yan hadn't been privy to the deliberations that had followed, but after the council session had ended Mace had assured him that a group of knights would be ready to dispatch immediately upon reaching Coruscant. 

It was absolutely no surprise that the moment Yan had stepped off the ship, he and Qui-Gon were escorted to a different part of the hangar where another ship was ready and waiting to take off. 

A group of knights waited there along with Master Plo Koon, Padawan Xanatos, Sifo-Dyas, and surprisingly, a little boy.

_Obi-Wan Kenobi_. He had one small hand wrapped around Sy’s littlest finger, and was watching the hangar with awe. 

“Master Dooku,” Sifo-Dyas said. His half-bow was formal, but his smile was warm. 

Despite how much he wanted to be open about his great joy at seeing Sifo-Dyas again, Yan refrained. To do so would invite inquiry into the depth of their relationship. 

Following the will of the Force was Yan’s highest priority. More than that, he believed in the Jedi Order as an ideal to live up to. Both he and Sy did. _He_ knew that their relationship would never cross the bounds into negative attachment. 

Just as he also knew that others wouldn’t see it that way. Including Master Yoda. Yan cared for his old master a great deal. As he knew that Master Yoda cared for him. That didn’t change the fact that the stubborn old troll had made things exceedingly difficult for him in some regards.

Yan smiled back at Sifo-Dyas and returned the bow, though he mourned the loss of the hug he would have received if they’d been alone. It was not in Yan’s nature to be so expressive, himself, but it was in Sy’s, and Yan secretly enjoyed it a great deal. 

“Master Sifo-Dyas,” Yan greeted him. 

More bows and greetings were exchanged as droids loaded the ship up.

Qui-Gon stepped slightly aside to talk to his padawan, and Yan took the opportunity to step closer to Sy and Master Plo.

“Thank you for being willing to leave immediately,” Sy said, still looking relieved. 

“I was eager to be on my way back in any case,” Yan said with a dismissive wave. “Thank you for expediting it. I was worried that the Council would debate for weeks before reaching a decision.”

Sy sighed and nodded. He knew that they would both miss the chance to spend time together, but the situation on Mandalore was urgent enough to forego it. 

“This,” Sy said, lifting up Obi-Wan so that he was perched on Sy’s hip, “is Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, this is my friend, the one we talked to on the comm?”

“Master Doo,” Obi-Wan said with a solemn nod.

There was a rough noise from Master Plo’s face mask. Something that suggested a low chuckle that was quickly turned into a cough. 

Yan raised an eyebrow at Sy. “Teaching him nicknames?” He only mildly disapproved. In all the Temple, only Sy had ever called him ‘Doo’. Yan wouldn't have tolerated it from anyone else. 

“I would never,” Sy said with wide innocent eyes.

“It’s a good name,” Obi-Wan said consolingly. He even reached out to pat Yan on the shoulder. “Easy to say.”

Yan and Sy exchanged another look, and Master Plo made another one of those muffled coughs. 

“That it is, Initiate Kenobi,” Yan finally admitted. 

Force, but it really was Ben, just aged down. The eyes were the same. After a week of meditating and training with Ben, Yan could feel how similar the two younglings were.

Similar, but not the same. 

Ben kept himself hidden behind shields the likes of which would impress even Master Yoda. His Light was undeniable, but it was tempered, honed, by grief and knowledge and experience. 

Obi-Wan shone bright and unfettered in the Force, as any young child should. His shields were similar to other little ones his age; weak and unrefined. There was also no pall of sorrow over him, no weight of responsibility. 

What had happened to this boy? What _would_ happen to him?

That was a mystery for a later time. He dragged his attention away, and nodded towards Master Plo.

“Thank you for agreeing to join us, Master Plo,” Yan said.

“Master Dooku,” Plo said with a returning nod. “I have not yet made my decision. My presence seems excessive for this mission.”

“And yet your fighter is ready and waiting,” Yan stated, glancing at the ship in question where it was parked, cockpit open and ready. 

“It seemed prudent to prepare for the possibility," Master Plo responded as he folded his clawed hands together and tilted his head. Given the mask covering the lower half of his face, the eye coverings, and his alien morphology, it was difficult to read him. His voice modulator gave every statement a sense of gravitas.

It was an excellent side-effect, and one that no doubt had its uses in diplomatic circumstances. 

“How can I persuade you?” Yan asked. “For I assume that is why you are here, to be persuaded?”

Master Plo inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I wish to know why you feel my presence is necessary.”

“Ah, a question with a simple answer. Because you were asked for by name,” Yan said with a practiced smile.

“What?”

“The _Mand'alor_ ’s adopted children asked after you by name,” Yan said, amused. “They seemed to indicate that they admired you a great deal. Since they have proven to hold the ear of the _Mand'alor_ and are formidable warriors in their own right, I thought your presence would make the Jedi’s mission on Mandalore significantly smoother.”

There wasn’t much outward change in Master Plo’s expression or body language, but his confusion and curiosity were tangible in the Force. After a moment, he shook his head.

“Force. How does a group of Mandalorian children know me? I cannot recall ever meeting such a group.”

“That is the question, isn’t it,” Yan muttered quietly, glancing over to where Qui-Gon and Xanatos were speaking. The young teen wasn’t as tall as Qui-Gon, but few were. Yan himself only barely surpassed his former padawan.

Such a diverse lineage. Qui-Gon was a rebel, and it showed in how he held himself, as was Rael, Yan’s first padawan. Neat enough, as Jedi went, but careless with his appearance in a way that Yan never was. Xanatos took more after Yan in that respect. He kept his long black hair neatly combed and tied, and his robes were of the slightly finer materials that Yan himself prefered as well. 

Though they shared that much in common, Yan wasn’t particularly interested in Qui-Gon’s current padawan. The boy lacked discipline. He had talent, it was true, but he was ever so slightly spoiled and had a superior attitude. Not enough to truly risk censure, but Yan had to wonder if that was deliberate or happenstance. 

Qui-Gon and Yan had a difficult relationship at times, so Yan had kept his distance out of respect. His old padawan would ask for it, if his help was desired or needed. 

Sy and Master Plo both followed his gaze. 

“You’re sure that they should go too?” Sy asked very quietly, keeping the conversation between them. “From the report, he was very sure that he wasn’t the ideal candidate for this mission.”

Yan frowned. “He didn’t seem reluctant to me.”

Sy shrugged. “He’s willing enough. He just commented on how the _Mand’alor_ ’s children didn’t like him for some unknown reason.”

“So the local king’s children dislike Master Jinn at first glance, but they ask for me by name,” Master Plo mused. “Most unusual.”

“The Force hasn’t given me any hints about it,” Sy said with a shake of his head. “You’re better at politics than I am, Master Dooku.”

“And yet you do well on the Council, Master Sifo-Dyas,” Master Plo reminded him. Yan sent Plo a warm look. 

Sifo-Dyas just rolled his eyes at both of them. “You know what I mean. If you think you can pull this off, then I’ll back you. I’m just not sure if it’s wise.”

“Nor am I,” Yan admitted. “But I cannot find it in myself to bar him from this mission, if he is willing to join us. He would be an asset to the team, even if he is correct about the princes' dislike of him and despite the Mandalorians’ general antipathy for Jedi who use Mind Tricks. What I saw of younglings' behaviour during Ben's evaluation showed remarkable amounts of restraint and discipline." He paused, then added, "There is something going on with Ben and his brothers, and my dear padawan is involved somehow.”

“What do you know, Master Dooku?” Master Plo asked, as soft as his mask would allow him to.

“Very little. With observation, we may know more.”

“And is this knowledge worth what it may cost you? Is it necessity that drives this inquiry, or curiosity?” Master Plo didn’t ask as if it was a rebuke, like Master Yoda might have. He made it sound like a simple question.

“As much as I would love to say that it is idle curiosity, I do not think that it is…” Yan finally tore his gaze away from Qui-Gon and turned to look at little Obi-Wan. He thought about this small child turning into a general in a brutal war. A _Jedi_ general. One so accustomed to battle and death that he’d created his own lightsabre Form in an attempt to protect himself and those around him. One who spoke casually of atrocity, and who had experience in all manner of loss. 

Yan could not help but feel like the Jedi Order had failed Ben somehow, and that the youngling was too kind and pure to ever admit it.

Ben held the secrets to their future, and the possibility of preventing the tragedies that his presence implied. If he truly _had_ been sent back in time by the Force, it was for a reason. Something had to be done. Their future must change for the better. 

“I think this may become quite important. To a great many people,” Yan said grimly. 

“Doo,” Sy whispered, and took a half step forward. His broad, warm face was creased with worry.

Yan shook his head minutely. Now wasn’t the time. There were too many people around watching, and the Jedi were too badly needed on Mandalore to tolerate any delay. For if young Obi-Wan’s dreams were correct, then Ben was in grave need of their help.

“Hmmmm.” Master Plo looked back and forth between them. Then he bowed slightly. “I will ready my fighter for take off, and join you on this mission.”

He turned and walked off to make his preparations.

Sy watched him go, and then turned to raise an amused eyebrow. “Try not to get into too much trouble, Doo.”

“I could go ‘nd help,” Obi-Wan said with an eager nod, as if by nodding strongly enough he could make it so. “Extra hands help.” He let go of Sy long enough to hold up his hands to show Yan.

Sy smothered a grin with his free hand, adjusting his hold on Obi-Wan with the other to keep the child firmly in his grip.

It was an adorable offer. One that Yan wasn’t quite sure how to respond to. He didn’t want to condescend to the child, though every reply that came to mind seemed to do just that.

The longer he internally flailed, the harder Sy’s hand pressed against his mouth and the wider his eyes got.

This was ridiculous. Yan would just treat the boy like he treated Ben. That seemed to work out just fine. If how he treated Ben was similar to how he treated foreign military leaders, well, that was incidental.

Yan gave Obi-Wan a respectful nod.

“I thank you for your offer to help, Initiate Kenobi. Perhaps another time. The Jedi High Council has seen fit to grant me many knights and two additional masters to aid me on my mission. They should be sufficient.” 

Obi-Wan looked doubtfully at him, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical look that was all too familiar, though significantly less sardonic than the one Ben sometimes sported. 

“If I run into trouble, I will contact Master Sifo-Dyas,” Yan found himself promising. It was even true. Yan and Sy both tried to keep each other apprised of their status during missions, though it often happened after dangerous situations were long over.

“Okay.” Obi-Wan honestly sounded a little disappointed. “May the Force be with you,” he added very seriously. 

“And with you, Initiate Kenobi.” 

Sy looked like he was about to die from lack of air.

Yan just gave him a look. He didn’t need Sy’s _commentary_ on this little exchange. 

“I packed your things. Most are on the ship already,” Sy said, taking a deep breath and forcing his words not to shake, despite the suppressed laughter sparkling in his voice and eyes. He dug around in his belt pouch for something, and then handed Yan a small cloth-wrapped object. 

Ah. The Force crystal. One of Yan’s most prized possessions, it was a gift from Sy, brought back after his first mission out with his own master, back when they were both padawans. It was kyber, but of a rare type, and particularly powerful in the Force. Eventually, Yan had found something adequate to give him in return. 

Yan normally didn’t take this with him. Not unless he would be gone for many weeks, and was planning on having a stable place to be based out of.

That his friend would hand him the crystal he treasured above almost all else he owned meant Sy knew that they wouldn’t see each other for a long time.

Yan swallowed down his unhappiness at that thought. They were Jedi. This was what life in the Order was like. Their duty was and would always be their priority.

He took the little package, and dared to pause and hold Sy’s hand for a moment. Sy squeezed it and gave Yan a small, pained smile. 

“Thank you,” Yan said quietly.

“Anytime, Doo.” Sy took a breath and stepped back a half pace. His smile brightened. “Force be with you, Master Dooku.”

“And with you, Master Sifo-Dyas.” 

Yan turned and walked towards Qui-Gon and the knights.

\--- POV: Sifo-Dyas ---

Sifo-Dyas shifted Obi-Wan in his arms, getting an easier hold on the boy as they watched the two ships take off and disappear off into orbit.

His heart ached a little, as it always did when he and Doo parted. 

“Are you gonna miss your friend a lot?” Obi-Wan asked. “It feels like you do.”

“Some,” Sifo-Dyas admitted. “As much as I would like to see Doo more often, it is more important to me to know that the people he is going to help are safe.”

Obi-Wan digested this and stared up at the sky.

“It is good for Jedi to cultivate positive relationships with others, Obi-Wan, but we can never let those relationships blind us to our duty. Nor can we allow our care and concern to turn into selfish possessiveness,” he said seriously. “Master Dooku wouldn’t thank me for holding him back from something he felt like he needed to do, just as I would be unhappy if he tried to do the same to me.”

It was a big lesson for a child but one every Jedi had to learn. 

Obi-Wan screwed his face up, clearly trying to puzzle through what Sifo-Dyas had said. 

A good child. Earnest and true. 

It was almost tempting to claim the little one as his own padawan.

Obi-Wan was far too young though. Five standard years old wasn’t nearly mature enough for a padawanship. Nor was Sifo-Dyas equipped or available enough to care for such a little youngling. 

Given how physically and emotionally devastating his own visions often were, Sifo-Dyas knew that he might never be able to devote the energy to having a padawan. It would be too easy to accidentally place the child in the position of being caretaker for him, and that wasn’t something any child deserved. 

Even if Obi-Wan seemed very bright. 

Even if Doo had looked at the little one with the spark of real interest.

“Come on, youngling. Let’s get you back to the crèche,” Sifo-Dyas said as he carried Obi-Wan out of the hangar. “Crèche Master Tinna is going to have my head if I make you miss dinner.”

“Okay.” Obi-Wan sounded nearly as disappointed as he had when Doo had declined the offer for help. 

“I’ll visit you tomorrow,” Sifo-Dyas said. “While you and your crèchemates are playing in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.”

“You will?” Obi-Wan perked right up. “Yay!”

Force, but kids were easy to please. Sifo-Dyas shook his head.

Obi-Wan leaned in and wrapped his arms around Sifo-Dyas’ neck. 

“We should go do that now. Play in the Fountain room,” Obi-Wan whispered conspiratorially. 

Sifo-Dyas laughed. “No. Tomorrow.”

Obi-Wan thought that over. “Hmmm. Tonight?”

“ _Tomorrow_.”

“Right now??” Obi-Wan counter-offered with a wide grin.

Sifo-Dyas laughed even harder. “Obi-Wan, your negotiation tactics need work. Fountain room tomorrow. Dinner now.”

“Awww.”

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

As he and his _Vod'e_ waited for the General and Commander Cody to get back from their latest strategy meeting with Jango and their _buir_ , Waxer found himself thinking back over the last few rotations. 

It had taken him most of the first rotation after their _vod'e_ had been taken just to recover from the strain of first having the General do whatever he needed to, to establish their Force bond, then getting caught up in the next Death Watch attack, then having to worry over his _riduur_ getting injured, and capping off the day by seeing the General have a kriffing seizure because he'd tried to re-open the bond he'd slammed shut during the attack. Kenobi's stories about General Skywalker afterwards hadn't helped matters any.

Force, that had been a horrible series of events.

If he hadn't felt General Kenobi shield the bond fully once before, he'd have lost his ability to think rationally when the General had done it again mid-battle.

Waxer bit at the inside of his lower lip, hard, to stifle the pained sound that tried to escape him, thinking about it. And then, after the battle -- after he'd karking saved them all by smothering a thermal detonator with nothing but the Force -- General Kenobi had wound up unconscious on a bed in the understocked infirmary of the palace.

And all of that would have been a bad enough strain on his fraying nerves, but then things had somehow gotten worse.

Soon afterwards, Waxer had felt the General's shields lower and then the world had gone weird. The room around him had faded out of his awareness, leaving him caught up in a strange whirlwind of light and darkness. He'd looked around, lost and bewildered -- frightened -- and spotted General Kenobi standing nearby, lit lightsabre held aloft and his whole person radiating the strange light driving the whirlwind onward to ever greater heights of turbulence.

Hurrying over to his _jetii_ , Waxer had all but flung himself at Kenobi. _General!_

Or, at least, he'd tried to.

He'd needed to be close to Kenobi, to know his General was fine. To cling to him and never let go. Never to lose him like they had Crys and Longshot -- or, worse, like so many of the _Vod'e_ who'd fallen in battle or on Kamino itself.

The closer he'd gotten to his General, though, the more resistance he'd felt, like the light was trying to physically keep him away just as it was the darkness swirling around them.

The light had fought and fought, a guttering flame flickering in a field of blackness that felt like the cold of deep space, gradually weakening with each new flare it produced, each attempt to pierce the darkness around them. A darkness that had been _wrong_. A darkness that had whispered to the General, had tempted him. That had offered him visions -- Waxer still wasn't sure how he'd known that but he knew it was true --, seducing him with images of just how kriffing easy it would be to just… murder an entire moon's worth of people. 

And then, with a wrench Waxer had felt physically -- a sensation like the sharp pop of a dislocated shoulder getting reduced -- General Kenobi had managed to re-establish his shields.

His own vision -- or whatever it had been -- had vanished in the same moment, leaving Waxer staring down at Kenobi over the Commander's shoulder unsure how he'd gotten there when he'd been sitting by his _riduur_ 's bedside a moment ago. The Commander, who'd been holding him back, keeping him away from Helix and the General.

That was when Waxer had realised the General had been fighting him and his _Vod'e_ , had been _struggling against them_ to get his shields back up, and that the bond connecting them had felt empty again, dead.

That knowledge… when it had registered on him just what had happened, he _had_ freaked out a little.

Helix and the Commander'd had to talk him down, and that had been kind of embarrassing.

It was so lucky neither of those two _Vod'e_ had been bonded to General Kenobi right then, for that matter. The lot of them would never have stood a chance, if the General _and_ the Commander had been taken out by the same blow.

Kriff, just the thought made his blood run cold, and Waxer shivered.

Things hadn't gotten a whole lot better over the course of the next couple of rotations, either. The five of them and their General had struggled to keep the knowledge that their missing _Vod'e_ were likely in trouble and there was nothing they could do to help until reinforcements arrived from making them even more unstable.

The thought of the pair of karking _fingers_ that those Death Watch _hut'uun'e_ had sent their _buir_ hard on the heels of General Kenobi's injury only made his mood darker. Those had arrived a rotation ago -- four rotations after the attack that had taken their _vod'e_ from them -- and sent the council, the _verd'e_ , and half the palace into an uproar. Their _buir_ and Jango had spent a good four hours meeting with Ardanna, then Captain Sina, and it hadn't been at all easy to get a hold of either of them long enough to find out what had happened.

Luckily they'd had Helix with them to explain their relief once they'd gotten a good enough look at that karking box's contents.

"You alright, _riduur_?" Boil asked him, worried, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Waxer leaned against him, letting himself take in the warm, solid, reassuring presence of his partner.

"More or less?" He answered, letting Boil recenter him in the now. It was the middle of the fifth rotation after they'd formed the kriffing Force bonds that had them all so off-balance, and they were about to take part in one more meditation training session, led by their General. Which would (hopefully) allow Kenobi to pinpoint where Crys and Longshot were being held. 

"You don't sound very sure," Boil said, his expression a bit pinched.

"That's because I'm not," Waxer replied with a sigh. "It's hard, being bonded to the General but not being able to feel him. I feel you more clearly, and you've still got that kriffing chip in your head."

Boil nodded. "He's gotta stay away for now, though. We can't risk him having another kriffing seizure."

Wooley, who'd been sitting on the window ledge on the far side of the room, staring down at the training yard longingly, as though he wished he was down there doing drills, turned to look at them. "Think the Commander's idea will work?"

"Trying to use our 'emotionless tactician' mindset? Hard to tell without trying it," Helix answered. "Not all of us are any good at it. The Commander's had a lot of practice. Me? I just follow orders."

Wooley snorted in disbelief. "No, you don't, or you wouldn't have been in the first rank that followed General Grievous into that cave."

"But if he hadn't been, we wouldn't have a medic with us, now," Boil pointed out. "I'm glad he was there."

"Well, of kriffing course I was there. _Someone_ has to keep the Commander and the General alive," Helix retorted acidly. "And anyway, that's why we're trying this meditation thing again."

Their General walked into the room, as if on cue, sweeping in like he owned the room, and all of them straightened to attention automatically at the way he was holding himself. "Are all of you ready for one more attempt?" He asked as he walked, looking and sounding like he was in the hangar bay of his flagship and inviting them to join him for a stroll, planetside.

Commander Cody followed him, a half-pace behind General Kenobi and to his right, as usual.

Helix sighed. "We're ready, sir," he answered. "Not all that confident it'll work any better than the last attempt, but we're ready."

"Then let's give this a try. Get comfortable -- yes, Cody, that means you, too -- and clear your minds." Kenobi waited until they were all seated comfortably on the floor at his feet, then joined them, kneeling with his feet tucked under his behind. His voice went soft, soothing and lyrical. It dipped and wove like a starfighter danced through laserfire, graceful and deceptively slow. "Think of a scene that relaxes you, that puts you at ease, and picture it in as much detail as you can muster," the General instructed them, as he had last time.

"Layer by layer. First the way it looks," Kenobi said, then paused for a moment.

Waxer closed his eyes, building up his mental image of his bunk aboard the _Negotiator_ , part of a barracks that housed his platoon -- besides him it was home to another thirty-six _Vod'e_ , two clone sergeants, and Boil. His bunk lacked anything even remotely resembling privacy, but it was his alone and in an area shared with those he trusted completely. Off-duty _Vod'e_ lounged on their bunks, sat at the tiny table in the corner playing sabacc, or just stood around trading gossip.

"Now the sounds," the General suggested. 

Waxer added a low indistinct murmur of familiar voices. The memory was one that felt bittersweet, considering where they found themselves now, but for all his life -- save the last three weeks -- it had been what inspired a feeling of 'home'.

The General's voice went softer, gentler. "Now the smells and tastes."

Blaster oil, armour wax, laundry detergent and shampoo. Dirty socks and mud. His blankets, and his _riduur_.

"Good, and now touch. Let yourself feel it against your skin."

Waxer almost blushed at the way that tugged at the image in his mind, trying to make it go heated rather than relaxing. His memories brought to mind a million different intimate moments between him and his _riduur_ \-- each of them featuring the sort of thing that would have made him consider dragging Boil into a quiet closet somewhere to blow off some steam if he’d been in his adult body.

Now that they had been de-aged and flung back to the bodies they'd had as cadets, it left him feeling a little confused instead. He knew what he wanted, but it just wasn't going to happen. The mind was willing, but the flesh... 

He and Boil had talked about it. They were still committed to each other, even if their bodies weren’t on board with sex just yet. One day they’d either go back to their own time or just grow up, and then they’d have all the time in the world to do that sort of thing. Until then, they could perfectly well content themselves with just cuddling and being close. That was really nice, too, after all, and something they'd never really had the breathing room to enjoy before.

Carefully, reminding himself that there would be time later for that sort of fun, he shoved the sense-memory of Boil's skin against his away again and focused on his blacks. The hard edges of his plastoid armour, and the weight of his blaster in his hands.

"Well done, now hold that image as steady as you can," Kenobi told them. "Let everything else fade out of your awareness. No need to think or worry. Just be. And remember."

A few seconds passed, measured in heartbeats and the quiet breathing of his _Vod'e_ around him. And then, the thick durasteel shields on his bond with the General started thinning.

Gradually, layer by layer, they vanished, letting more and more of Kenobi's presence through, and _Force_ what a relief it was to feel him again. Waxer very nearly lost his grip on the memory he'd built up, then fumbled to regain it, to get his equilibrium back.

_Shhh,_ the General's voice seemed to whisper in his mind, soothing as having Boil tucked against his chest, _I'm sorry I had to lock you out like that, Waxer, but it was the only way forward. You're getting better at control, but it's not quite there yet._

He swallowed hard, the General's calm letting him regain his own.

The shields on their bond thinned a little further, held like that for a while, then built back up again, until he couldn't feel Kenobi anymore.

Involuntary tears pricked at the back of his eyes, and he took a shuddering breath. Turning to Boil and hauling his _riduur_ in close, Waxer tried to keep from losing his composure.

Boil's arms went around him, shoring him up, and Waxer spared a moment to be _incredibly kriffing grateful and relieved_ that his _riduur_ had ended up in the past with him. He didn't know how he'd have coped with losing Boil like that. If he could have at all. 

The General's hand landed in his hair a moment later, "I know, Waxer," he said, "and I hate that I have to do this to you, but I can't open myself up to you until you're fully in control of your anger and pain."

Swiping at his eyes with his ungloved hand after his _riduur_ had dropped a chaste kiss on his temple, he asked, "Did we at least get any useful information out of the attempt?"

Kenobi made a frustrated sound. "I get a little closer each time, the direction a little more precise, but at the moment all I can say is 'off-planet'."

The Commander growled a savage curse under his breath. "It's been a week," he said, frustration of his own thick in his voice, "and we're _no kriffing closer_!"

"It may seem that way to you," General Kenobi chided the Commander gently, "but that's not true. At the beginning, I couldn't even open the bond far enough to determine that much without risking everything on the move. Now, we know they are alive, mostly uninjured, and off-planet."

"Doesn't get us any closer to getting them back," Wooley said, tiredly. "'Off-planet' covers a lot of kriffing territory."

"Master Dooku commed from Coruscant to let us know he would be coming back sooner than planned," Kenobi reminded him. "It would be far wiser to wait for those reinforcements to arrive. They'll be here within the next rotation and having an additional few knights and another Jedi master here will speed up the search substantially. Depending on whom it is the Council has sent with him, perhaps one of the knights could help me shield you while I search for Crys and Longshot."

"Let's hope so," the Commander said with a weary expression in his eyes. "We might be able to try that with Master Dooku, in a pinch, but somehow I don't think anyone else he's bringing would be prepared to handle something like this. Not if we're collectively strong enough to pull you off balance, General."

"And you're not quite ready to trust Master Dooku that fully, either, I expect," Kenobi finished, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "We'll figure something out. Even if I have to come up with an approach I can use to shield Waxer from the rest of you, we'll find a way."

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

For all his confident tone when he'd told his _Vod'e_ they'd find a way to locate Crys and Longshot once the knights arrived with Master Dooku, Ben really wasn't at all sure that they'd manage to do it in a reasonable length of time.

He'd had a good feeling that had led him to dare to make that statement that the arriving Jedi would be able to help, but he couldn't for the life of him work out _why_ the Force seemed to be telling him so. The only knight he'd known previous to their Force mishap and subsequently also met in this time was Eeth Koth, and the version of the Zabrak that he'd known in his own timeline had been far more inclined toward sabrework than shielding.

And now, here he was, once again standing on the large open platform of the spaceport, waiting for a group of visiting Jedi to land. He was flanked by all five of his _Vod'e_ , Jango, and three _verd'e_ he didn't know. 

Apparently -- and Ben wasn't sure why the Jedi would have bothered -- they'd brought two separate ships, one of them a starfighter. Sundari's traffic control team had apparently not been overly sanguine about that, but eventually listened to Ben.

"They're taking their time," Jango muttered, impatient, his voice carrying in irritated tones over their private comms, which only connected the seven of them. The move gave them space to talk over the arrival of the Jedi and potential attendant issues without having to worry about the three _verd'e_ that had come with them spreading gossip they shouldn't be privy to in the first place.

"A Jedi always arrives precisely when they mean to," Ben replied over the same channel with a smirk. "The Force guides us."

He could almost hear his _Vod'e_ roll their eyes.

"There, look," Cody interjected, pointing at something off in the distance, before Jango could come up with a suitable retort.

A pair of ships dropped unerringly through the air, slicing down towards the landing platform easily, and one of the ships sent a shiver of recognition through Ben. 

"Oh kriff," Boil breathed, awe in his voice, "they brought _General Buir!_ "

"Thank the Force," Waxer agreed, "a Jedi with sense!"

"Hey!" Ben protested mildly, a broad smile tugging at his own lips. It would be so good to see Master Plo again.

"General _Buir_?" Jango echoed, sounding a bit baffled. "Who's General _Buir_?"

"It's their nickname for Master Plo Koon," Ben told their _ori'vod_. "Master Plo is quite popular among all of the _Vod'e_ , as you can see. Including mine."

Jango sighed, "You're not making much sense, Ben," he grumbled. "There aren't any more _vod'e_ besides the ones here. Must you always talk in riddles?"

None of them addressed that comment, not wanting to get into a discussion about the future and the GAR and all its attendant moral and ethical issues out in public -- not even over private comms -- as the Jedi came in for a landing. There would be time for that later, and for the moment, getting Crys and Longshot back was rather more urgent than explaining that aspect of their identities again.

Wondering who had persuaded the Kel Dor to take part in this mission -- one master of Dooku's calibre and a group of knights would have been plenty of firepower, after all -- and how they'd done it, Ben watched the ships land gracefully, one after the other. His _Vod'e_ all but squirmed behind him in their impatience and happiness. If they hadn't been assigned to play escort, Ben had no doubt the lot of his men would have swarmed Master Plo to hug him.

"If I were any less secure," Ben told them with a laugh, "I'd worry that you five would just abandon me right here and now so you could follow Master Plo home."

Jango huffed. "You all like him that much, huh?"

"There's a reason we call him _General Buir,_ " Waxer pointed out.

Helix nodded. "He informally adopted most of the _Vod'e_ under his command, and his Commander... Well, Wolffe would trade his life for General Plo's in a heartbeat, if he had to," he indirectly explained Ben's earlier comment. Ben felt Jango file that bit of information carefully away.

Ben turned to Jango, "You see where I rank," he kept up the teasing as he watched the pair of ships touch down.

Master Plo, having come in his fighter, was first to disembark and approach them, with open curiosity in his bearing.

Switching off their private comm line, Ben stepped forward and bowed to the master. "Welcome, Master Koon. It is good to meet you."

He let the implied _again_ ring in the air for his _Vod'e_ to hear, then regretted it when Master Plo turned to him with a look of focused curiosity on his face. Clearly he'd caught it, too.

"Hmm, you must be that initiate Master Dooku told us so much about," Plo answered in his deep sonorous voice, and returned the bow. "Greetings, youngling. I trust you are well?"

"We could all be doing a lot better, Master Plo," Cody answered, getting the master's full attention. "But now that you're here, things will improve."

Ben could tell Plo wanted to pursue that line of conversation _very badly_ , but the arrival of the rest of his contingent on the scene prevented him, forcing him to do introductions instead. "Well, younglings, allow me to introduce the other masters and the knights who have accompanied me here. I myself am here at Master Dooku's request," he paused to offer Dooku a nod, "whom you already know, and I believe you have also already met Master Jinn."

The temperature on the landing pad dropped several degrees. "Yes, we know them," Jango agreed, his words clipped and angry. "I must warn you, Master Jedi, the council and our _buir_ will not be at all pleased to know that Master Jinn has returned."

Ben could feel his _ori'vod_ 's anger in the Force, a flicker like bright flame, and it was echoed by the _Vod'e_ , who had all turned very pointedly in Master Qui-Gon's direction to stare him down through the faceplates of their buckets, their dislike and anger making them buzz quite strongly against Ben's skin.

Taken aback, Plo simply looked back and forth between Master Qui-Gon and the firmly united front Jango and the _Vod'e_ presented.

Master Qui-Gon cleared his throat awkwardly. "I tried to tell you this might happen," he said, uncomfortable.

Wanting to pinch the bridge of his nose, Ben swallowed back a sigh. "Perhaps it would be better to save the remaining introductions for later. I mean no slight against the knights accompanying you, Master Koon, but I think it would be wise to get everyone settled in what quarters we can offer. You have all had a long trip getting here and must wish to refresh yourselves."

"I believe you might be right, Ben," Master Dooku agreed, sounding like he'd been caught off guard, himself, at the intensity of the dislike pouring off Jango and the _Vod'e_.

Had he been the one to decide who came on this mission? Ben considered the point. Master Plo had outright said that Master Dooku had asked him to come. Had he chosen to bring Master Qui-Gon with him, as well? That was not going to endear him to anyone, Ben knew. The council had been less than impressed with Master Qui-Gon for reasons they hadn't been willing to speak to him in detail about. Jango had given him the bare bones of the story later, had told him about how Master Qui-Gon's cavalier use of the mind tricks Ben hadn't wanted to employ at all had left everyone unnerved and on edge. Jango hadn't mentioned _why_ they had been, though. In hindsight, Ben realised, he should've asked.

With a voiceless sigh for how complicated his life was about to become, Ben bowed to the group of knights and masters. "We've brought some speeders for transport, and a selection of older _verd'e_ to drive them, as my younger _vod'e_ and I cannot," he said. "Please arrange yourselves as you see fit."

"Very well," Master Plo agreed, "we thank you for your gracious offer."

"This way, Master Plo," Cody said, relaxing again somewhat as he addressed the Kel Dor, then led the way off the landing platform.

Ben took his usual position a half-step in front of Cody and to his left, and the rest of the _Vod'e_ took up positions around them.

"This is not going to go well," Ben heard someone mutter quietly, and he couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. As happy as he was to see Master Plo, having his old master back planetside was very plainly going to cause far more issues than it solved, and he found he almost wished Master Dooku hadn't brought him along.

Master Qui-Gon was an excellent diplomat and a decent swordsman, but the bias against him among the _mando'ad'e_ was strong.

And, Ben had to admit to himself, after he'd seen for himself the way Master Qui-Gon had behaved during the evaluation he'd come to assist with, he was less pleased to see his old master than he would have been, previously. Less pleased than he had been two weeks ago, certainly.

As they reached the speeders, Cody and the _Vod'e_ deftly and subtly corralled Master Plo into Jango's speeder with Ben, making sure that master Quigon and Master Dooku got nowhere near them. The _Vod'e_ themselves got distributed among the other speeders, mixed in with the knights and chatting with them politely.

Master Plo watched the proceedings, a sense of amusement coming from him. "Those six are your brothers, then?" He asked Ben, his tone idle and speculative.

Ben smiled. "They are, though we are not related by blood."

"Often, the ties we forge ourselves are stronger than those offered us by simple circumstance," Master Plo observed. "They seem very protective of you. How did that come to be? I had thought that Mandalorians generally disliked Jedi intensely."

Ben's smile faded a bit. "Oh, you have no idea just how right you are, Master Koon. They certainly are quite protective. Perhaps overly so. But how that came to be is a tale for another day."

"Hmmm, just so." Plo's head tilted just slightly, and Ben felt a light brush against his shields. "I can sense that it is not an easy one to tell. Master Dooku's report to the Council touched upon parts of it, I expect."

"That's likely the case," Ben agreed, "but I cannot confirm or deny, as I was not present to hear what was said."

Master Plo chuckled. "Well said, youngling. You are just as well-spoken as Master Dooku implied."

That statement seemed to make the crystals in his 'sabre almost smug. As though they were pleased that Ben could win Master Plo's good opinion regardless of what year it was.

Ben carefully and pointedly ignored that bit of commentary.

"In any case, we'll be arriving at the Palace shortly," he pointed out, daring to offer what would normally have been deemed a rather impertinent observation in an initiate. "If you have not yet decided what you would like to say to the _Mand'alor_ , I'd recommend you think quickly, Master Koon."

"I spent some time meditating on the problem aboard my fighter," Plo told him. "I admit, I had not realised that bringing Master Jinn might cause trouble, but I appreciate the warning."

Ben offered him a shrug. "As you said, yourself, Master, the _mando'ad'e_ are generally not at all fond of Jedi, and they have many good reasons not to be."

"Then it is just as well that it is Master Dooku who is liaison, and not me," Master Plo replied, and Ben could hear suppressed amusement in the words. "This might prove entertaining. It has been some time since I've seen him kark up a diplomatic maneuver of any sort."

The comment caught him off guard, and Ben laughed outright. "To be fair to him, I'm pretty sure it was Master Jinn who karked things up."

"Be that as it may," Master Plo said as the palace gates loomed in front of them. "I shall enjoy watching him attempt to smooth this over."

Ben didn't bother replying. By the time he'd found anything like the right words for it, the speeders had all been parked, and the Jedi were alighting.

A squad of _verd'e_ appeared promptly in the main doors of the central building, and marched smartly out into the courtyard, flanking a fully armoured _Mand'alor_ and several council members.

Ben eyed the scuffs and battle damage his _buir_ 's armour all but put on display. That was its own statement, he was sure of it. The _Mand'alor_ looked nearly as battered as his capital city did, right then. It wasn't a terribly subtle statement either, even by Mandalorian standards. And what it said was just as clear: _I have fought to defend my home and aliit,_ and _I am nowhere near defeated, though you may have caught me by surprise._

It wasn't likely that the Death Watch had another mole in their ranks, but if there were any still lingering in the city... 

"I hope you'll forgive the informality," his _buir_ said, his tone making it clear that he didn't give a kriff whether they did or not, "but I'm afraid my palace is in some disarray. We have suffered multiple attacks by the Death Watch in recent weeks, and repairs to the palace have been slow, as other inflicted damages in the city have taken higher priority. Even the receiving rooms of the council chamber are unfit for use at the moment."

Ben watched Master Dooku look hopefully at Plo for a beat, as though hoping that he would take charge, then take a steadying breath and step forward to greet their _buir_ with a bow. "Of course, _Mand'alor_ ," he said, "your situation right now is quite uncomfortable, and we have no wish to complicate things further."

His _buir_ snorted, the sound audible through his bucket and his disbelief clear, but he said nothing about it directly. "That's an understatement," he said flatly, bluntly getting right to the point. "The Death Watch has taken two of my _ad'e_ captive, and getting them back is my first priority."

Master Dooku looked around, counting heads, then stopped short when he worked out just who was missing, and Ben could tell Master Dooku was remembering their discussion in the gardens just before his departure. "I see," he said quietly. "That certainly cannot be allowed to remain so."

"It will not," his _buir_ agreed, "whether you _jetiise_ aid me in retrieving them or not."

"Of course, we will aid you," Master Dooku hastened to say.

Ben could tell he would have added more, but his _buir_ interrupted. "Then why have you made my job harder by bringing back the one _jetii_ my council is upset with more than any other?"

Ben winced. Something had to have happened in the council chamber that day that Jango hadn't told him about. The council must have been putting pressure on his _buir_ as it was, and now, here was Master Qui-Gon, whose very presence would doubtless make the New Mandalorians _very_ uncomfortable. The council members present -- likely the only ones willing to venture anywhere near a contingent of Jedi at the moment -- were all glaring at Master Qui-Gon.

After some of the questions he'd gotten from the council about the 'mind tricks' he could do, Ben suspected his old master had overdone things and given the impression of a _jetii_ willing to do whatever he had to to get the job done, and kriff the consequences.

Which, he had to admit, was closer to the truth than he might have liked to think about. Their misadventures in trying to end the Trade Federation blockade on Naboo sprang to mind.

Master Dooku was far too professional to let his own wince show, but Ben felt it ripple through him in the Force.

"I do not know what my former padawan has done to upset your council so," he said slowly, picking his words carefully, "but I can assure you, both of us would like to rectify that mistake."

Ben heard Master Plo snort, ever so quietly and a trifle disbelievingly.

The _Mand'alor_ accepted that at face value. At least outwardly. "And who are these knights you've brought along?" He demanded, changing the topic abruptly.

Master Dooku relaxed, at that. "It is not just knights that have decided to take part in this endeavour. We also bring with us High Councilor Master Plo Koon," Master Dooku gestured to him, where he stood beside Ben, "and Master Jinn's padawan, Xanatos."

Oh Force.

Images slammed into Ben. Images of death, and violence. Of his past, his present, and a possible future. He saw himself, enslaved, as he had been in his own timeline, and his stomach turned. He saw Crys and Longshot, forced into much the same position, save that they didn't have the same bomb collars he'd been coerced into; no, they wore shock collars instead and Ben's gorge rose. _Oh kriff, no, not that._ He saw his _vod'e_ hungry, weary, and maltreated, restrained then whipped and beaten until they bled and simply left where they were, their tormentors not caring whether they lived or died. Ben's breath caught in his throat and he swallowed hard. He saw himself accused of atrocities committed by another and Plo taking his side against Master Qui-Gon and Xanatos. All of it underscored by Xanatos' laughter and the heat of a fiery hatred. 

Master Plo's clawed hand landed on his shoulder, and Ben wrenched himself loose of the lingering remnants of the vision as best he could, fumbling his bucket off so he could retch into the dusty ground of the courtyard. It only distantly registered that he had fallen to his hands and knees, his whole body trembling. 

"Youngling?" Master Plo's deep concerned voice floated to him from a long ways off.

"Ben?" His _buir_ asked as his _vod'e_ hurried over to cluster protectively around him and Master Plo, "Are you alright, _ad'ika_?"

Fighting to steady his breathing and blinking against the tears in his eyes and the bile that kept trying to rise, Ben simply nodded.

He'd be fine.

Just a vision.

Nothing said it had to come true. _Always in motion, the future is._

"What happened, General?" Helix asked, having fallen to one knee beside him and put an armoured hand on his shoulder.

"I'll tell you later," he answered hoarsely. _Vision,_ he signed, and felt the torrent of worry coming off his men slow. The change relaxed a bit of the tension in his shoulders and let him breathe a little easier. 

"Kriffing Force visions," his medic muttered very quietly, disgust and lingering worry in his voice even as he made sure the comment wouldn't be overheard by anyone but Ben and maybe Plo, then helped him to his feet. Raising his voice, he added, "Commander, I'll see to him."

Cody nodded sharply. "Go, we'll keep an eye on things here."

Ben wanted to groan. If he wasn't here to keep a lid on things, this little meeting would turn into a disaster. "I'm fine," he rasped, well aware that all of the Jedi were paying very close attention to every word, as were his _buir_ and the _verd'e_ , "peace, _Vod'e_. All I need is some water to drink, which I can find once these introductions are done with."

Giving him a reluctant nod, but unable to protest that statement, Helix subsided. "Alright… I'll allow it. Under protest, sir."

Helix knew just how much his Force visions could affect him, after all, and on top of everything else that had been piled on their shoulders these past few days… Ben knew his chief medical officer would have some strong words for him later about stress management.

As the contingent of Jedi knights shifted uncertainly, waiting for an indication of what was expected of them, Master Dooku simply stood firm, projecting calm even as he felt distinctly uncomfortable and worried in the Force.

His _buir_ gave the impression of a man who didn't quite believe Ben's words about being fine but also had no wish to let the visiting Jedi see him show any weakness at all beyond what he'd already revealed. Likely because of the opinions of the council members he would have to wrangle later.

Ben saw Plo give Master Dooku a sidelong look that suggested the Kel Dor would definitely be trying to pry additional information out of the official Jedi liaison, later.

_Evidently, a certain someone_ , Ben thought to himself, _didn't give Master Plo all the relevant tactical information._

A flicker of movement from the Jedi knights drew his attention and Ben couldn't stop himself from looking over, the action a mix of instinct and long training.

Seeing Xanatos again, the source of the movement that had caught his eye, Ben fought to maintain his equilibrium.

This time rather than a Force vision, Ben found himself caught in the grips of an old memory, made all the more powerful by his current physical body. His mind knew it had been years. Decades, even. His body didn't. 

It was unnerving. He knew it wasn't real. Knew it wasn't actually happening. But that was the feel of Xanatos' hand on his cheek and the sound of the bomb collar clicking closed. Ben quickly scrambled to get his bucket back on.

He couldn't seem to control what his expression was doing. Not with Xanatos' remembered voice right in his ear, quiet and nothing but banked fury and sick satisfaction.

Kriff it. After he got his missing two _Vod'e_ back, he might take them on a quiet retreat somewhere. Let them turn it into a bunker and just. Breathe. Until he found his balance again.


	18. Chapter 18

\--- POV: Plo Koon ---

Plo Koon gnashed his jaws as he observed the situation around him. His vision was extremely poor outside of his own natural atmosphere, and the protective lenses that covered his eyes didn’t help. But a Jedi had more than just sight to guide him, and a Kel Dor had even more than that. 

His small, extrasensory tusks twitched under their antitox coverings as he took in the movement all around him. 

The Force had swirled around Ben, lighting him up to the minds of every Jedi present. The sensation was very distinctive. A vision, Plo was sure of it. One that had been so violent that it had made the poor boy sick. Plo had tried to offer what comfort he could, but been quickly herded away by the rest of the strange younglings. 

Not as far away as everyone else was herded, though, he noted. 

How unusual _that_ was, to see a whole group of little warriors light up with trust and love the moment they saw him. The Force had sparkled with it. He could feel it thrumming in the air around them, like a vibration from somewhere deep in the earth. 

He had no idea why these children looked to him with such devotion, but he knew himself well enough to know that he would do all he could to protect them.

Then little Ben had stood up and Plo had gotten a proper sense for his face, previously hidden under his helm. It was disturbingly similar to that of the little crècheling that Master Sifo-Dyas had been holding in his arms at their departure from Coruscant. 

Master Windu and Master Dooku had mentioned in their brief that Ben claimed to be from the future, de-aged and sent far back into the past by the Force, something that had been omitted from Master Dooku’s original report about the incident on Korda VI. The Council as a whole was skeptical. None were willing to say it was so, but they all were equally disinclined to entertain the only other viable option: that eight little younglings had been trained to be masters in the craft of war, and had reached dizzying heights of competence, all before other children had even begun to consider picking a vocation. 

There were too many questions here, and Plo got the distinct feeling that Master Dooku knew far more than he was letting on. 

That was a subject for later, though. For now they needed to smooth over their presence with the local ruling council. Master Dooku had been very clear that while the _Mand'alor_ technically ruled here, his reign was tenuous and the factions were contentious with each other.

Mandalorians in general did not care for Jedi, either. 

Except for Ben, apparently. 

Most curious. 

Since Master Dooku was officially the Jedi’s liaison to Mandalore, Plo let him take the lead for introductions to the council. Convenient, since Plo had no desire to try and explain away Master Jinn’s presence to them. None of the Mandalorians looked pleased to see the human, and the Force tickled with their mixed negative emotions. 

He also took note of how Ben stood with the Jedi, though slightly ahead of them as if he were presenting them, and the rest of his brothers took up guard positions around them. It was clear in the Force that this made the knights want to shift uneasily, but they held themselves still. As they should. Jinn’s padawan was less subtle. Perhaps that could be forgiven. If Ben’s brothers reacted to Plo with buoyant excitement, then when they looked at Master Jinn and Padawan Xanatos, they rumbled with displeasure. 

It was a bizarrely focused feeling. The little ones might not be Jedi, but they’d clearly trained their minds as well as their bodies. The strength of their will was tangible. If they had been Force sensitive, Plo would have been on the watch for Master Jinn and Padawan Xanatos to be promptly Force thrown out of the palace by the strength of the children’s dislike alone.

Beyond that brief vortex of the Force that had swirled around Ben as he'd had his vision, _he_ was utterly unreadable. His shields were better than those of most masters that Plo knew.

Why would a child need such shields? How had he learned them?

Questions upon questions. 

Patience was the key here. Plo would learn what the Force had directed him here to see.

The ruling council of Mandalore watched the introductions with restless irritation, even through Master Dooku’s probing apology.

“Please forgive me for any miscalculations, councilmembers. I had not realized that you had formed such a strong preference for who might accompany me here to aid you in your troubles with the Death Watch.”

Plo could actually feel how the council reined in their ire. Whatever the reason for their dislike of Master Jinn, the Jedi were here on to help them with no offer of return consideration, and they all knew it.

“I assure you, if insult was given, I had no intent to do so,” Master Jinn said smoothly, with a respectful half-bow. 

The _Mand'alor_ narrowed his eyes and ran his tongue over his teeth. A contemplative gesture in humans, but one that edged on predatory. 

“I’m sure no insult was intended,” he said, neatly implying that it had been given regardless. “And we do appreciate the Jedi Order’s help. It is true that my _aliit_ and I are on edge. It is a travesty that children have been kidnapped and hurt. We _Mando’ad’e_ care deeply for our clans and our _ad’e_ , and indeed children in general. Their mistreatment pains us more than you can know.”

That last statement was said in almost a snarl, and Plo got the feeling that the _Mand'alor_ wasn’t simply speaking of the Death Watch. The angry thrumming from Ben’s brothers sharpened and focused hard on Master Jinn and Padawan Xanatos right at that moment as well. 

Master Jinn and Padawan Xanatos mostly felt baffled. 

“I understand,” Master Jinn said smoothly. He’d covered his confusion very well. “It is my sincerest hope that we are able to find and return your loved ones as quickly as possible, unharmed.”

The _Mand'alor_ stared at him for a moment before nodding.

“Thank you, Master Jinn. Your rooms have been prepared. My _ad’ike_ will escort you,” he said, standing up. “Councilmembers, Chieftains, I thank you for your presence. As unsettled as these times seem, our strength lies in all of us standing together. The path is difficult, but to be untested is to be damned to never find the Way.”

Several of the armored humans tapped their closed fists to their chest in salute, and many of the unarmored humans nodded along with them. 

“Tomorrow we begin planning the offensive,” the _Mand'alor_ said with grim purpose. “May it be fruitful.”

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

It took everything Yan had to not grind his teeth so hard that his jaw popped. 

He'd known that the younglings here didn’t like Qui-Gon, and he'd known that the Mandalorians were upset by what happened in the council meeting the day they were escorted off planet, but he'd had no idea that the dislike had festered so strongly. 

Some of the tension had to be because of the most recent attack and the loss of Crys and Longshot. Ben had evidently been entirely correct about the need to be as cautious as he had been about voicing even a hint of a suspicion of his brothers' Force sensitivity. Despite the care they'd taken, exactly what Ben had been concerned about had come to pass. He and the rest of the brothers were upset, though Yan had to really look for signs of it. They all had an overabundance of self-control.

That couldn’t be the only thing, though. The antipathy against his former padawan was too pronounced. Ben’s obvious distress at the Force vision they’d all felt him receive didn’t help matters at all, either. 

After years of watching Sifo-Dyas suffer through similar such events, it had taken a great deal of restraint on his part to not cart Ben off to bed. He'd known the other brothers wouldn’t appreciate such actions, though, so he'd held back. They did not trust him enough to be close to their general when Ben was so obviously in distress. 

They did, apparently, trust Master Plo enough, though. 

The mystery that this information presented was momentarily beside the point, because the moment introductions in the council room were over, Master Plo waved Yan aside to have a private word with him.

Yan took a calming breath, made their excuses, and followed. This would likely be unpleasant.

Sy’s words came back to haunt him. Had it been wise to bring Qui-Gon along? Perhaps not.

He still thought it necessary, and he was not one to shirk from necessary tasks simply because they were unpleasant. 

Two of the _Mand'alor_ ’s warriors followed them at a discreet distance, keeping an eye on them but giving them room to talk. From the knowing tilt to Jaster’s head as they walked off, he had an idea of what was about to happen.

When they had found a sufficiently quiet space, Master Plo gave Yan a look and folded his clawed fingers together.

“Master Dooku, I expected better,” he said simply.

Yan nodded in obeisance. “I am sincerely regretful, Master Koon. I did not expect this reaction.”

“You did not expect this _bad_ a reaction, though you did expect something.” His voice was as patient and calm as ever, though there was more than a hint of chiding irritation in it. 

“True,” Yan admitted. “If I had known…” He had to pause. Would he really have changed his course of action?

Possibly not. 

Perhaps it was uncharitable of him to put this mission at risk simply because he was trying to uncover a greater truth, but he could feel in his bones how needed his efforts were. 

Master Plo seemed to feel what Yan was unwilling to say out loud.

“You will tell me what you know,” Master Plo said firmly. 

“As I said, I know very little.”

“But you suspect much. Tell me, Master Dooku, so that we may unravel this mystery together.”

Yan let out a breath. He was going to end up sounding like a madman. 

“I believe that Ben is telling the truth, that he and his men truly are displaced from the future, and that the Force sent them here for a reason. He knows… far more than he should. About nearly everything, as far as I can tell. His mastery is without question, and in more matters than just the Force. The little ones call him ‘General’, and they are not wrong to do so.”

Yan looked into Master Plo’s lenses, as if he could impress upon the councilmember his sincere belief with that alone. 

“Ben and his men have been through terrible things, Master Plo. What little he has hinted at speaks of death and destruction on a scale that has been unheard of for centuries, if not millennia. And yet, what disturbs me more is what his behavior has hinted of within the Jedi Order.” Yan allowed himself the weakness of rubbing his eyes for a moment, working out some of the tension of what he was trying to express. 

“Something is terribly amiss, Master Plo, and I do not yet know the shape of it.”

They stood in silence for a minute or two as Master Plo digested this.

“Very well, Master Dooku,” Master Plo said eventually. “I will continue to follow your lead on this. We will be sharing information with each other in the future.” That wasn’t a request, and Yan knew it.

“As you say, Master Plo.” Yan bowed his head again. 

“We will watch and see what purpose the Force has brought us together for. In the meantime, there is a civil war to resolve, and you have just made our position here that much more difficult.” Plo tapped the claws of one hand on the knuckles of the other, the only sign of his continued irritation. 

"Be that as it may, your presence has made our lives much easier," Yan said with a smirk. At least _that_ had worked in his favor.

"So it seems," Master Plo mused, turning to gaze back in the direction that they came from. "Why is that, do you suppose?"

"You did something in their past, our future, to earn their trust." That much was obvious. "They liked Master Windu as well, though not as much as you. If the _Mand'alor_ had not adopted them, I suspect they would have sought you out."

Assuming that they wouldn't have just stolen a ship and gone haring off to who-knew-where in the galaxy to solve their problems themselves. They were a very direct group.

The niggling problem of who Ben's master was returned to Yan's mind. 

"Master Plo… I suspect that there is another issue."

Master Plo's face didn't show much expression, but his body language said _what now_.

Yan stepped a little closer, and dropped his voice a touch lower. "I suspect that Ben's master was either negligent or willfully abusive. Worse, Ben appears to believe his past experiences were, are, normal. More than that, he seems to find no issue with horrors that would cause any full master to quail. And he has a strong aversion to bringing attention to his own injuries, almost to the point of inflicting self-harm. This tells me that such actions went unnoticed, or were even supported by other masters of the Order. It is obvious to me that Ben was Temple trained…"

Yan wasn't sure how to put the rest of his nebulous suspicions into words.

Master Plo made a low, distressed sound. "If you are right, and your observations sound, then at the very least there is one master at the Temple who is on a path to Darkness. Perhaps more." He shook his head. "Those are strong accusations, Master Dooku."

"Which is why it is imperative we know more," Yan reminded him. "Our options are limited for the moment."

Plo shook his head. "I don't know if I believe it. There has been no sign of such misdeeds."

"Perhaps we just haven't seen them."

 _Or we ignored them_ , Yan wasn't quite willing to say. He already had Master Plo interested. There was no need to antagonize him now.

"We will complete our mission here, and be mindful of what clues can be found," Master Plo said. "For now, we should return. This has taken long enough."

Yan nodded and stepped away. Master Plo was right. They still had a political blunder to salvage.

Which reminded him...

"You should ask Ben and his brothers to do blaster practice for you. The chance to shoot at something and get shot at in return will steady them."

Master Plo stopped to stare at him.

"You are not joking," he said flatly.

"I am not," Yan said with resignation.

Master Plo took a long, slow breath, released his feelings to the Force, and then started walking again. 

Yan followed along one step behind him.

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

His General's reaction to that Force vision had been anything but reassuring, and it had taken a substantial amount of self-control on his part not to have Helix hustle the General off to a more private setting despite Kenobi's own wishes. But the General had been right to insist on staying. Leaving the _Mand'alor_ and the _jetiise_ alone together would very likely have resulted in bloodshed, after Kenobi's very public bad reaction to whatever he'd seen.

Even General Koon's presence might not have been enough to prevent a verbal brawl. Their _buir_ had been visibly displeased to see Jinn again, and he hadn't hesitated to outright say as much.

The short audience with the council that the Jedi Masters had been granted had been great entertainment, too, for all that he and his _vod'e_ had only heard about it second hand from Jango. The rest of them had had to wait outside the council chambers, and sit on their thumbs for a while. 

The great thing about that had been being able to watch as General _Buir_ all but dragged Master Dooku off for a private discussion by his ear the moment they'd come back out of the council chambers.

Master Dooku had been embarrassed by it, too.

He'd never expected to see anyone take the imposing Separatist Leader to task like that, but in retrospect General Plo Koon would be the only _jetii_ on scene who could.

Jango and _buir_ had watched them go with what had been decidedly mixed emotions. They’d put their _buy’ce_ back on once the Council was dismissed, and Cody been able to tell they were conflicted even without being able to see their faces.

The remaining knights and Master Jinn had looked like they weren't sure what to do, seeing their councilor so clearly irked by their liaison's behavior.

Helix had saved them all, in the end. "Alright, General," he said briskly. "Let's find you that glass of water."

Unable to protest that, seeing as he'd said himself that he wanted one, Kenobi had given in more or less gracefully. "Well, let's at least see the Jedi to their assigned quarters, Helix," he said, voice still somewhat rough, even through the vocoder of his bucket.

"Good idea, General," Cody jumped in, backing up their medic and closing off possible avenues of escape, "I'm sure the _jetiise_ would like some refreshments of their own."

Master Jinn, apparently in charge now, being the highest ranking Jedi left in earshot, nodded gratefully. "That would indeed be lovely," he said, jumping on the excuse to get to a position he thought would be more secure.

 _Shows what he knows,_ Cody thought derisively. _Laserbrain._

Their _buir_ nodded. "I should be getting back to my duties," he said simply. "Cody, I'll check in with you later. Jango? Keep an eye on the _jetiise_."

Thus dismissed and unsure how to react to that, the _jetiise_ exchanged looks and didn't move. 

"Please, this way," General Kenobi said, and tried to ease the awkwardness again, then. He only partially succeeded. 

The new arrivals started moving, unwilling to be left behind in the courtyard, and Kenobi took the opportunity to ask the knights what had prompted them to volunteer for this mission while they walked.

Somewhat predictably, most of the answers were something to the effect of, "well, I was asked to and it was an honor to have a chance to help Masters Koon and Dooku."

Cody wanted to scoff in derision. Every _Vod_ he'd ever led had said something like that as a shiny, sure. But that starry eyed hero worship had worn off pretty fast in them.

These _jetiise_ still had theirs, even as knights that supposedly had the experience to operate alone, if needed. 

That didn't inspire a lot of confidence in him.

But he knew better than to risk saying that to anyone but his _buir_ , or maybe Jango. Not even General Kenobi would understand.

Once they reached the large set of apartments -- one of the last intact ones -- that had been set aside for these guests of the _Mand'alor_ , _narudar_ though they might be, Helix immediately vanished into the kitchen area and began assembling some glasses of water and snacks. Wooley peeled off to help him, while the rest of them took up positions around the sitting room.

Boil, predictably, ended up next to his _riduur_ , looking mostly relaxed as he leaned against the wall.

There was a bit more idle conversation, while they waited politely for Masters Koon and Dooku to rejoin them, but nothing much of note got said. 

And then Waxer nudged Boil, quietly getting his _riduur_ 's attention, before he spoke quietly over their private narrow-band comms. "Looks like Master Dooku got a good scolding. He's not quite as intimidating as usual."

Boil huffed at him, but wisely didn't reply out loud. Cody approved. No need to risk being overheard saying something that could be misinterpreted at a time like this.

General Koon surveyed them as he approached then nodded. "It seems I was not given all of the pertinent information before our arrival here," he said, his voice as bland as it was possible to be, but Cody could hear the jab at Master Dooku and was sure everyone else could, too.

His next words stunned Cody briefly. "I've been informed that I must ask for a demonstration of something known as 'blaster practice'?"

General Kenobi raised an eyebrow at Master Dooku, getting a hint of a smirk in response, then shrugged. " _Vod'e_?"

Cody could hear the implied question: Were they willing?

On the surface it seemed like an entirely frivolous thing, but, Cody knew, it was a calculated maneuver. Master Dooku wanted General Plo to see them in action, and try to get back into their good graces by allowing them a chance to show off to someone they liked and admired.

"Commander?" Wooley prompted him, "What do you think?"

Calculated it might be, but it also represented an outlet for all their mounting frustrations. And the General's. After that Force vision he'd had, Kenobi was sure to need a distraction, and something like blaster practice would be good for just that. Kenobi had always found a certain serenity in that sort of thing that Cody had long thought only a _Vod_ would.

There were also other factors in play, beyond Master Plo's apparent curiosity, Master Dooku's appeal to their vanity, and their own need to work through some of their stress.

Cody eyed Xanatos, not sure what to think of him. He'd never met Jinn or the laserbrain's padawan prior to the karking Force mishap that had flung them back in time three decades, but his first hand impression of Jinn wasn't overly favourable. If the padawan was anything like the master, as they tended to be, that pair would represent not one but two sources of annoyance and potential political kark ups to worry about, on top of the logistics of their campaign.

Making a decision, Cody nodded. "I think that sounds like fun," he replied. "General?"

Kenobi nodded back. "Whenever you're ready."

Jango gave Master Dooku a dubious look, clearly a bit unsure. Wondering what he wanted to achieve, no doubt.

"Let's go, _Vod'e_ , the training yard awaits." Putting his bucket back on, Cody turned toward the door and waited until his men had formed up behind him. 

"It seems you will get your demonstration, then, Master Koon," General Kenobi added, draining his glass of water and putting his own bucket back on. "If you would care to accompany us?"

" _Yes,_ " Wooley hissed under his breath, a certain vicious pleasure in his voice that said he would enjoy letting _all_ of the karking _jetiise_ see how lethal the 212th in general, and Ghost Company in particular, was. "We get to show off to General _Buir_!"

The entire contingent of Jedi knights, including Master Jinn and that padawan of his, followed them, curious.

It didn't take them long to reach the training yard. He and his men kept walking and assembled in a rough circle in the middle of the open area, while the General spoke briefly to the _jetiise_. 

"As Master Dooku may or may not have explained to you, Master Koon," Kenobi said, voice genial, but carrying an undertone of anticipation and glee, "the goal of this exercise is to block or deflect all incoming blasterfire. My _Vod'e_ will provide the blasterfire, and I will wield the required lightsabre."

"That sounds simple enough," General Koon commented. "I look forward to seeing what impressed Master Dooku so."

Cody grinned at his HUD, feeling the anticipation start to flood through him as well, as he mentally prepared himself. This would be a much needed release of tension.

Wooley stretched out his neck, getting a few satisfyingly loud cracks. "Let's do this," he urged, his own smile audible.

With a fond shake of his head for their enthusiasm, General Kenobi stepped into the middle of the circle, not drawing his 'sabre yet. _Start slow,_ he signed, _we'll surprise them. End with coordinated aerial attacks._

Helix chuckled, readying his blasters and spinning them idly a few times.

The General tilted his head towards the medic, amused acknowledgement in the gesture, then deftly plucked his 'sabre off the clip at his waist and lit it.

The moment he fell into his usual ready stance, signaling that the game was on, Cody was in motion, dashing off to the General's left at an oblique angle, and firing as he went. The rest of the _Vod'e_ scattered in near unison, though Boil stuck to him like a burr for a few seconds. While they moved, repositioning themselves, they fired single shots at the General, slowly as he'd requested.

It felt strange not to have Crys and Longshot with them, like having a hole in their defenses that made an achingly tight knot form somewhere just below his throat, but Cody shoved that thought back out of his mind. 

Only once all of them had fired their first shot, not one of them ever stopping to stand still and take aim, did they start stepping things up gradually. They started by changing up the rhythm of their attacks, able to read one another well enough to know almost before it happened which attack pattern they would use, not needing words to communicate their next moves.

Somewhere in the back of his conscious mind, Cody was aware of their audience murmuring to one another, not all that impressed with the show so far. That was fine, they'd find out soon enough just what was so special about this.

"Too busy thinking to shoot, _Vod'e_?" The General taunted them with a smirk in his voice, apparently ready for more of a challenge. 

The comment got him a low growl from Wooley, who responded with a vicious three-shot barrage.

Waxer and Boil immediately joined in, and the rest of them followed, fluidly stepping up the intensity of their attacks until the blaster bolts were flying at their General almost continuously. 

Kenobi simply stood firm, feet solidly planted, and casually deflecting every shot that came at him either at a single scorched spot on the ground at his feet or at one specific target at the far end of the shooting range, as he had the last time they'd done this demonstration for an audience.

Risking a glance at said audience, Cody scanned over the group, and he could have sworn General Koon's eyes briefly caught and held his, despite the bucket he wore and the mask on the General's face. It was an eerie feeling and actually threw him off his game for the briefest moment.

His men all adjusted for his unexpected misstep, small as it was, but he could tell they were all focussed on him all of a sudden, rather than the game. "I'm fine," he sent over their comms, refocusing his attention. "Coordinated salvos!"

Helix laughed. "Sir, yes sir!"

And they were off again, that slight, momentary, pause remarked by no one but their General, who said nothing about it, and perhaps General _Buir_. 

The coordinated salvos were only two shots at a time, at first, a phase that lasted until either they got impatient or General Kenobi started goading them.

Without having to say a word, they paired off for the moment, all of them well aware that those pairs would be changed up at will until they got to the three-shot salvos and then the aerials. Waxer went with Boil, and Wooley with Helix, leaving Cody the free agent, and they began their new attack pattern. The two-shot salvos were a part of the drill they'd practically skipped over last time, more interested in the fast and showy moves. They started out with both shots coming from similar directions, and worked up to salvos that came from two random directions.

It took under a minute for the General to verbally spur them on again. "You're moving sluggishly today, _Vod'e_. What's the matter? Did I keep you all up too late last rotation?"

 _You want a bigger piece of me, General,_ Cody grinned wolfishly, _you'll get it._

"You heard him, _Vod'e_ ," he called out, and the two-shot salvos became three, to the audible astonishment of the onlookers.

A few salvos in, they started adding in the aerial elements, using quick deft touches on their jetpack boosters to send themselves into the air just long enough to fire and then touch back down. At first, they were content with simply changing the angles the shots came in from, and worked their way up to more complex moves. That went on, seamlessly, until they were spending more time in the air than on the ground.

"If you think that's enough to bring me to my knees," the General quipped, flirting like he breathed, "think again, _Vod'e_. Though I must admit it would be a lovely view."

 _If only,_ Cody couldn't help but think.

And then he was too busy to think about the General and his horribly distracting comments, because Kenobi had leapt into the air to join them, deflecting their shots unerringly even while he was mid-leap.

Kenobi touched down on Boil's left shoulder with one foot, pushing back off again and sending himself into a somersault as the rest of the _Vod'e_ seemed to swirl around him, continuing the coordinated fire.

"Catch me if you can," Kenobi called out to them, laughing, and kept moving, turning something that had started out as a simple exercise that any _jetii_ could do into a fully aerial dance few would have thought possible.

Cody certainly hadn't, until he'd seen it happen.

The General repeated that maneuver a few times, before he sent himself into a leap that ended in him pressing the full length of his body against Cody's, and, armoured or not, that sent a shock of longing through him that had him biting at his lip, hard.

Before he could fully process that it had even happened, the General had pushed himself into another vertical leap, deflected three more shots, and then let himself drop back to the ground, landing in an easy crouch, and coming into the ready position that signaled he was done.

Cody, fighting to breathe evenly, followed his _Vod'e_ back down to the ground, as well. "You definitely know how to show a _Vod_ a good time, General," he quipped, and got a delighted chuckle out of the man.

"You think that's a good time, Cody, just you wait. Some of the things I could show you would blow your mind."

Before Cody could even begin to reply to that, fighting the blush that had called up, the rest of the _Vod'e_ clustered around them, laughing and happy in their lingering exhilaration, and a beat later, General Koon was stepping up to them.

Cody could hear the watching Jedi in their positions nearby muttering to one another about what they'd just witnessed and trying to work out how it had been done. That padawan of Jinn's, his voice just loud enough to carry, commented, "They're all karking mad, that's how they did it!"

On the heels of that statement, Cody could almost see General Kenobi flinch, as though the mere sound of that voice was somehow painful to him, and his General's right fist clenched. Knowing Kenobi, probably his jaw, as well.

Thank the Force, General _Buir_ distracted Kenobi from whatever was going through his head right then. Cody could tell it was nothing good, even if he had no idea what it could have been.

"Very impressive indeed, younglings," he said, giving them all a speculative look. "Where did you pick up such innovative tactics?"

General Kenobi shrugged. "That has to do with the tale I could not tell you earlier, Master Koon," he said, evasively but truthfully.

"Hm. I think perhaps we should make time for this tale," General _Buir_ rumbled, his tone thoughtful and measured.

"Perhaps." General Kenobi answered with a shrug, not giving an inch. "For the time being, I would rather focus my energies on getting my missing _Vod'e_ back."

Helix cleared his throat. "If I may, Generals," he put in, "there's not a lot we can do until we have a plan, so I'd suggest one more set of drills -- maybe flight training -- and then some rest."

"Ardanna wanted to see you again before the end of the rotation, for that matter, General," Wooley put in. "Something about that surcoat you asked her for."

General Kenobi considered that for a moment, his head tilting just slightly as he thought, then shrugged. "I see no reason why we couldn't do flight training, and you're entirely correct that we can't make any moves against the Death Watch until the Jedi have been read in on what little plan we have. However. I would like to offer Master Koon the opportunity to join in, if he is willing."

That seemed to catch General Koon off guard. "Join in on what, youngling?" He asked.

Cody could tell that he would agree; General Koon's curiosity had been piqued. "Flight training is what we do when we want to practice aerial maneuvers but don't have access to our jetpacks for whatever reason," he answered in his General's place. 

"Without your jetpacks?" General Koon sounded like he would have raised an eyebrow at them if he could.

"Allow us to demonstrate," Kenobi offered with a smirk. "Cody?"

"Of course, sir," he answered with a grin. _Rex would hate this part,_ he thought with a pang, but Rex wasn't here, now, was he.

Before he could lose himself in thoughts of his missing _Vod_ , though, he was soaring up into the air, and his training took over. He automatically took in the trajectory the General had given him, tucked himself into a somersault, and landed neatly on a nearby balcony attached to the central building.

He took the opportunity to survey the training yard, and noticed that their audience had grown, the few off-duty _verd'e_ staking out seats near the gardens.

A moment later, he heard Kenobi say, "That is flight training. Give the men a boost and make sure their trajectory gives them a safe landing zone and they'll do the rest. It's saved lives before, in the field."

That was only going to pique Koon's curiosity even more, but Cody knew that his General intended that to happen. He'd done it twice, now. Tweaking Koon's nose, as it were.

Kenobi had always enjoyed being mysterious and making other people ask him for things.

"Oh? And when were you in the field, youngling?" General Koon asked. "Surely you have not seen more than a few skirmishes, at your age."

 _If only you knew, General Koon,_ Cody thought sadly as he nimbly vaulted over the railing of the balcony and let the General catch him before he landed, as was usual for this drill. He might be wearing his jetpack, but the assumption inherent in this exercise was that that piece of kit was either missing or nonfunctional.

Kenobi kept silent about that, simply ignoring the question. "Now that you've seen what flight training is," he said instead, "how would you like to take part in a wager?"

General Koon laughed. "Very well, youngling," he answered. "You may keep your own counsel for now. What is this wager you propose?"

"You and I will take turns launching my _Vod'e_. You will select two _verd'e_ and I will pick two Jedi. The four of them will be our judges and scorekeepers. The goal is to see which of us can guide my _Vod'e_ into the most intricate and well-executed maneuvers. Each of us will fling each of them once. Each throw can be awarded up to a maximum of three points each for style, complexity, and execution."

"Ah but that is a game that is biased against me from the start," General Koon protested.

"No, it isn't," Wooley protested, automatically defending Kenobi, but also meaning every word.

"Oh?" Koon turned to watch him closely. "Curious. You believe I will be as good at your game as young Ben, for all that I have never attempted it before?"

Kenobi grinned broadly at Koon. "So how about it?"

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

In an attempt to keep his _Vod'e_ from giving away all too much with their comments, he'd grasped at whatever he could come up with to keep General Plo distracted for a few more minutes.

The wager he'd proposed was a low-risk one -- he was fairly sure he could win it -- but a lot rode on what General Plo asked for as his winnings.

"So, how about it?" He asked with a grin, forcing himself to ignore the rest of the Jedi watching them closely, and the cluster of curious _verd'e_ at the opposite end of the training yard, not coincidentally as far from the Jedi as they could get.

It was time to roll the dice and see what came of this. The Force had prompted him to believe that the arrival of Master Dooku and the Jedi with him would result in positive things, and meantime he was fairly certain that was wholly due to Master Plo's presence among them.

Master Plo watched him for a few moments, seeming to weigh him, then did much the same to the _Vod'e_. "What will you wager?" He asked.

"Seeing as I own neither credits nor account," Ben replied, "would an exchange of knowledge suit?"

That grabbed Master Plo's attention immediately. "What kind of knowledge?" He asked, clearly tempted by the offer, but well aware that as a member of the Jedi Council he could not freely promise information of his own.

"I win, and you'll help me with a project of mine that I cannot seem to solve on my own -- we'll discuss details later, but it's nothing dangerous; I am attempting to develop a new shielding technique -- and if you win, I'll show you the trick to that aerial display." Ben watched him relax immediately, and felt the _Vod'e_ do much the same as they realised just what it was he wanted Master Plo to help them with.

Master Plo made a rumbling sound deep in his chest as he considered, watching them closely. "That seems a fair exchange. Very well. I accept."

"General Kenobi," Cody addressed him, then, "for fairness' sake, I'd suggest the five of us each choose one preferred aerial to execute while you choose your judges."

"Sounds good," Ben replied with a nod. "Go ahead, Cody."

Master Plo watched the five _Vod'e_ pull together in a tight huddle and begin signing fluidly to one another, then turned back toward their spectators. "I think it might be wisest if you remained by my side as I make my choices of judges. Your warriors are certainly not overly fond of mine."

That was certainly not a statement Ben could disagree with, so he agreed easily. "As you wish it, Master Koon. I am at your disposal in this matter."

The _verd'e_ watched them approach warily, but brightened when they learned what was about to happen, and two of them stepped forward, saving Master Plo from having to make a choice. "I thank you for assisting me in this," Master Plo told them politely. "I know that right now everyone is tense, and you most of all."

Both of the _verd'e_ felt just a little bit uncomfortable in the Force, but it was clear that his trust and the 212th's in Master Plo had already been remarked by them.

"Most _jetiise_ wouldn't get any assistance at all," one of them said bluntly. "We're doing this mostly for the _Mand'alor_ 's _ad'ike_."

"Nevertheless," Master Plo persisted. "It is appreciated."

Neither of the pair of _verd'e_ said anything further, and the matter was dropped. The two of them stayed put where they were, when Ben and Master Plo turned and approached Master Jinn and the group of Knights.

Just knowing that Xanatos was among them was unsettling Ben's stomach again, and he had to swallow hard as they approached the group. Force, if he was going to react this viscerally every time he knew Xanatos was near him, for all that the padawan had done nothing to draw his fear or ire, it would raise suspicion among the Jedi and probably anger among his _Vod'e_.

Assuming his reactions thus far hadn't already.

Drawing a steadying breath and reminding himself to keep his shields up, Ben shoved as much of his mild nausea and dread aside as he could. Thankfully, following their talk with the _verd'e_ , where Ben had ended up playing buffer, Master Plo had decided to do the same for him and the Jedi, and Ben picked two knights at random, their names washing over and past him as they introduced themselves, heard but not remembered.

He could figure that out later, if need be, he told himself. Steady.

In the meantime, his _Vod'e_ had made their decisions and lined themselves up in the middle of the training yard, standing shoulder to shoulder and waiting more or less patiently while they made their arrangements.

"Ah, Master Koon," Ben turned to him as they approached the _Vod'e_ , "one last question before we begin: would you like to take a moment to get used to the feeling of lifting one of the men? It can be a very odd sensation for one who is not used to it, or has not done it in a long while."

He got an intrigued look in response. "Is it different from lifting a Jedi youngling?"

Ben laughed. "Try it and see."

Master Plo looked at him a moment longer, evidently trying to determine whether that was a warning given in good faith or a subtle trick, then held out one clawed hand in a familiar gesture, and lifted all five of the _Vod'e_ simultaneously.

He got whoops and laughter out of them as they drifted gently into the air and spun in random directions, loose, relaxed, and completely at ease, for a few seconds. All Ben could feel from them in the Force in that moment was a sense of buoyant joy and trust that made him smile fondly. They were exceptional, these men. Truly exceptional.

When he put them down, setting all of them gently back on their feet with a deft touch, Master Plo commented, "I see what you mean. They… hum gently against one's skin. Most curious. I have never encountered this before."

Nodding, acknowledging the point but not elaborating, Ben suggested. "Shall we get on with it, then, so that our judges don't get bored?"

"Just so," Master Plo agreed, and swept out a hand towards the _Vod'e_ to indicate that he should start.

That would give Plo the advantage of knowing what score he needed to beat, but Ben didn't mind that. He knew his _Vod'e_ and was confident in his own skill.

"Ready, _Vod'e_?" He asked them, more for their audience's sake than their own. He knew his men and they knew him. There would be no misunderstandings. Wouldn't have been even if he'd simply grabbed for them and yanked at the Force. The 212th and 501st were used to suddenly finding themselves airborne during training of all sorts, and most of them loved it.

"We're green, General," Cody answered, just as perfunctory.

Ben didn't wait any longer. He picked up Helix, enjoying the way the medic hummed against his Force senses, reassuringly present, then flung him upwards, aiming for the roof of the central palace building.

Helix laughed, joy and abandon in the sound, and sent himself into a complex rotating somersault that had the others cheering him on. Ben watched, pleased, as he landed solidly in a crouch at the edge of the roof, as planned.

Master Plo chuckled. "Ah, such untainted joy is always a pleasure to feel in the Force," he said.

"It is," Ben agreed, picking up Wooley with barely a pause.

That _Vod_ \-- a trifle less confident in the air than Helix, who had always reveled in such exercises -- tended more towards simple, utilitarian movements, but this time, as Ben flung him into the air, sending him soaring towards the balcony he'd put Cody on just minutes ago, he executed a lovely mid-air twist similar to Helix's, but with a single flip, rather than a double.

Boil wolf-whistled at him over their private comms. "Nicely done, _Vod_!"

With an amused huff of laughter, Ben picked him up next, and got a startled squeak out of Boil. It quickly turned into another identical-sounding whoop of pleasure, as Boil sent himself into a flip, tucked his knees in close, then landed with a solid thump on the nearby palace walls.

Waxer followed him, executing the same move Helix had chosen, though he added an extra tuck at the end, just so he could do one more rotation before he landed in a roll to pop up right at Boil's feet.

And then, Ben grinned wolfishly, it was his Commander's turn.

Certain Cody would do his utmost to show off what he could do, Ben picked him up, pausing just long enough to enjoy the way his Commander all but vibrated in anticipation, then sent his _Vod_ directly skyward.

Cody, who immediately knew exactly what he had in mind, laughed and didn't protest what Ben was certain had to be a change of plans, flinging himself into a complex somersault that twisted dizzyingly, twice, before pulling himself into a pike, his hands around his knees and his legs outstretched. He held the pose as long as he could before he released it just in time to catch himself in a crouch and a puff of dust where he landed on one fist and one knee, one foot planted off to the side for balance. It was very obviously the most technically complex and difficult maneuver of the five, and Ben could feel Cody's smugness at having pulled it off without prior warning.

Their spectators applauded -- the _verd'e_ with enthusiasm, and the Jedi politely -- and Ben gathered all four of the perched _Vod'e_ up with the Force, bringing them back to their initial positions.

Master Plo surveyed them, obviously feeling and enjoying their glee and pleasure. 

Ben had to admit, it was doing wonders to relax him as well. The perfect counter to the nausea and general unpleasantness he'd felt for the last half hour or so.

Their four judges reported Ben's scores. After a quick bit of arithmetic to work out the average of the four numbers, out of a possible 45 points he and his _Vod'e_ had scored 41.

When it was his turn to make the attempt, Master Plo followed the example Ben had set, sending the same _Vod'e_ to the same places, using about the same amount of strength to get them airborne. Despite that, he was rather more tentative than Ben had been in his first two throws, not wishing to overdo anything and potentially cause any injuries.

The _Vod'e_ all did just as well as before, but the first two of them wobbled a little in the air, as a result of the more tentative throws, and Ben knew that would come through in the scores.

Sure enough, once Cody had landed that same complex move a second time, his self-satisfaction even stronger than before, their judges approached them again, and Master Plo learned that he had scored a total of 39 points.

"A valiant effort," Ben said, pleased with himself and his _Vod'e_ , "but I believe I have carried the day, this time, Master Koon."

"Indeed you have, youngling," Plo didn't sound like he minded that one bit. "Now, will you tell me more about this project of yours? It truly doesn't seem like you need any assistance in shielding."

"I shouldn't delay too much in going to see the master armourer," Ben demurred, "and Helix was quite right that having time to rest would do everyone good. Perhaps after the evening meal? We'll be spending the coming rotation on planning and logistics, after all."

Master Koon bowed. "After the evening meal, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are some videos of what we had in mind for the aerial stunts:
> 
> Helix: [full twisting double layout](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KMM27uT0cUs/WBCpCXmNV-I/AAAAAAAAIhY/BfYz2XO4QAIbEyFprvHYpHE-NPHGCe29ACLcB/s1600/Untitled-1.gif)
> 
> Wooley: [triple twist (without single tuck at the end)](https://gymnasticscoaching.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/triple-twist.gif)
> 
> Boil and Waxer: [Full in,](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6d/94/50/6d9450b96312f5cbb33d1acacb12c196.gif) [Piked full-in](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d1/48/c4/d148c43266602aa05534f292ffc3ac02.gif)
> 
> Cody: [double-twisting, double somersault](https://thumbs.gfycat.com/HoarseChubbyCreature-size_restricted.gif)


	19. Chapter 19

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Ben was distracted by thoughts of what to tell Plo, and how to say it, all through his visit to Ardanna -- who laughed at him and told him he needed to come back when he was clear-headed enough to make some decisions -- and through their meal with their _buir_ and Jango.

Both of them had been in sour moods, tired and frustrated after fighting the council into not simply kicking Master Qui-Gon back off-planet.

"I think Chieftain Adonai was about to suggest buying him and that Padawan of his a kriffing ticket back to the Core aboard the next passing freighter," Jango said.

Cody snorted. "I wouldn't argue against it," he said, "and I think you'd be surprised at how willing he would be to take you up on the offer, himself, but the other _jetiise_ would be offended, and we need them around to help us get our _Vod'e_ back."

Ben shrugged. "If all goes well, I might be able to get a fix on their location tonight," he offered, his thoughts still fixed firmly on planning his approach. He needed Master Plo to believe him, the first time he told the story. And he needed Master Plo not to immediately go to the Jedi Council with the information Ben was planning to divulge. It would be a delicate balance to strike.

The _Mand'alor_ gave him an appraising look. "I heard about your acrobatics and that wager," he said. "That was cleverly done and calmed down a lot of the council members."

"Master Plo is an excellent _jetii_ ," Helix asserted, and the rest of the _Vod'e_ nodded, backing him up.

Waxer grinned broadly. "He picked up on how flight training worked almost immediately. Now I know why Commander Wolffe is so possessive."

Ben wanted to sigh. He saw Cody give Waxer a dark look. 

Excellent warriors they might be, but his _Vod'e_ were gossips who didn't always recall the meaning of the word discretion, when they felt they were among friends. 

"Commander Wolffe?" Jango asked, and Waxer stopped short.

Cody drew a breath and held it for just a moment before he answered. "One of our _Vod'e_ , from back home. Held a rank similar to mine. Well, maybe he still does. I don't know how time travel works."

When Cody faltered, missing his friend, Ben jumped in. "Commander Wolffe was assigned to Master Koon," he added, "and our units often worked together on assignments. Their specialty was… _is_ search and rescue."

"They called themselves the Wolfpack, and painted their armour accordingly," Boil put in.

"I miss them," Wooley said, sadly. "Craziest bunch of _Vod'e_ in the GAR, after Rex and Torrent, but they were kriffing good at what they did. Hopefully they still are."

A silence fell that felt almost like it belonged at the end of a Remembrance day, and Ben winced.

He waited his men out. They wouldn't let it linger overly long.

Helix cleared his throat after a few seconds. "Well, that got depressing."

Their _buir_ raised an eyebrow at them, pointedly. "So," he asked, "when were you going to tell us about this?"

"We did," Ben pointed out. "Back on Korda VI, I told you that Master Sifo-Dyas commissioned an army, remember? There were quite a lot more than seven _vod'e_ in our previous timeline."

"Oh." Jango's voice was a little faint. "Okay. Right. You did tell us that. I just… I guess I never made the connection."

"The original commission was for ten million," Cody said with a shrug. "I think when we started the Saleucami campaign the total was about five and a quarter."

" _Five and a quarter million?_ " _Buir_ looked a bit pale. 

"That seems about right," Ben agreed.

"Kriff," Jango muttered. "And all of them are just as well trained as you, aren't they?"

Cody smirked. "No, the 212th Attack Battalion, and Ghost Company in particular, have a certain… reputation for competence and ferocity."

Ben returned the smirk. "And I encouraged that to remain so, of course."

Wooley snorted, "Your idea of training us to work with you was to just show up on the third deck about three days into our shakedown cruise, march into the shooting range, and tell us to shoot at a target that could defend itself."

"It worked, didn't it?" Ben defended himself lazily.

Jango and their _buir_ exchanged looks.

"That's pretty typical of Ben," Jango pointed out.

Their _buir_ sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as though to stave off a headache. "Yeah," he agreed. "It is."

Cody nodded. "You get used to it, after a while," he offered.

The rest of their meal passed in relative silence, save for a few scattered snatches of smalltalk and requests for the one dish or the other. 

Ben barely noticed, trying to query the Force about what he was about to attempt. It was odd, though. His thoughts seemed to slip away like mist, for all that he tried to convince them to come clear. Something about this upcoming discussion with Master Plo was… well, it was going to go well, he could tell that much. But the rest? It was frustratingly muddled and no amount of focus would make it less so.

Then, before he was really ready for it, the chime sounded that announced a visitor. Waxer and Boil jumped up out of their seats. "We'll get it! It's probably General _Buir_."

"You know," Jango commented, "after what you just told us, _vod'ike_ , it makes a lot more sense that you call him that."

"Ah," Master Plo's voice rumbled in their living area, "Good evening, younglings. Is Ben available?"

Shaking off the slight reverie, Ben stood, pushing his chair back, and hurriedly disposed of his dirty dishes in the appropriate places. The rest of his _Vod'e_ jumped to their own feet and followed suit, clearly eager to see Master Plo again.

When he stepped out into their sitting room, Ben had to suppress an amused snort. Waxer and Boil had somehow ended up with their arms wrapped tightly around Master Plo's waist, and they looked very pleased with that state of affairs.

Felt it, too, glowing with a contentment in the Force that Ben hadn't felt from them in far too long. "Master Plo," he greeted the Kel Dor with a smile. "I see you have been getting better acquainted with my _Vod'e_."

"Ben," Master Plo returned, and he smiled, a clawed hand landing on each _Vod_ 's shoulder.

Cody and the rest of his _Vod'e_ , apparently wanting to get in on the action, stepped past him and joined Waxer and Boil in what might have been a tackle-hug had they been the sizes they were used to.

"We missed you, General _Buir_ ," Waxer whispered.

Master Plo looked down at them, then back up at Ben and past him. " _Mand'alor_. Please forgive the intrusion."

Their _buir_ hesitated, then waved that away. "My _ad'ike_ seem to like you," he said after a beat. "I've come to learn that that is a good indicator of how trustworthy a _jetii_ is."

He hadn't realised that their _buir_ had picked up on that, but, in retrospect, his men hadn't been overly subtle in their dislike of Master Qui-Gon. The _Vod'e_ themselves exchanged shrewd looks, and Ben just knew the lot of them would be taking shameless advantage of the fact that their _buir_ had openly admitted that he trusted their judgement.

And then it registered that Master Plo was watching him carefully. "Your brothers seem quite attached to me already," he said quietly, gently, looking down at them to make his pun clear. "Are you inclined to join them?"

It was his turn to hesitate.

On the one hand, this was _Master Plo_ , one of his dearest friends and most trusted allies. On the other, for all their similarities, it wasn't _his_ Master Plo.

A nudge to his shoulder made him look up in surprise. "Go on," his _buir_ suggested. "We can all see you want to."

Master Plo shrugged. "If Ben does not wish it, I will not insist. But I have always had a certain fondness for younglings."

Swallowing hard at the way that made him suddenly homesick, Ben took a shaky breath and then a first step forward.

No one spoke, and Ben found that somehow sped his footsteps, until he was all but throwing himself into the older Master's arms.

He was lifted up, the slightest swirl of the Force helping him up so that Master Plo didn't have to dislodge any of the _Vod'e_ , and then Ben found himself wrapped up in a sense of welcome that felt much like the one his _Vod'e_ had offered him eight rotations and an eternity ago. The sensation jerked an involuntary tear to his eye, but he refused to let it fall.

They simply stayed like that for what had to be several minutes, Master Plo patiently waiting for him to calm before he made a move to put Ben back down. "Now, you mentioned something about shielding, I believe, youngling? And I would very much like to know why you are 'General' and I am 'General _Buir_ '."

Belatedly, he realised that that sense of welcome he'd felt might well be what had prompted the _Vod'e_ to give Master Plo the nickname he was so curious about. He'd have felt like 'home' to them, and from there it was a short step to the idea that a bunch of _Vod'e_ needed a _buir_.

"That is a story that can wait until after we've finished discussing the shielding," Ben replied cautiously. He still wasn't sure how Master Plo would react to hearing about their pasts… or maybe it was their future, from this perspective.

"Very well," the Kel Dor Master agreed, "but I _will_ insist on an answer, this time, or I fear my own curiosity shall prick at me at inopportune moments."

The statement got a snicker out of the _Vod'e_ , who released him as one, and stepped back.

Ben waved Master Plo to a spot on the comfortable sofa, then looked up at Jango and the _Mand'alor_ , still watching them with a mix of curiosity and caution. " _Buir_ ," he said, "this will probably be very boring for anyone not directly involved. There is no need for you to stay, if there are other demands on your time."

" _Ad'ika_ , anyone who wants my attention after the evening meal had better either be _aliit_ or have a kriffing important message to deliver," his _buir_ told him. "I specifically told the council I was taking the evening to rest and that they should do the same. The next rotation will not be an easy one."

That made it all the more imperative that he find Crys and Longshot in the next few hours. That information would be critical to their planning session.

"Then I'd suggest you get comfortable, if you're planning to stay," he answered.

Turning to his _Vod'e_ he beckoned Waxer over. "Master Plo," he said, "before we begin, I have a couple of points of interest I wish to raise."

That got him a nod. "What are they?"

"The first has to do with my _Vod'e_ ," Ben answered. "I discovered it only recently, but several of them show evidence of being very slightly Force sensitive. It's just barely strong enough to detect, which is how it went unnoticed for so long. I cannot prove it, but I suspect that the others have a latent sensitivity, and all of them show evidence of having formed weak Force bonds with one another. But, perhaps most importantly, one of these five is bonded to me."

Astonished, Master Plo looked around the room, scrutinising all five _Vod'e_. "I cannot sense any such bonds," he replied, slowly, picking his words with care, "though you are entirely correct about the nature of your brother's sensitivity. It is indeed very slight. Are you certain?"

"Oh yes, Master Plo. I'm quite certain," Ben replied with a rueful half-smile. "I found out about it the hard way."

"There's an easy way, sir?" Wooley asked him.

"Under other circumstances," Ben said carefully avoiding mentioning the chips, "yes. But yours is a special case."

"Special how?" Master Plo asked.

Ben was tempted to try to dodge the question, but he knew it might well become relevant later on, when they started working out how best to layer the shields they'd need to function, going forward. "Special in that the sensitivity is suppressed under some circumstances," Ben said with a sigh. "It's latent in four of these five of my _Vod'e_. Active in Waxer," he put a hand on the _Vod_ 's shoulder, "and in their two missing comrades."

Waxer cleared his throat pointedly. " _Our_ missing comrades, sure, but you're one of us too, General. Don't forget that."

The statement got a thoughtful hum out of Master Plo, who considered them for a few long seconds, gently prodding at them in the Force and making Waxer twitch ever so slightly. "So, if my understanding of what you carefully _didn't_ say is correct," he replied, "you believe that the latent bonds are affecting the active ones."

"We've seen it happen, Master Plo," Helix put in. "The General tried to open himself up to us to find Crys and Longshot after they got taken. It… didn't go well."

Their _buir_ looked at him sharply, and Ben suddenly wondered just what he knew about that disastrous first attempt. Clearing his throat, he forged on ahead. "No, it didn't. And we've been working on resolving the issue, but it's been slow going and I can't help but feel that we're running out of time."

"Thus the request that I assist in developing this new shielding technique you seek to implement," Master Plo deduced, entirely correctly.

"Precisely," Ben said, and knew his voice must have sounded weary. "It's been a long few rotations, and we have several more looming before us. I would end the uncertainty over the location of my _Vod'e_ , and prevent any further bond mishaps going forward. The new shields I seek to develop would accomplish both objectives with one stroke."

"Then let us begin. Tell me what it is you wish to implement," Master Plo invited him.

Ben took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I was taught how to layer a single shield for myself. I worked out how to shield others, temporarily, if there was need to take such a measure. I seek to combine the two, but have yet to find a combination that works. My goal is to have a shield between myself and my bonded _Vod'e_ , a slot for a second temporary one between them and their latent bonds with the others, for those occasions where it's needful, and I would like to have both of those _under_ my day to day shields, if possible."

"Would it not be simpler to teach your _Vod'e_ ," Master Plo seemed to stumble over the word, its taste strange to him, "how to shield, themselves?"

"I've been attempting to do just that, with little success," Ben admitted. "I fear it will take longer to reach that goal -- though reach it, we will -- than for the next potential attack to reach us. The Death Watch have barely given us time to breathe in between their bombings and assassination attempts."

Master Plo considered that for a couple of minutes. "If there is a way to accomplish what you seek to do, Ben," he said eventually, "it is not known to me. Perhaps it is possible, but I cannot offer you an answer to your question directly. Unless we were to rephrase the question."

"What does _that_ mean?" Ben heard Jango mutter.

"It means," Master Plo replied, unruffled, "that I cannot show him how to layer his shields the way he wishes to, but I _can_ show him how to extend his shields to the _vod_ " the word came out more smoothly that time, "that he is actively bonded to."

Ben considered that. It was an elegant solution, letting him shield out the other four _vod'e_ and the rest of the world, protecting the three fragile bonds he had wanted to. Better still, it allowed him to thin the shields he was holding between himself and Waxer.

He couldn't thin them as much as Waxer would doubtless want him to, but it would be a big step in the right direction. "That sounds workable," he said, hearing the relief in his own voice.

Perhaps best of all, though, he would be able to extend the shields to cover the others as well, once their chips came out.

\--- POV: Plo Koon ---

“Arrange yourselves comfortably,” Plo said with a gesture around the room. He settled himself kneeling on the floor, just off from center. Ben picked up his unspoken signal and knelt down across from him. The rest of the brothers -- the _vod’e_ , Plo reminded himself -- arranged themselves around Ben.

“Bring pillows,” Ben advised. “This could take a very long time.”

Wooley started tossing throw pillows at his brothers, and each caught theirs deftly. The _Mand'alor_ and his oldest son, Jango, stayed seated on the edge of the room.

As the younglings settled themselves, Plo organized his thoughts. 

A most unusual group. If he’d been surprised by the feeling of their welcome in the Force at the landing pad, he had been outright shocked by the hug they’d all enveloped him in. These boys trusted him _personally_ , showing him more devotion than Plo had seen in most people and situations. 

Even young initiates raised in the crèches didn’t react to strange Jedi like that. These _vod’e_ didn’t trust his Order or his rank, they trusted _him_.

It was a very humbling feeling.

“Close your eyes, younglings, and listen.” Plo let his voice lower and slow, using his tone to draw them into relaxation. Ben would not need it, but the other five _vod’e_ might. 

“First, we will breathe together,” he said. “Then, Ben, I will guide you with your shields. _Vod’e_ , try to stay focused on your breathing. Do not try to empty your minds, that is folly. Just acknowledge your thoughts as they arrive and let them flow away.”

Plo took a deep inhale and followed his own advice. Not that anyone else would see it with his lenses and antitox ventilator. 

“Breathe in,” he said quietly. “Imagine that the world around you is filled with Light. A delicate dusting that touches everything. Breathe out. Picture all of your worries flowing out of you with your breath, only to dissipate in the air.”

He took two more slow breaths in and out. The tension noticeably dropped, little bit by little bit.

“Breathe in. The Light is warm around you. Breathe out. Let unhappiness drift away. We are here together. We are safe.”

He let them all breathe for a couple of minutes. It was fortuitous that many baseline humans found lower tones soothing. That meant the deeper sound of Plo’s augmented voice was far less jarring for them. 

The room filled with the quiet sound of them all simply _being_.

Carefully, delicately, Plo reached out a mental hand towards Ben. He barely brushed Ben’s shields; there was no need for them to drop all at once. That would only cause them all more distress.

Ben’s mind touched his with the surety of an old friend. 

_You’re better than I am at this_ , Ben said softly into Plo’s mind. They both still had the bulk of their shields up. There wasn’t a hint of unintended bleedover of emotion or memory. Ben’s thoughts carried only a light taste of wry amusement.

 _We all learn from each other. Even masters_ , Plo thought back. With those words, he sent the mental flavor of a nod of approval and affection. 

The _vod’e_ had welcomed Plo with fierce love, but they weren’t the only ones. Even though Ben was more reserved, he was nearly as relieved and pleased to see Plo as his brothers. That couldn’t be ignored. 

Whoever else these little ones might be, it was clear to him that they all needed care and support. He didn’t even try to stop himself from attempting to fill the void. 

Plo took two more long breaths and steadied himself for the coming task.

 _I will shield your vod’e as we work on your shields, so that you may do so without concern for yourself or them_ , he sent.

Ben’s reply wasn’t a coherent thought, just a burst of relief and gratitude. 

It wasn’t precisely easy to shield so many minds other than his own, but in this setting it wasn’t a strain, either. Plo was rather impressed that Ben had been managing it for so long -- it had to have been days on end, judging by the things Ben had carefully avoided saying. The _vod’e_ themselves were doing an admirable job of staying calm. Their minds were disciplined in a way that Plo had never seen in children before. Or many adults, for that matter. It made shielding them less of a challenge than it otherwise would have been.

That type of focus made it less of a surprise that Ben was being thrown off by their emotions. If his _vod’e_ were as upset over the loss of their brothers as it seemed they might be, then staying unshielded to such strong wills, all bent on anger and pain, would be extremely unpleasant for any Jedi. Potentially dangerous, as well.

As soon as the little warriors were all under Plo’s shields, he mentally nudged Ben.

 _Now, we will rebuild your shields_ , Plo thought to him. _We often use visuals to help our minds construct our shields, so I will give you another to work with. Instead of picturing yourself as a fortified bunker surrounded by walls on all sides, instead imagine that you are a star._

He could feel Ben’s curiosity. Out of respect and courtesy, Plo did not lower his own shields at all. While he probably _could_ use this as an excuse to glean information from Ben’s mind, even the accidental details that would flow to him without effort once Ben was unshielded, to do so would be impossibly rude. So Plo kept his mind on their task and allowed Ben as much privacy as the little one desired, accepting only those impressions that were offered to him.

 _Picture yourself a star in the Force_ , he continued. _Each one of your vod’e is a planet orbiting around you. You are all the same system, though you are different celestial beings._

There was a shock of excitement from Ben as he started to see the shape of what Plo was suggesting. It made Plo twitch his mandibles in pleasure. With that reframing of the problem alone, Ben would likely be able to figure out where Plo was going with the exercise. He really was more than just talented; he was superbly skilled and knowledgeable. No doubt the little master would have been able to figure this out on his own, given time. 

Plo continued with his guidance anyways. No need to leave it up to chance. 

_Begin by layering shields on yourself. Lightly. These can be adjusted later; for now we will start slow._

Gossamer thin mental shields started to wrap around Ben. They were surprisingly delicate. Another intriguing sign. Masters who specialized in combat or the more martial aspects of their use of the Force often had difficulty with things that required a soft touch or very fine control. 

Every time Plo thought that he would cease to be impressed with Ben’s skill and ability, he was proven wrong.

Without further direction, Ben pressed out his presence in the Force, building a shield around Waxer _and_ himself, separate from the ones that remained solely on Ben alone. 

Plo wanted to hum with satisfaction. 

_Excellent. Yes, you see it now. Shield yourself, then your actively bonded_ vod _, and then your inactively bonded_ vod’e _. You are all the same system, layers of planets orbiting around your sun_ , he repeated again, reinforcing the mental image.

Shields spun out, visible to Plo’s mind's eye as layers of light. First, as sheer as the finest synthweave and then thicker and more durable. 

_Once you have reached the desired equilibrium between yourself and the other minds in your system, you can protect the system as a whole. Layer heavier shields out around you all. When you attempt to shield a mind other than your own, and you shield it as a separate entity, it creates more strain, for you are building two different Force structures. With this design, you are all one structure. These are just a variation on your own personal shields which can be maintained effortlessly._

Plo watched with fascination as Ben built his defenses. These were not just the durasteel bulwarks that had been noticeable from the outside. Ben layered his shields in creative and innovative ways, alternating between different _types_ of shielding. Thick, impenetrable walls alternated with swirling redirections and sticky mind traps. Ben didn’t just protect his mind, he made it actively dangerous for someone attempting to breach his defenses. If that weren’t impressive enough, he then obfuscated these ‘traps’ with layers of power and misdirection, and slammed astonishing walls on top of it all. 

The end result was a smooth, unreadable shell. 

At this point Plo was more than impressed; he was disturbed. Why would anyone need shields like this? And how had he learned to create them?

Sensing that Ben was finished, Plo released his own shields on the _vod’e_ , leaving them open and protected only by Ben’s defenses. 

The effect was immediate. 

Waxer let out a soft gasp, and then flung himself at Ben.

“I can feel you, you’re here,” he said softly. Plo gave it even odds if the youngling even knew he was speaking aloud. The little one was crying in Ben’s arms, weeping as if half his heart had been ripped out and then returned.

The rest of the brothers immediately crowded around as Ben ran his hands through Waxer’s short trimmed hair and whispered words of comfort. There wasn’t a hint of the normal thrumming in the Force that had thus far accompanied the _vod’e_. Nothing escaped Ben’s mildly terrifying defenses. 

Plo shared a glance with the _Mand'alor_. He and Jango had been watching quietly, and now both of them felt as if they wanted nothing more than to join their family in the hug. It was a private moment, though. That was clear to them all. 

Because of the private nature of the scene before him, Plo did not even attempt to discern what Ben was saying, or what the other _vod’e_ added. He did keep a careful watch in the Force to make sure that Ben would not be overwhelmed. Unsurprisingly, his caution was unneeded.

It took several minutes for the group to calm. Then Ben looked up at the _Mand'alor_ with frightening determination.

“They're on Concordia, _buir_. I can feel them. Ignore whatever other nonsense and lies you get out of the captured _verd'e_. They're together, and they're hurt, but it's not serious… well, not yet.”

The _Mand'alor_ ’s expression turned cold and deadly. Jango was less controlled. He swore with such creativity that Plo almost wished he was taking notes. 

_Ah, warriors_ , Plo thought with amusement. For all that the Jedi liked to think they maintained an endless wellspring of calm, knights and even masters indulged in a bit of swearing from time to time. It was a healthy outlet. 

Plo would have to tuck these expressions away for later. Possibly share them with a few interested colleagues. 

“There are rumours of a work camp hidden in one of the mines, there,” Jango explained, once he’d wound down a little. "One of the captured Death Watch hinted that it might be true."

A work camp! For _children?!_

Plo released his upset to the Force as he shifted in agitation. The _Mand'alor_ looked downright murderous. 

“Those rumours might be true for the moment, but I will see to it that they are not for much longer,” Ben said firmly. There was something knowing in his eyes. Plo had no doubt that Ben knew exactly what he was promising and he knew exactly how to deal with it.

“Such an abomination cannot be allowed to stand,” Plo agreed promptly. 

Children. In _labor camps_. The idea disgusted him. 

The lack of proper shielding must have been more of a strain on Ben than Plo had anticipated, because now that the feedback from the bonds was set to rights, Ben blazed with certainty. There was an utter confidence about him that was moving. Inspirational, even.

‘General’, the children had called him. Plo could see it now. This was a being who could lead armies, and it was glaringly obvious that he would always lead from the front. 

The _vod’e_ visibly settled themselves for such a charge despite the fact that they were all on the floor in a sitting room in the palace and not already on the battlefield. Plo didn’t need to feel them in the Force to know that the entire group was prepared to storm Mandalore’s moon right now. 

“We're right behind you, sir. We'll get them back,” Helix said, clearly speaking for them all. The little warriors didn’t salute, but they might as well have. 

Plo glanced to the _Mand'alor_ to gauge his reaction. He was starting to look as alarmed as Plo felt. Because Plo was very certain that if not distracted, Ben and his brothers would find a ship _immediately_ and go track down their missing siblings, with or without help.

The more surprising thing was the thought that they might not actually _need_ the help.

Plo shook his head. No. These were still children. Children who’d had a long day at the end of a long week. Even if Ben was ready to carve a hole into Mandalore’s moon, he’d still had a violent Force vision earlier in the day. They might look like they were all ready to go right this moment, and they might actually succeed in their designs, but it would not be sane or healthy for them.

More to the point, there was no need to go rushing off right this instant. Not when the immediate risk was low and everyone could use a short respite before heading out.

“We can begin in the morning, once all of our forces are rested and prepared for the coming mission,” Plo said firmly. 

All signs pointed towards Ben being mature and reasonable. Chances were good that he would pay attention to the needs of his men if not his own. 

“In the meantime,” Plo added, standing up and settling himself on one of the couches in the room. “I would like to hear why you call me ‘General _Buir_ '.”

“An excellent question,” the _Mand'alor_ said. He raised a pointed eyebrow at his children and eased back into a more relaxed pose in his chair. 

The _vod’e_ actually giggled. Ben helped Waxer stand up and the two of them sat on a couch with Waxer nearly plastered to Ben’s side. The rest of the younglings filled in the space around them, perching nearby wherever there was room.

“Our _vod’e_ first started to use the name,” Cody said. He’d taken the spot on the opposite side of Ben from Waxer, though he wasn’t clinging quite so possessively. 

Wooley nodded as he set his helm down next to him. “It fit, so the rest of us picked it up, too. It wasn’t a public thing, not for a long time. Names are touchy like that.”

More nods from the younglings. 

Plo resisted the urge to interrupt and question why names weren’t a public thing. 

“Once you heard about it, you adopted the Wolfpack on the spot,” Boil said. He was perched on the arm of the couch, leaning into Waxer’s side. 

A glance towards the _Mand'alor_ told him that he didn’t have much more of an idea of what they were talking about than Plo did.

Ben just looked amused. “How much did Master Dooku tell you about us, and where we came from?”

“Very little,” Plo admitted with an irritated tap of his claws. “But what he eventually shared I found… somewhat unbelievable.”

Jango snorted, likely at the understatement. 

Ben just nodded knowingly. “Time travel and de-aging. Decades in the future, I am, or was, a general in a galaxy wide war. These _vod’e_ are my men. Or at least a few of them, anyways. You were, are, a general as well, and the _vod’e_ assigned to you called themselves the Wolfpack.”

It did make a terrible kind of sense. 

Ben and his brothers didn’t act like children at all. Right up until they did. Plo had not forgotten their innocent excitement at the training games in the yard, or the untarnished love and welcome directed towards him. 

“The evidence is compelling,” Plo admitted. He folded his claws together and thought about all that Master Dooku had supposed to him. “Wolfpack, you say… And they called me ‘General _Buir_ '?”

“Yeah,” Cody said with a grin. “You earned the name, and every _vod_ in the GAR knew it.”

Perhaps Ben could sense his confusion, because he asked, “Are you familiar with Mando’a?”

Plo shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance yet to learn the language. Though that may change in the near future.”

“ _Buir_ means ‘parent’. They were calling you General Father,” Ben said with a poorly suppressed smile.

Plo blinked in shock. 

“You even painted your own armor with their markings,” Cody added. He pointed to his own _beskar’gam_. “A _vod_ ’s armor is a very personal thing. We are assigned no names, no marks of individuality. It was... discouraged.” The way he said that word made the Force shiver unpleasantly. “Then the Jedi showed up to claim us and suddenly we could expect to be addressed by something other than a serial number by non- _vod'e_. We paint our armor differently because we all share the same face. It’s who we are. And you took on the Wolfpack’s marks as your own.”

Force. Serial numbers? Sharing the same face? 

The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. 

“Clones. You are all clones,” he said quietly. His stomach churned. “Clones that the Jedi claimed? To use as _soldiers?!_ ”

He felt sick. Like his ventilator had been ripped off of his face and poisonous oxygen and nitrogen were burning away his lungs. 

All the _vod’e_ nodded.

“ _Vod’e_ means ‘siblings’,” Ben explained. “They are all brothers. You treated them as your own children, and they named you their parent. Or at least, your battalion did.”

“We’re yours, General,” Cody said affectionately, with a gentle elbow to Ben’s side. “Though you’re more like a fellow _vod_ than anything else.”

“You’re too karking crazy to be anything else,” Helix said sourly. “The trainers didn’t tell us that all the _jetiise_ were absolutely batshit. And you and your former padawan are the kriffing worst.”

Before Plo could even process the fact that they were claiming Ben had already trained a padawan of his own, the conversation was already moving along.

Ben’s face stretched into a satisfying smile, like a shriek-hawk with a fresh kill. “We simply solved dangerous problems in unconventional ways.” 

Something about his expression let Plo know that Ben was deliberately trying to tease his men. From their unimpressed looks, they damn well knew it.

“You’re a Force blessed terror, is what you are.” Cody glared at him. Then he turned his flat look on Plo. “Ghost Company had to learn how to keep up with this lunatic, so we’re… specialized.”

Ben waved a dismissive hand at him. “The 501st is worse. They haven’t met anything that they didn’t want to blow up.”

“Yeah, and that just proves that the 212th is better,” Cody countered. “We _plan_.”

“Really,” the _Mand'alor_ said, disbelief making his voice flat. “Planning? You all?”

“To an extent,” Ben said blithely. 

The banter flowed easily around them, and a sense of relief was strong in the Force. If they truly were displaced in time, lost from their fellow soldiers, their family, then just being able to talk about them with someone who would believe them would be a very particular kind of solace. 

Nor did Plo miss the implication that if these _vod’e_ all had weak bonds with each other, that implied that they might have had more with the rest of their brothers. Waxer’s distress was fresh in his mind. He couldn’t imagine that on a grand scale. They were an army at war. What happened when they took heavy losses?

It made Plo’s heart ache to think of it. 

He could easily see himself taking in a group of such soldiers and treating them with care and concern. Too easily.

Plo held onto his head and took a measured breath out. “I… do not want to believe it.”

Some of the lighthearted amusement in the air left.

“Because believing it means terrible things,” Ben finished somberly. 

“Yes.”

A silence settled over the room.

“I could show you?” Ben offered. “I could share the memory of how we came to be here, if that would help.”

Plo folded his hands and considered the offer. After what he’d just seen and felt during the shielding process, there could be no doubt that Ben was deeply connected to the Light side of the Force. There was no hint of lie about him, not in his words or his thoughts. Nor was there any such darkness around the _vod’e_ , either. 

He found he couldn’t believe that this was an elaborate falsehood. What purpose would it serve? Perhaps if Ben had insisted on coming back to the Temple, or even maintaining any kind of affiliation with the Jedi Order, one might theorize that he was a sleeper agent sent to infiltrate. Without a proper mental investigation there was no way to be sure. 

But Ben had done none of those things. Instead, he and his men had immediately embroiled themselves in a local civil war for an Outer Rim sector that had never been part of the Republic, backing a king that had very vocally declared himself against conquest. Plo could see very little gain from it, if disruption of the Republic or the Jedi Order as a whole were the intended goals. 

Plo had heard from Mace how Ben had very neatly bullied both the Jedi and the Mandalorians into working together. It was an impressive bit of negotiation, and all the more so for a child. Mace’s disgruntlement at the situation had been more than a little amusing. 

So with the younglings posing no visible threat that Plo could see, he couldn’t justify digging through Ben’s mind for answers.

He did want to know. But given the current situation, right now might not be the most prudent time to delve into it.

 _We must always be mindful of the present_ , he thought. Ben was offering to share some of his memories. That was important and Plo would take him up on that offer. 

Another day.

Right now, they needed to rest and prepare for tomorrow’s battle. Another draining session with the Force for a non-critical inquiry would be ill advised. 

“I will take you up on your offer,” Plo said, “but not tonight.” He gave Ben a stern look. “You and your men must eat and rest, and I must see to the knights.”

Ben looked a trifle disappointed, but the _Mand'alor_ looked relieved.

“Also,” Plo said, raising a hand to forestall the inevitable goodnights. “I must ask you to attempt to keep the strange nature of your experience to yourselves. I am bound by my oaths to the Jedi High Council and must answer any questions that they pose on this matter, and Masters Jinn and Dooku are aware of your origins, as is whoever else you have told here. But were it to become common knowledge, you could find yourselves targets of a great many dangerous people, and for more reasons than you might know.”

Ben nodded. He felt tired to Plo’s senses. “I am aware, Master Plo. But I thank you for your guidance anyways.”

“It is always available to you, youngling,” Plo said with an almost-bow. “You are not alone.”

Ben’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes grew just a touch wider. It took him a moment to speak again, though when he did the words were admirably steady. “Thank you, Master Plo.” He returned the almost-bow.

That reaction was alarming. Plo’s offer should not have been an unusual one. Certainly not something that would inspire such heartfelt appreciation.

Perhaps Master Dooku was right. Someone had convinced this youngling that he could rely on no one, including other Jedi. Not even a High Councilor. 

Plo did not like that _at all_.

He stood up and bowed to them all.

“It has been a pleasure,” he said. “Master Ben, I encourage you and your _vod’e_ to eat well before sleeping tonight. A warm meal will do you wonders, and tomorrow our heavy work begins. _Mand'alor_.” He nodded in respect to the king, and then saw himself out.

Though he knew that he should see to his own dinner and rest, all he really wanted to do was sink into meditation. He had a great deal to think about tonight. 

\--

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

Settling into their nest that evening had been such a strange experience. All of his _Vod'e_ had felt a mix of anticipation, bone-deep relief, and a need to get Crys and Longshot back home strong enough that it had almost overshadowed everything else.

Waxer, for all that he'd felt tired enough to sleep for a week, had found himself staring at the ceiling, wide awake, thinking.

Getting to see and hug General _Buir_ had been a great start to the visit. He and his _riduur_ had reveled in it, and the feeling of _home_ had only gotten all the more intense when the rest of their _Vod'e_ had joined in, but the best part had been having General Kenobi join them, as well. Force, but he'd thought the evening couldn't get any better.

He'd been wrong.

General Plo had told General Kenobi he could help, and then he'd shown off the trick their General wanted to learn. They'd settled into a meditation -- Waxer had felt them do it through his bond with the General -- and then, a few minutes later, Waxer had felt more shields come down around him and his _Vod'e_. They'd had a different 'flavour', from the General's. A different feel. Master Plo's work, clearly.

It had been unnerving; he'd lost all contact with the General again, and after the events of the last few rotations, that had been difficult to bear. The network had rallied around him, though, shoring him up and keeping him steady.

After what had felt like _hours_ , he'd felt the shields around Kenobi _shift._

That had been weird, but good. Sure, he'd suddenly been able to feel the rest of his _Vod'e_ less clearly, but they had still been there. And he'd been able to feel Crys and Longshot again!

The two missing _Vod'e_ had been weak flickers in his awareness and he hadn't been able to grab hold of them long enough to get more from them than a sense of _we're alive, we're here_.

He'd had to close his eyes and swallow hard against the way that had made his throat close.

What had happened next had jerked his tears loose. The shields Master Plo had been holding had abruptly vanished, leaving the General shining like a karking star in their network, the shields between him and Waxer thinner than they'd ever been, save in the very first minutes they'd had their bond. 

Without consciously deciding to do it, he'd found himself wrapped around his General a moment later, in much the same way he had been hugging General Koon.

Kenobi wasn't shielding him out completely anymore.

He _had his General back_.

Kenobi had gently soothed him back down, his voice sounding a bit shaky as the flood of emotion Waxer was feeding into the network half-overwhelmed him, and the rest of the _Vod'e_ had crowded in close. _Shh, I'm here, Vod, I never left. Easy, Waxer, it's alright._

General Koon had watched them carefully, and Waxer had been almost sure he would intervene, to stabilise them.

But no. His General had managed it himself. The words had helped; hearing his General, _feeling him_ , had helped, and his sheer overjoyed relief had soon subsided into quiet hiccuping sobs of breath that had caught in his throat every so often.

Kenobi had looked up at their _buir_ , once they'd all calmed a little, then, seemingly effortlessly, done what they'd been attempting to do for the last week and a half: he'd pinpointed the location of their missing _Vod'e_.

Apparently, Crys and Longshot were on Mandalore's moon, Concordia, and not too badly injured. But that was where the good news had ended. Jango had sworn at length, with a vehemence that would have done any _Vod_ proud, not stopping until he'd run out of curses to heap on the Death Watch.

That was a reaction that would have worried Waxer and all of his _Vod'e_ , in and of itself, but hearing that his _Vod'e_ were being held in a karking _labour camp_. That had very nearly made all of his relief at having Kenobi back in the network turn right into fury.

Waxer smiled, remembering how both his General and General Buir had gone stiff and angry, themselves. Their next words rang in the silence of Waxer's mind like they'd just been uttered and still hung in the air.

 _Those rumours might be true for the moment, but I will see to it that they are not for much longer,_ Kenobi had said, the words audibly a solemn vow. No force in the galaxy would stop him from seeing his promise through.

 _Such an abomination cannot be allowed to stand,_ General Koon had concurred, fully in agreement.

In his bond with the General, all Waxer had been able to feel in that moment was protectiveness and something that bordered on fury and sheer durasteel determination.

That was his General, the very core of him, coming out from under the pall of worry that he'd been shrouded in, recently. That was their Jedi Master, their High General. That was their Leader of the Third Systems Army, their Master of Soresu. That was their General, the one _jetii_ \-- besides General Skywalker and perhaps Commander Tano -- who stubbornly refused to believe he was not fully able to campaign for as long as it would take to reach his goal without needing to rest on occasion.

It had been so long since he'd seen that aspect of Kenobi truly come out, that Waxer had been caught off guard by just how much it had settled him to see and feel it happen. 

Commander Cody had seen it, too, and automatically straightened to attention at the fire that had suddenly blazed in Kenobi's eyes once again. The rest of the _Vod'e_ had been a mere half-second behind the Commander. _We're right behind you, sir,_ Helix had said seriously. _We'll get them back._

General Koon, who wasn't as used to that side of Kenobi, had seemed fascinated by the change in their General and the _Vod'e_. The sheer confidence must have taken him off guard, Waxer thought with an amused smirk. General _Buir_ had just seen them go from a group of worried brothers who'd felt a bit helpless in the face of a challenge they weren't sure how to meet to their more characteristic battle-readiness.

Their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ had both looked slightly alarmed.

Then, with a nod, General Koon had de-escalated the whole situation effortlessly, asking about the title 'General _Buir_ ' again, insisting that they explain it to him, just as he'd warned them he would. 

With a smile on his face for the way that discussion had gone, Waxer closed his eyes. Not everything was right with the galaxy. Not by a long kriffing way. But he had gotten the core of his General back, his bond with his General was open enough that he could feel Kenobi again, and they knew where their missing _Vod'e_ were likely to be.

 _Hang on, Vod'e, we're coming,_ he tried to tell them, and imagined he got a flicker of relief in response.

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

His four _Vod'e_ had stayed clustered around him and their General, trying to sleep and failing, for the first hour or so they spent in their nest. One by one, they'd dropped off, until Cody had been the only one awake, lost in his restless thoughts.

Until the events of the last two weeks had shown him just how much more there was to it, he'd really only been aware of that place in his consciousness that his _Vod'e_ occupied as a kind of warmth. One that he'd missed keenly enough when he'd lost his last squadmates to leave him spiraling out of control. And then it had become an unrelenting ache that never really went away even after Helix, Rex, and Wolffe had somewhat forcibly attached themselves to him.

Once he'd been assigned to General Kenobi, put in charge of the 7th Sky Corps with his favoured 212th Attack Battalion faithfully at his back, that ache had eased further, so gradually that he'd barely realised it was even happening.

When he had, he'd assumed it was just the passage of time, dulling the ache of his memories.

Only after landing in the past with his General and six _Vod'e_ did he come to realise that he'd gotten peripherally attached to many more of them than he'd ever have thought possible. Suddenly not being able to feel his Battalion at his back, with that awareness he'd always thought was simply a manifestation of their training… That had been jarring.

It had gotten a bit lost under the weight and urgency of all the other sudden changes to their tactical situation that had been more important to their survival right then, but in the last eight rotations, his attention had been very firmly dragged to the fact that three of his remaining _Vod'e_ had somehow Force bonded to his General, and that they were very definitely able to influence each other strongly.

He'd finally clued in to the fact that the aching emptiness he'd felt when his squad had been taken from him, that the way he'd rapidly spiraled out of control, _unstable_ , hadn't been strictly his fault, the way he'd thought at the time. He'd clued in to the fact that it hadn't just been his squad that had been ripped from him, but his entire network of latent Force bonds.

When they'd landed in the past, he'd apparently lost contact with all of his closely bonded _Vod'e_ except Helix. Though, now that he thought about it, that was bizarre, because it didn't feel like they were dead. Just… unconscious, maybe? He could tell that his network, small as it was, was intact. His bonds with Rex and Wolffe hadn't broken. It made no kriffing sense to him. But then, he acknowledged, he was no _jetii_. He had no idea how these Force bonds worked. Or didn't.

He might have to make time to ask the General about that, before he finally got this chip removed. Once that thing was finally _gone_ , the odds were good that he'd end up in a position similar to Waxer's, if he wasn't careful.

He wasn't sure whether that would be a good thing or not. Being bonded directly to both the General and to their medic, who were often arguing… Cody almost wanted to wince.

And, seeing just what simply having their bond _shielded_ had done to Waxer when they'd first established it -- Cody did wince, remembering the scene -- seeing that and _feeling it happen_ had been eye-opening. The mental state their _Vod_ had suddenly landed in had triggered all kinds of switches in him and in Helix. Memories and a kind of mental screech of _danger to squadmate_ that had made Cody's teeth stand on end.

That had been the kind of internal alarm all _Vod'e_ knew only too well. The one they only felt when a kriffing _suicide watch_ needed to be hastily organised.

Cody swallowed hard, shoving the memory of his own personal brush with that state of mind back away, and let himself pull his General a little closer in the darkness of their room and the security of their nest.

When Waxer had all but lost his grip in the infirmary, a few hours later, and the General himself had literally _fallen unconscious from the strain of the day_ it had been _incredibly_ difficult to keep his cool.

Only the sure knowledge that Waxer, Crys, Longshot _and General Kenobi_ had needed someone to keep a lid on the whole utterly kriffed up situation had let him keep his own control in that moment.

"Cody?" Kenobi asked softly, his voice sleep-hoarse. "You alright?"

Letting most of the thoughts and worries go again, Cody nodded and tucked his nose into the soft coppery hair at the nape of Kenobi's neck. "I'm fine. Just… couldn't help… remembering," he answered, voice just as quiet. "Go back to sleep, General."

"Oh no, I'm not about to ignore this," the stubborn karking idiot retorted, keeping his voice low out of consideration for the sleeping _Vod'e_ all around them, shifting in Cody's arms until they were face-to-face and bringing his hands up to bury them in Cody's now too-long hair. "You have been worried and stressed about something other than our tactical situation and shoving it aside for weeks, now. What's bothering you?"

There was no way he could outright tell Kenobi what he wanted to know. Attachment was against the Jedi code, and they'd just recently seen several good reasons why that was. He couldn't in good conscience tell his General that the lingering worries about the chips in their heads had him on edge and distract the _jetii_ from the upcoming ground campaign. He couldn't say that he was kriffing _jealous_ that he didn't have his own bond with Kenobi. He couldn't unburden himself about the way he missed Rex and Wolffe, or the way his plan to strengthen his ties to the men that had ended up in the past with him had gone so badly sideways. He couldn't voice his worries about Jinn, or that padawan of his… or Master Dooku. Or his concern for Kenobi himself.

Cody hesitated.

"Wondering what will happen to this timeline when we go back to ours," he offered. A truth, but not one that was a true answer to Kenobi's question.

His General watched him shrewdly for a moment, knowing, and Cody was sure Kenobi had seen right through the evasion. Gentle fingers traced over the skin where his scar should have been, and Cody felt his eyes close involuntarily. Force, that felt so nice.

"I really couldn't tell you," Kenobi answered, keeping up the soothing touches. "Now, sleep. You'll need to be alert and rested come morning. And when you're ready to talk about whatever's bothering you… I'll be here."


	20. Chapter 20

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

It had taken him a while to get back to sleep himself, after Cody's worrying had woken him.

Ben had carefully soothed his Commander into a calm enough state of mind to get him to rest, but he'd gotten caught up wondering just what had been running through Cody's mind.

It had been obvious that what Cody had said was keeping him awake had been a white lie. A deft evasion. Ben was pretty kriffing sure that, despite what Cody had said, the single biggest worry on his Commander's mind had been Crys and Longshot.

Before he'd fallen asleep, Ben had heard Helix muttering about restocking his field kit, and Wooley -- who'd apparently already decided he'd accept Ardanna's spur of the moment offer to apprentice one of them and was going to start spending more time in the armoury with her once this campaign against the Death Watch had been dealt with -- had spent some fifteen minutes carefully checking over the armour Ardanna and Mira had cheerfully helped him repair over the course of the last eight rotations.

All five of the _Vod'e_ at his side were very much focused on their objective, right now: the retrieval of their missing brothers.

 _And woe betide anyone that gets in their way,_ Ben thought with a fond shake of his head. The _Vod'e_ were fierce as any swarm of venomous stinging insects when their protective instincts were roused, and any threat to those they considered 'theirs' would subsequently be dealt with -- with explosions and extreme prejudice, if they felt it was needful.

That sort of reaction to a threat went counter to everything he'd been taught as a Jedi, but Ben found he couldn't help himself; he _agreed with them_. 

Yet, for all that he'd always been told that such impulses led to the Dark Side, his _Vod'e_ continued to shine brightly in the Force, as they always had.

Perhaps it had something to do with the way Cody had been able to abruptly shunt all of those emotions aside, when he'd fallen into his tactical mindset. Ben had felt the way his Commander had almost immediately gone from a stinging ball of anger to a calm, calculating sort of steely sharp-edged focus and determination that had reminded Ben of one of Helix's scalpels.

It was something he would have to meditate on.

For the moment, Ben made himself shut his eyes and breathe in the mix of calm readiness and anticipation his _Vod'e_ felt, even in their sleep, and did his best to clear his mind. Master Plo and their _buir_ had been exactly right; he needed to get some rest himself before he jumped into planning this assault.

He woke with a groan, shortly before the room brightened with the light of Mandalore's sun, as it filtered through the biodome.

Cody, still wrapped around him, made an amused sound. "Slept well, General?"

Waxer snorted. "If I don't get to make that sort of comment before caf, neither do you, Commander," he said, pulling Boil to his feet.

Boil wrapped himself around his _riduur_ with a protesting whine, and muttered something indistinct.

Wooley and Helix, Ben realised, were already in the 'fresher. He could hear the water running, now that he was a bit more aware.

Sitting up and stretching, Ben scrubbed at his face with his hands, in the hopes of waking himself further. He'd slept, but it had clearly not been overly restful, judging by the grit in his eyes and the sluggish way his brain was coming online.

"I'll make the comments I want to make," Cody retorted at length, stifling a yawn, then stood and padded into their dining area without another word.

Waxer and Boil watched him go, then shrugged. "Perks of being the Commander," Boil muttered.

Waxer rearranged them so that their foreheads were touching, leaving them sharing air in an almost-kiss. "We don't have to make comments, _riduur_ ," he pointed out. "We're not pining."

Ben gave them a quelling look. Neither he nor Cody was _pining_. "You two need to make some caf," he said, "you're seeing things that aren't there."

Both of them laughed, then followed Cody out of the room. "Caf sounds like a great idea, General," Boil quipped as he went. "You should join us. It might wake you up enough that you'd realise what you're doing is pining."

Carefully getting to his feet and picking his way delicately out of the nest of blankets, Ben ignored them. They had no idea what they were talking about.

But, even _if_ Cody returned the interest, as everyone around them seemed to think he did, Ben couldn't and, more importantly, _wouldn't_ do anything about it. It would be taking advantage, and he refused to do that. Not only were they General and Clone Commander, but right now they were both underage.

Shaking his head to clear it -- he could worry about this much later, if he bothered at all -- Ben gathered up his armour and body stocking and made his way to one of the two 'freshers to wait for his turn. 

Twenty minutes later, cleaner and more alert, he was in the dining area, watching Wooley and Helix sip their caf and pick at some fruit they'd found in the crisper.

"That's all you're eating?" Ben asked them, well aware of what their appetites were like.

"This is dessert," Helix told him. "We ate while you were in the 'fresher."

Ben eyed the conspicuous lack of used dishes and then looked back at them. "And you got all the plates washed and put away, too?"

Helix caught and held his eyes, his stare laser focused. Daring him to continue that line of questioning.

Sure he was right, Ben stared back long enough to make his point, then moved to find a meal of his own. By the time he'd found something suitable and made sure there'd be enough for the other three _Vod'e_ , the trio had joined them.

"Any news?" Cody asked Wooley.

" _Buir_ and _ori'vod_ stopped by while you four were cleaning yourselves up," Wooley answered. "They said we should stay put for the time being. _Buir_ is gonna try to convince the council and the _jetiise_ to let us -- or the General, at least -- join in the planning."

"Think he'll succeed?" Waxer asked the obvious question.

Helix shrugged. "Hard to say. The council isn't too trusting of _jetiise_ in general, right now. Not after what Jinn pulled. But the fact that the General is _mando'ad_ should help. And that he managed to use his bonds with Crys and Longshot to locate them will hopefully convince the council to allow it. If not, I don't think he has a good chance."

"That... is probably a pretty accurate assessment," Waxer said with a sigh. "Bets on who they'll send, if _buir_ does convince them?"

Boil snorted. "That's a sucker bet. They won't. Jango will just comm him."

Those of them who hadn't yet finished eating nodded. Helix and Wooley exchanged a look.

"Boil's probably right," Cody said, and got up to pour himself another mug of caf.

As he set the carafe back down, their door chimed. 

Ben pushed back his empty plate and stood, but Helix got there first, shoving some fruit into his hands and pushing past him to get to the suite's door. Ben looked down at it blankly for a moment, and Boil laughed at him. "Eat it, General," he suggested.

" _Buir_!" Helix sounded surprised. "I thought you were already with the council."

The _Mand'alor_ snorted. "Not just yet, _ad'ika_. You're awake early. Have you already eaten?"

Ben took the opportunity to put his plate and utensils away, before he made his way out of the dining area to join them. The rest of his _Vod'e_ followed suit.

Their _buir_ looked over when they appeared, counting heads and nodding. "Good, you're all here. Ben, you'll be coming with me to the council chambers, if you're through with your meal. Only Master Dooku will be joining us for the planning session, and I have no doubt we'll find that _jetii_ liaison lurking in the corridors near the council chambers, if he's at all interested in giving his input on the logistics."

Ben nodded. "I suspect you're right, _buir_. No doubt Master Plo told him of our suspicions regarding the work camp."

With a nod, the _Mand'alor_ added. "The rest of you will be assigned to keep an eye on the _jetiise_ , with Jango. Take them to the gardens and let them meditate or whatever it is they do with their spare time."

Helix snorted. "We can do that."

Cody shook his head, "I'm going with you and the General, _buir_ ," he disagreed. "Waxer? You've got the lead on dealing with Jinn and the rest of the _jetiise_."

Boil grinned. "We get to see Master Plo again. I'm pretty sure we're getting the better end of the deal."

Their _buir_ eyed Cody for a moment, then shrugged. "If the council kicks you back out, _ad'ika_ , I won't be able to do much about it. I specifically argued that Ben should be in the room, and it took a while to convince them to allow it. _Haat Mando'ad'e_ are not comfortable with letting their _ad'ike_ anywhere near a fight before they're of age, and the New Mandalorians are even stricter on the matter."

Cody nodded. "I'll take the risk, _buir_. You may need my tactical experience. The General is good, but he's used to thinking in terms of single Force sensitive fighters, or pairs. I know group tactics."

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Jaster couldn’t tell if he was pleased or worried about the council meeting. 

On the one hand, Ben had _somehow_ managed to get some information on where Crys and Longshot were. Some magical Force kark. That meant they could actually make a plan and go find their missing _aliit_ , and maybe get rid of some Death Watch along the way.

On the other hand, the council was well and truly sick of _jetiise_ in the council meetings and even less excited about allowing Jaster’s _ad’e_ to take part in a war council. 

Jaster was only slightly more accepting of it. He just knew Ben and Cody well enough to know it wasn’t worth trying to get them not to come. 

It was pretty hilarious to see both Ben and Cody straining to see over the planning table, though. The massive thing had been dragged in, along with a holo projector, so that maps could be laid out and tactics discussed. Normally, Jaster would have done this with just his _verd’e_ , but there were also the _jetiise_ to consider, and the politics of where they would be attacking. The New Mandalorians also were keen to know everything Ben could tell them about the Death Watch’s location. They clearly hoped to catch Pre Vizsla in a web of lies. Jaster didn’t think it would work. Pre was too clever by half. 

A holo of Concordia was projected up out of the middle of the table, spinning slowly around. There were several screens and data pads strewn across the rest of the space. It had taken them all a few minutes to get everything set up and everyone briefed on the current situation, outside of what Ben had discovered last night, anyways.

Ben had a small wrinkle right in between his eyebrows from where he was trying not to scowl at the length of the table. Cody looked more resigned to the situation. Their irritation had not gone unnoticed. Several of the _Haat Mando'ad'e_ were watching the struggle with thinly veiled amusement. 

“Oh kriff it,” Ben finally said. And then he stepped up. Onto _nothing_. “Cody?” he said, holding out a hand to his commander as if he was asking for a waltz.

“Thank you, General,” Cody said crisply. He easily set his hand in Ben’s, and then stepped up as well. The two of them visibly relaxed as they finally got a good look at the full length of the table.

Jaster stared at them, feeling a little nonplussed. He was not the only one. 

“... A curious use of the Force, youngling,” Master Dooku said. Apparently, he was the only one willing to call them out on it. 

“Slightly more dignified than standing on a box at least,” Ben answered wryly. 

“We should have thought of that before,” Cody said blandly. “Box would have been easy to come by on campaigns. You are the runt of the litter, General, Sir.”

Kriff, the burn! Jaster had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Ben cast him an absolutely withering look. “Our sample population was biased. All the _Vod’e_ are the same height, and Anakin is freakishly tall. I am a perfectly reasonable size.”

“Of course, sir,” Cody said, dry as desert dirt.

Jaster coughed to try and cover up the chuckles. Chieftain Razi didn’t bother; he just straight out cackled.

“You’ll grow into it, _verd'ika_ ,” Razi said, thumping the table with his gauntlet. 

Ben said, “No, I won’t,” at the exact same moment that Cody said, “No, he won’t.” 

Several of the _Haat Mando’ad_ chieftains grinned. Fewer New Mandalorians smiled. They were more irritated at the reminders of how young Ben and Cody were. 

Time to change the subject. 

“Ben, what can you tell us about the situation your _vod'e _are in?” Jaster asked.__

____

____

Ben closed his eyes and did... _something_. Whatever it was, it made Master Dooku lean in and look very intently at him.

“Crys and Longshot are both alive, both are injured, though not seriously, and both are in a _beskar_ mine...”

“Are we seriously going to listen to a child babble nonsense from a ‘vision’?” Chieftain Cadis asked. He was one of the New Mandalorian councilors, an older man who was one of Jaster’s biggest detractors. His clan had abandoned the _Resol’nare_ generations ago.

“The mere fact that you are too obtuse to see that which is all around us does not mean the rest of us are so incapable,” Master Dooku said scathingly. He’d drawn himself up to his full height and looked down his sharp nose at Cadis, as if it was Dooku who was the _Mand'alor_ here and not Jaster. “One would _think_ that the evidence of your eyes would be enough to tell you that.” He gestured towards where Ben and Cody still stood on nothing.

Damn, but the man’s hauteur was impressive. And surprising. Master Dooku had shown very little of that to Jaster or his _ad’e_. Not since their first encounter on Korda VI, anyways.

“Master Dooku,” Ben said with quiet admonishment. “Suspicion is not unusual, or even uncalled for in many circumstances.” Then he smiled. “And, after all, we are all here as a courtesy toward one another.”

“You’re here because the _Mand'alor_ has a soft spot for his _ad’e_ ,” Chieftain Cadis said with a sneer.

“He’s here because he has valuable information and expertise,” Jaster said. He raised his hand to stall any additional complaints about Ben’s experience. “No, I don’t like it that he is already combat tested, and I would keep him out of the fighting here, as well, but he’s already proven that he and his _Vod’e_ are more than adept at the art of strategy. He is here to advise us. Nothing says we have to agree with everything he says.”

“With respect, _buir_ ,” Ben said with a small deferential bow. “My _vod’e_ and I will be going to Concordia to save our missing men regardless. We can either pool our resources and work together for greater success, or you can try your luck on your own. I can guarantee you, I will recover my people, with or without aid.”

“You’re mad,” Chieftain Adonai said flatly. “You and your five other _ten year old brothers_ are going to fly to Concordia and take out a Death Watch encampment _by yourselves_.”

“Obviously,” Ben said with a charming smile. “We’ve done worse with less. Much less. While I would prefer to have my _buir_ ’s approval and it would be useful to have more blasters and ‘sabres on my side, it certainly isn’t the only path to success.” 

Cody smirked at them, confident and pleased. Jaster had seen pirates and lifelong mercenaries who’d had less frightening smiles.

“Ghost Company always wins the day,” Cody said.

“No matter the opposition,” Ben added. He swept his gaze around the room. His demeanor was calm, but the point he was making was obvious. He turned to look at Jaster. “I _will_ be rescuing my men, _buir_. Now, do you want to hear about the labor camp?”

Jaster took a breath. He knew damn well how skilled Ben was, and that this likely wouldn’t be anything new for the little general or his troops. Hells, at this point, his council should know how skilled Ben was, too. They’d all watched the damn sparring, and the holos of it were still being avidly swapped around the barracks. 

It rankled something fierce to let children go into combat, though. Surprise attacks were one thing. No one expected the bombings, and Ben and his _vod’e_ had jumped in where they were needed. But this was a planned combat. They were deliberately choosing to put children’s lives in danger. 

He sighed.

“Tell me about the labor camp, _ad_ ,” he said with a resigned wave towards the map.

Ben nodded. 

“Right now we have older maps of several of the main mining encampments in the region I’ve pinpointed that they are in,” he said. With a gesture, he brought up the schematics on the holo projector. “Neither Crys nor Longshot know which one they are at. Once we get planetside, I’ll be able to direct you right towards them.”

Without even a glance, the verbal ball was tossed to Cody. Jaster had seen this in action before, but it was still impressive how well the two worked together.

The fact that they were still holding hands added a strangely jarring visual to the whole thing. 

“You’ll notice that the encampments all have similarities,” Cody said. “We can assume that the lower levels have been modified. Death Watch has been using the space; they’ll have made more tunnels.”

“The main floors should be the same, though,” Ben picked up the thread seamlessly. “See, here are the entrances. This will be where excess laborers are held. Crys and Longshot haven’t been above ground since they were dropped off at their location. There are others with them; some are of age, but there are also children among them, I’m sorry to say.” He cast a sympathetic look around the room. “These are air vents; we can’t close them if we want the prisoners to live. Death Watch will likely have environmental seals on their armor. Or they should, anyways. These dead ends are for waste. We need to be extremely cautious about using any kind of explosive in the tunnels; gasses can build up and generate flammable mixtures that could set entire areas aflame.”

“Did you study these maps?” Chieftain Razi asked.

“I glanced at them, yes, but most of my information comes from experience,” Ben said absently, still glaring at the map.

“When were you in a mine last, _ad_?” Jaster was almost afraid to ask.

“The first time I was enslaved, it was in a mining facility,” Ben said easily. He seemed to notice the horrified silence that followed that statement, because he looked up with eyebrows raised. Understanding dawned, and he waved a hand at them. “It was fine, it was only for a few weeks.” He paused and frowned. “Probably closer to a few months, actually. Still. A short stint, and not as bad as it could have been.”

“Oh?” Yan asked, with frosty unhappiness. It was clear that Ben wasn’t the focus of his ire, though.

Ben actually laughed. “They could have been into little boys. This was just before I was made a padawan.”

Jaster was going to be sick. 

“Kriffing hells,” one of the councilors muttered.

Cody looked stoic as ever, but he was watching Ben with unusual intensity. Jaster got the distinct impression that this was all news to him, too.

Ben ignored them all. “So these tunnels are going to be the easiest way to access the laborer’s pens. They have shifts working all rotation, so there won’t be a significant advantage from a night time attack. On the very bright side, Crys and Longshot don’t have bomb collars on, and I don’t think anyone else there does, either.”

“Bomb collars,” Chieftain Karit muttered. 

Because of course bomb collars were a possibility. “Honorless curs,” Jaster said, shaking his head.

Ben just shrugged. “They certainly do make things more difficult, but bomb collars aren’t a complete negative, especially in a mine. Slavers seldom remember that gasses can ignite as well as they can suffocate. One well-placed detonation or suicide can bring down a lot of rock.” He took a deep breath. “I am quite grateful that this won’t be an available tactic, for anyone. Regardless, we need to expect that they will have bombs strategically placed.”

Cody was giving Ben a hard look that said they would be having words later. Then he said, “Here. We have four Jedi masters, five knights, one padawan _who will be staying out of the way_ \--” he pointedly glared at Yan, who just looked a bit mystified at the way he was being singled out “-- and several squads of _verd’e_. Have one of the knights and Padawan Xanatos guard the drop ships. We’ll need medical waiting with them as well. Helix is a fully trained battle medic; he’ll be coming with us. The General and our _Vod’e_ will be hitting the slave pens first.”

“We’ll drop down through the air shafts here,” Ben said. “Master Dooku, I suggest you take the frontal assault. If Tor Vizsla is there, which he may or may not be, you should be aware that he is skilled in lightsabre combat.”

“Really.” Yan sounded interested and coldly calculating. “His preferred style, youngling?”

“Mixed. None of the classical forms, but expect him to use his regular arsonal while he is fighting with his 'sabre. That includes blaster, flamethrower, grapple line, grenade, and jet pack.”

“How delightful! I look forward to it.” Master Dooku smiled. It was sinister as hell.

“ _Buir_ ,” Ben looked to Jaster. “The _verd’e_ should split into companies. One to stay with the dropships. One here, to take out snipers. I suggest assigning one knight to that group; request that they use the Force to pinpoint nests, then launch long range missiles from one of the dropships.”

Well, _that_ would be brutally effective.

“Kark,” Chieftain Adonai looked a little green.

“Master Dooku with a company at his back will head for the main entrance. Use the blaster practice technique that we worked on. The only trouble will come when they start firing rockets or if they have an ion cannon, or something like it.” Ben paused and stroked his chin with his free hand. “Unlikely, but possible. If so, distract them. Throw boulders at them, or get the dropships to fire answering missiles. We don’t _need_ that front entrance; it’s just a distraction.”

Ben paused a moment and pursed his lips. 

“While I don’t strictly think this warning will be necessary, it's always better to be overprepared,” he said with a determined nod. “ _Buir_ , if you or any of your _verd’e_ see a Force user with a red-bladed ‘sabre, don’t even try to engage. Run, and comm me or one of the other Jedi masters. We will move to intercept.”

Master Dooku was staring at Ben in open horror.

“You think it’s possible for a Sith to be there?” he asked incredulously. “They are extinct. Wiped out, and have been for centuries.”

There were confused mutterings around the room. Jaster waited and watched, with eyes narrowed.

The look that Ben turned on Master Dooku was so peaceful it was nearly saintly. The only expression he allowed himself was a very slight raise of an eyebrow. It very neatly implied _oh really_ without ever crossing the line towards a solid answer.

“I make no predictions on what we may or may not find working with Death Watch. I only know that I would prefer to give the warning and give my _aliit_ a fighting chance in a worst case scenario, then leave out a simple instruction and regret it.”

Master Dooku frowned at him, but his face was tight with concern. Jaster wasn’t completely sure what that was about, but that could wait. He’d ask later, maybe when they were flying over to Concordia.

“Masters,” Jaster said, dragging Ben’s attention to him. “You said we should call one of the _jetiise_ masters. Not a knight.”

“In a worst case scenario a Knight would get slaughtered,” Cody said with a one-shouldered shrug. “Unless they’re as good as the General, Master Dooku, or Master Plo.”

“It’s unlikely to be an issue,” Ben said in a reassuring tone of voice.

Jaster was not reassured. “Noted, _ad_.”

Master Dooku just looked like he had a million questions and was debating on how long he could nail Ben down to answer them. Jaster wished him good kriffing luck with that.

“While Master Dooku and his back up are attacking the main entrance,” Ben continued, pointing to one of the maps, “the rest of the companies will be infiltrating the air shafts. Once we have a more definite location for the mine, we’ll be able to pinpoint where the shafts are and what defenses they have set up around them. Don’t use your jet packs when you descend. Explosions would be bad. Let one of the knights or Master Jinn or Master Plo lower you down. Everyone will need to keep their eyes open and HUD’s tracking the area around them. Mines can have a lot of hidey holes, and some very unexpected and unpleasant drops.”

“The General and our _vod’e_ should go in first,” Cody said. He shook his head at Jaster’s immediate move to object. “It’s for the best, _buir_. If the main attacks come before we have the prisoners secured, the Death Watch may start killing them out of spite.”

“Exactly,” Ben said, nodding firmly. “Don’t worry, _buir_ , we’ve done stealth infiltrations before.”

“Is it really stealth if we tend to take out everyone before they can sound the alarm?” Cody asked him with amusement.

“You’re not called Ghost Company for nothing,” Ben said with a wink.

“How would we know when to start the attack?” Chieftain Razi asked. He sounded skeptical, but not totally opposed. 

“I can telepathically alert the rest of the Jedi,” Ben said easily. 

“Useful,” Jaster said, feeling kind of impressed. And a bit unsettled. They could read each other’s minds?

“Very,” Ben deadpanned. 

“What if they try to collapse the mine? What if it’s a trap?” Chieftain Karit asked.

Ben shrugged. “Assuming we don’t end up in the deepest tunnels, I can hold the mine up until we all get out. It would be unpleasant, but doable. My _vod’e_ will get me and the prisoners out. Since we have four masters, five knights, and a padawan…” He huffed in laughter. “I’m sort of tempted just to have us all work together and peel the mountain open like an oka-fruit.” He stroked his chin and got this distant look to his gaze. “My old pa-- with the right back up, it’s possible.”

The council stared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. Jaster switched to looking at Cody, who just shrugged as if to say, _maybe he could do it_. 

“You can lift that much?” Jaster asked, more than a little astonished.

“Size, _weight_ , doesn’t matter,” Ben said musingly. “Only one's connection to the Force. And what one master cannot accomplish alone, two or more may yet be able to.”

Jaster was starting to see why one _jetii_ was considered adequate for most missions. 

He looked at Master Dooku.

Dooku shook his head. “I know myself well enough to know that such use of the Force is beyond me. Even with Master Plo and my old padawan working with me... I do not think we would be capable of it.”

Ben dropped his thinking pose with a dismissive wave. “Then it is a moot point. If the mine collapses, we Jedi will hold it up until everyone is out. Obviously, this is not ideal. Better to avoid that if we can.”

“That’s a hell of a plan, _ad’e_ ,” Jaster said with a shake of his head. “I don’t like that you'll be going in at all, let alone going in first.”

“I’m open to viable alternatives.” Ben raised a challenging eyebrow. “But whatever we agree on, we should do it soon. The faster we get to Concordia, the better off our _aliit_ will be.”

As expected, the rest of the council jumped in with counter arguments. There was a great deal of bickering about whether or not Ben and his _vod’e_ should be allowed to go, and a fair amount of discussion of alternate uses of the _verd’e_. 

Through it all, Ben and Cody tag teamed the rest of the council like professionals, shooting down weak suggestions and shoring each other’s tactics up. They functioned smoothly and efficiently. 

To Jaster’s vast surprise, his _ad’e_ were willing to adopt good ideas, and were even gracious about doing so. It took several hours for everyone to agree on a plan, but by the time they were done, Jaster wouldn’t have been surprised at all to discover that the rest of the council had completely forgotten they were talking to children.

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel --- 

The atmosphere aboard the _Mand'alor_ 's cruiser, the _Vigilant_ , was a strange mix of anticipation, irritation, and awe. None of the councilors or the _verd'e_ had really believed them when General Kenobi and Commander Cody had declared they would be departing the same evening.

No one had expected that they would know exactly how to pull that off, and it had shown. So the shock everyone around them had felt had likely been kind of hilarious when the pair of them had simply whipped out the logistics plan they'd developed for just such occasions and applied it to the problem at hand. He himself hadn't been in the council chamber to see it happen, but Waxer just knew they'd made everyones' heads spin.

The Commander had been rather smug about it, when he'd commed to get them up to date on the situation.

He and his _Vod'e_ had hurried off to find Ardanna the moment the Commander had given them the departure timetable. They'd escorted the _jetiise_ back to their suite, asked them to wait there for news from Master Dooku regarding the plans, and then made their way to the armoury, Jango following on their heels.

Ardanna had waited just long enough for them to remove their buckets, surveyed them, taking in the looks on their faces, and smirked. "Blasters aren't going to do it, are they?" She'd asked, rhetorically, and immediately become their new favourite person.

As they'd finished equipping themselves under Mira's watchful eye, happily helping themselves to any weapons and ammunition that might be helpful, a half-familiar snotty voice had rung out in the main armoury and they'd emerged to find Jinn's padawan Xanatos talking to Ardanna somewhat condescendingly about the style of armour favoured by the _mando'ad'e_. The idiot had taken one look at them, his eyes lingering on their uncovered faces, and smirked as though he'd won something. Ardanna had cleared her throat pointedly, replied brusquely to whatever his last comment had been with _'You have your opinions on weaponry and armour, and I have mine. I suggest you prepare yourself for the rescue mission',_ and turned her attention back to the _Vod'e_ , summarily dismissing him.

Ignoring him completely after that, she'd turned to reach for a bundle of dark green armourweave on a shelf above her workbench. She'd handed it to Waxer with a nod. _'Pass this on to the little General,'_ she'd commanded, and he'd almost had the urge to salute.

At the time, none of them had thought anything of the incident beyond, 'ugh, that karking idiot is back again'.

Looking back on it with a few hours' distance, though... Waxer scowled. The little quisling had to have deliberately followed them. Possibly to spy on them, though why he would need or want to do so was unclear.

That padawan of Jinn's was definitely far too used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. And if what he'd wanted was information, that might have justified shadowing them.

But it didn't excuse the rudeness, or the general disregard for _mando'ad_ culture.

And now… Waxer's scowl deepened, and he was glad it was hidden by his bucket. Now, he was making subtle barbed comments about them whenever they were in earshot. It didn't matter whom he was speaking to.

_They all look so alike. Even for brothers, they're a little **too** identical. Don't you think?_

_Even the Mand'alor doesn't know where they're from. Why is that?_

_Younglings their age shouldn't be that good with a blaster. How did they get so skilled?_

Waxer was slowly but surely reaching the limits of his patience. He didn't care if someone insulted him. But the insults to his _buir_ and his General? Those tempted him to blaster Xanatos in the face.

And then there was the way his General reacted anytime he heard Xanatos speak.

Feeling the mix of nausea and revulsion and something he could only classify as fear... Force, but it made Waxer want to stuff Xanatos in an airlock and just kriffing leave him there, locked in, the door set to open only for one of the _Vod'e_ , and nevermind the consequences to himself.

Only the consequences it would have for his _buir_ and his General had stayed his hand, thus far.

He suspected that if the Commander could feel what he felt, whenever the General was around Jinn's padawan, nothing would stop Cody from dealing with the issue.

If they hadn't been about to embark on a ground campaign, Waxer might've approached General _Buir_ about the problem. Master Plo always had good advice, and as ranking Jedi Master, he could also do something about this if he deemed it needful.

For now, he told himself, all he could do was watch. He'd told Boil and Helix about his own dislike for the padawan, and they'd both confirmed feeling the same way about the teen, though they hadn't really noted the General's unease until he'd mentioned it.

Kenobi was too kriffing good at hiding his own feelings under a veneer of Duty and Responsibility for his own good.

A slight flicker in his new awareness of his bonds with his _Vod'e_ made him bite at his lip.

That had been Crys, and he was worried about something.

Wishing he could talk to them over the bond like the General seemed to manage, he tried to reply with reassurance.

 _Soon,_ Vod'e. _Soon. We'll be there in a few hours. Just hold on._

Turning his attention back to what he was doing, Waxer finished his weapons maintenance -- entirely unnecessary but calming work -- humming under his breath.

_Kandosii sa ka'rta, Vod'e an._

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

He'd been preoccupied with the logistics of getting everything organised for their departure, and hadn't had a chance to spend much time with his men as he'd have liked. Their _buir_ had never done a same-day take-off before -- not on this scale -- and it had showed. He and General Kenobi had had to lay out the plan in detail, twice, so that the _Mand'alor_ could fix everything in his memory. And then their _buir_ had asked him and the General to stick around and play aide de camp to make sure nothing about their take-off got kriffed up due to his lack of experience with the process. 

It had been praise enough for his abilities and the efficiency of their planning to make him want to preen, but he'd missed having his _Vod'e_ around him as he'd done it.

Not hearing their voices reporting this step completed or minor issues with that one had been jarring, every time someone had approached their _buir_ with questions regarding the logistics.

In the end, it had taken him hours longer than he'd have preferred to get free long enough to figure out where his four _Vod'e_ had holed up, and drag the General along with him.

He hadn't been surprised to find them grouped together in their shared shipboard quarters, located between their _buir's_ and Jango's.

What _had_ been surprising, had been the set of glowering expressions they all wore.

Kenobi, just as startled, stared around the room, taking in each of them. "Alright," he demanded, "what's happened?"

Waxer muttered some swear words under his breath.

Boil sighed, leaning against his _riduur_. "Nothing yet," he said dryly. "That's the problem."

"At least if something had happened we could act, but this is just..." Wooley shook his head. "A feeling like a set of boots that fits wrong."

The General raised an eloquent eyebrow at them. "I don't understand," he said. "Explain."

"Jinn's kriffing padawan is being a snide little pain in the _shebs_ ," Waxer growled. "He kriffing followed us to Ardanna's workshop just to spy on us, and got a good look at our faces. Since then he's been making comments about the fact that we're clones and karking implying _buir_ commissioned us. But he's careful enough about it that we can't call him out on his insults."

Cody sighed. That figured.

General Kenobi was making a face that said he wasn't sure what to do. It wasn't an expression he wore often, being a generally decisive sort of person.

"I still say we should tell Master Plo," Helix put in. "If the little laserbrain says that kind of karking nonsense around the wrong people it could lead to a brawl, or worse, a duel. Things between the _jetiise_ and the _verd'e_ are tense already. That kind of implied insult to our _buir_..."

He let the statement trail off, leaving the very clear implications hanging in the air.

Kenobi nodded. "A valid point, and one worth considering. I think you may be right. It's not strictly fair to sanction him when he hasn't done anything more than imply things about our _buir_ that aren't true. But… going into a battle with that kind of friction between the two groups of allied combatants if it can be easily avoided is tactically a terrible idea."

Cody nodded. "I'm with Helix. General Koon can make this call better than we can."

General Kenobi ran a hand over his face, looking suddenly more tired than he had before and Waxer gave him a concerned look. "I'll deal with this," Kenobi said. "Best that way. If one of you is seen speaking to Master Plo right now, it might give the wrong impression."

Cody scoffed. "You going in to see him isn't any better, in that regard, General," he pointed out. "Nor can we call him here to discuss it."

That got a frustrated sigh out of Kenobi. "What would you have me do, then? Ignore the issue?"

"Can't you _jetiise_ use telepathy to talk to each other? I seem to recall you spent a good hour and a half being tested on your ability to do that, recently," Cody asked, pointing out what he considered the obvious, and getting a faint laugh out of his General.

"A very pragmatic suggestion, Cody. I can try. That particular trick usually only works when both participants are aware that the other is speaking to them and open to it, but Master Plo and I struck up a good rapport last rotation."

Kenobi closed his eyes and Cody watched curiously. Nothing seemed to happen. And then kept happening for long enough that he assumed Master Plo had answered the General's call.

When his eyes reopened, the General said, "I don't believe Xanatos would be daring enough to try to start something -- be it now or after Master Plo speaks to him about it -- but there's no sense in risking an incident over something this trivial. It sounded like he was only making those comments when one of you was around to hear them, so it might be best if you five hold here until we deploy."

Cody didn't bother to stop himself from frowning. There were good odds at least one of them would be needed to oversee the deployment and the associated shipboard preparations, so staying here would cause them some problems.

"Speaking of deployments," Waxer spoke up, suddenly looking much more cheerful. "I didn't have a chance to give this to you earlier, General. Ardanna sent you something."

"Did she?" Kenobi looked very pleased, himself, on hearing that news.

Cody was pretty sure he knew what that something was, and he was looking forward to seeing his General wear it into battle.

Waxer grinned, pleased to see the smile on the General's face, and twisted to grab at a bundle of dark green armourweave. "Here. Put on your new surcoat, sir."

Cody couldn't help the wave of anticipation that swept through him at the very thought. It would look fantastic and keep his General better protected. You really couldn't ask more of a piece of armourweave.

The General gave him a knowing look and took the surcoat. Shaking it out and letting the folds of heavy cloth fall to pool on the floor, he inspected it first, turning it this way and that. Then he threw it dramatically over his shoulders the way he'd used to put on his cloak, and Cody let himself revel in the sight.

They weren't Jedi robes, but, Force, the effect was similar enough to make him suddenly homesick.

Shoving the feeling away, he smiled. "That's a good look."

Kenobi laughed at him. "You're just jealous."

Boil elbowed his _riduur_ , and both of them snickered.

"Hmmm, no," Cody replied. "Appreciative. It's like getting back a piece of home. Even if it's not a real Jedi cloak."

General Kenobi sobered a little and nodded. "I feel much the same," he admitted.

A short silence fell, and then Helix spoke up. "Didn't Ardanna say that the surcoat was supposed to go under your belt and the cape?" He asked.

"She did," Kenobi agreed, "but for now this is fine."

"If you need a hand with it," Wooley suggested, "you could always ask the Commander."

Boil nodded, smirking. "Yeah, the Commander's real good at all kinds of armour maintenance."

Waxer gave his _riduur_ a knowing look. "And you're better at removing it."

Wooley pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Honestly, you two. I know it's not like any of us has any sense of shame, but you know better than to say that kind of thing where it might be overheard by someone other than a _Vod_."

As if to underscore his words, the door of their quarters chimed, and then their _buir_ stepped through. " _Ad'ike_ ," he said, clearly relieved to see them all present.

The General smiled. " _Buir_. Is everything in place?"

"More or less," their _buir_ answered, a twinge of unhappiness coming through. "Are you sure you won't reconsider your plan to spearhead this attack?"

"It's expedient," Kenobi replied, audibly tired of rehashing the same discussion, "and we've done similar missions more times than I care to count."

"That's what bothers me," the _Mand'alor_ muttered, then sighed. "Fine, if you won't be dissuaded, we'll just have to make sure you have the proper support."

Helix stepped in close and wrapped his arms around their _buir_. "We know you're worried, but it'll be fine. We'll make sure of it," he said. "We've faced far worse odds before, and we have far more reliable intel this time than we do on most missions."

Their _buir_ didn't look reassured.

Cody stepped in close, joining Helix, and added himself to the hug. The rest of the _Vod'e_ followed his example, a beat later. Cody waited until Kenobi had joined them as well before he broke the silence. "If it's too difficult to trust that nothing will go seriously wrong, _buir_ ," he said, "trust that we have a home we _want_ to come back to. Well, one that isn't each other, or our General. That's something we've never had before, and it means more to us than you could know. Until very recently, no one but General Kenobi and General Koon has ever tried to protect us the way you do. That carries _weight_."

All of his _Vod'e_ looked up at the _Mand'alor_ and nodded seriously.

Kenobi was staring at them in something like awe.

Their door chimed again, breaking the moment.

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Yan was starting to regret his decision to include Qui-Gon on this mission more and more as time went on.

The knights had been stationed with their assigned Mandalorian companies. As Yan, Master Plo, and Qui-Gon were all part of the main assault groups, they had decided to wait out the trip in their assigned quarters. Padawan Xanatos was with them as well, meditating with Qui-Gon to prepare themselves for battle. With luck, the young padawan would see none of the fighting.

They’d been given a larger stateroom in the same hall as the _Mand'alor_ and his family. Another mark of honor and respect. The _Mand'alor_ was making it very clear that he was in support of the Jedi presence here. 

Yan sensed that it was a layered gesture. Half of the ruling council of Mandalore were pacifists, and anything that increased the likelihood that peace treaties would be successfully negotiated would be looked upon well by them. By keeping the Jedi close, the _Mand'alor_ was implicitly stating that he trusted them enough to allow them close.

Or perhaps that he was willing to personally keep an eye on the Jedi interlopers. Likely, both. 

By supporting the Jedi, the _Mand'alor_ was also stating that he fully supported his own Force sensitive adopted son.

Despite the confidence and aplomb that Jaster Mereel carried out this politicking with, Yan at least was more than aware how dangerous his situation was. The _Mand'alor_ 's was an elected position, given by the vote of the clan chieftains. His people, the True Mandalorians, were warriors. They wouldn’t hesitate to violently depose him, if they felt it necessary. 

That made making peace with an age old enemy very tricky business indeed. 

Which was part of the reason that Yan was infuriated to discover that Padawan Xanatos had been picking at Ben’s brothers.

Master Plo had roused from his meditation with a deep displeasure that hung in the Force like a cloud, and then proceeded to explain that young Ben had informed him that his _Vod’e_ were deeply displeased by some backhanded insults that Padawan Xanatos had allowed them to overhear. 

The split second look of shocked betrayal on Xanatos’s face had been very telling. As if he hadn’t expected his barbs to ever find their way back to the masters of his Order. 

“Master Qui-Gon told me to go gather information,” he said defensively. “That’s what I was doing, gathering information!”

“No, you were antagonizing our hosts,” Qui-Gon said harshly. 

“They need us here,” Xanatos said stubbornly. He didn’t quite cross his arms, but from how his hands clenched, it looked like he wanted to. “They need all the help they can get to stop their insurgent attacks. They said so themselves. They can’t afford to take insult over a few comments.”

“You foolish child,” Yan said, barely withholding a sneer. “If, indeed, they do need us, which I have my doubts about after the council meeting today, you are putting the _Mand'alor_ in an incredibly difficult situation. We are here on his and his children’s good graces, and if rumor spreads that we are disparaging them, _any_ of them, then it won’t just be our heads that people will be calling for. That kind of insult puts the entire Order at risk of winding up at war with Mandalore.”

“Master Dooku is correct,” Qui-Gon said with a flat, unhappy frown. “The easiest way for a Mandalorian warrior to resolve an insult is to fight the person who gave it. The _Mand'alor_ ’s warriors might decide to take care of that problem themselves, and spare their king the trouble.”

Before Xanatos could do more than open his mouth to argue, Master Plo jumped in.

“Or worse, the _Mand'alor_ could be forced to answer the insult himself. Which he might need to if the decision comes down to maintaining the support of his people or forgiving the Jedi.” Plo’s deep voice projection dipped into something that sounded truly menacing. “We would be lucky for him to attempt to fight us personally. No, it would be far more likely for Ben to take up the challenge himself; it was his _vod’e_ who were insulted, after all. And from what I have seen, they are all terrifyingly loyal to one another.”

Finally, Xanatos seemed to get the potential for disaster here, because his face went ghost pale.

“You saw their training, youngling,” Yan said, leaning in to emphasise the difference between their heights. “How do you think a trial by combat would go between you and him?”

Xanatos floundered for a moment, and cast a worried glance back and forth between them all. “But something is definitely weird here!” he finally said. “How did that Ben kid get so good? And those brothers of his have _got_ to be clones, and that’s illegal.”

“In the Republic,” Qui-Gon said. “Which the Mandalore Sector is not a part of. Even if they were, the brothers were just adopted by the _Mand'alor_ a few weeks ago. He would take no blame for their creation.”

“And regardless of that,” Yan added, “you are here to learn diplomacy. There is a subtler way to find the answers you seek. One that won’t get us permanently kicked off the planet. Or on the docket for the next war. Mandalorians have long memories. They are still frightfully angry over the outcome of the Mandalorian-Jedi War, which _ended several centuries ago_.”

He abruptly turned around and took a slow breath, releasing his anger to the Force. 

Xanatos was young. Very young. He’d only been Qui-Gon’s padawan for a couple of years now, and he was still new to missions outside of the Temple. Such events were always learning experiences, for everyone. 

“We must also remember our mission here,” Master Plo said calmly. “The Order is here to help save innocent lives and to bring about lasting peace. Any other suspicions are secondary to that purpose. To fail due to our own hubris would be a shame to the Order, and our life’s work.”

Chagrin filled the Force. “Yes, Master Koon.” Xanatos spoke softly, clearly contrite. “Yes, Masters. I apologize.”

Yan released another bout of anger to the Force, almost bringing himself in balance again.

“The situation is salvageable, at least,” Yan said. He glanced at Qui-Gon, and envied his old padawan’s upcoming free time. It would have been nice to get more than a few stolen minutes of meditation in before the battle, but now he would need to go give his apologies to Ben and his brothers.

Which did offer him more of a chance at finding out their secrets, but that was just a side benefit. 

“Yes,” Master Plo agreed. “Ben chose to contact me via telepathy. A very private mode of conversation, with no chance for being overheard by enthusiastic warriors. If we are very lucky, this will go no further.”

“They already dislike us, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said softly, shaking his head.

“Yes, Master. I just thought…” 

Yan turned in time to see Xanatos wince. 

Qui-Gon raised a questioning eyebrow.

Xanatos slumped in place and looked up at Qui-Gon out of the corner of his eye. “I just thought that if I could get a reaction out of them, then they’d slip up and we’d be able to figure out what was going on here.”

Now it was Yan’s turn to wince. Strange to hear his own justification for bringing Qui-Gon here spouted from the lips of a woefully inept child. 

“And that is a strategy that can be used, in some cases,” Qui-Gon admitted. “But not here. Not in this particular way. Next time, talk to me about your theories and we can work through a strategy together.”

“Yes, Master.” Xanatos sounded properly chastened. 

“For now, continue your meditation. We have a difficult task ahead of us.” Qui-Gon then turned to Yan and gave him a questioning look.

Yan nodded. “Yes, I’ll be heading over to smooth things over with them. If the _Mand'alor_ hasn’t heard about this from his children yet, I’m sure he will soon. Next time, _think_ before you insult the local princes.”

“Princes?!” Xanatos’s voice ratcheted up an octave. 

Yan raised his eyebrows in an effort to express just how unimpressed he was. “The _Mand'alor_ might be elected, but he is effectively their king. He keeps a council and listens to them for political gain, not because the law insists that he do so. Even though Mandalorians do not treat their leader as other cultures do their royalty, that doesn’t change the fact that the _Mand'alor_ ’s family are considered special. Important, if only due to their association with him.”

“I’m assigning you an additional class on cultural politics when we get back to the Temple,” Qui-Gon said. 

“I suggest a history class as well,” Master Plo added. 

Xanatos winced hard, but didn’t dispute what was obviously his punishment for making their lives so difficult. “Yes, Masters.”

He was not a bad child, Yan thought. Just arrogant. Perhaps a bit stupid. A curious choice for Qui-Gon.

Suddenly, Yan was struck with a deep curiosity for what Qui-Gon’s first padawan, Knight Feemor, thought about Xanatos. It had been a while since he’d had a chance to talk to his grandpadawan. Feemor was a good Jedi. Quiet, but steady. 

_After this mess is resolved, I will write him_ , Yan promised himself. 

“If you will excuse me,” Yan said, nodding to Plo and Qui-Gon. 

Right before he walked out of their room, he heard Qui-Gon call out, “Force be with you, Master,” with just a hint of laughter in his voice.

Because of course he would find it amusing to see Yan in such a pickle.

As Yan made his way over to the children’s suite, he took a moment to shake his head at the eventuality of explaining all of this to Sy. He was never going to hear the end of it.

Even still, it would be a fun story to tell over late night tea. Sy always wanted all the details of his missions, good and bad alike. 

To his mild surprise, Jango answered the door. 

“Master Dooku.” The way Jango said his name made it sound like not quite a question. 

“Forgive my interruption, Jango,” Yan said with a small bow. “I had hoped to talk to Cody and his brothers, if they are available?”

Jango raised his eyebrows, but turned to look behind him for confirmation. Whatever he saw must have been satisfactory, because he nodded and waved Yan in. 

Ah. The _Mand'alor_ was here, along with Ben and all of the brothers. Well, that would make this awkward. 

Best get it over with.

“Master Dooku,” Ben said, with a slight bow. “How can we help you?”

“Young Ben.” Yan returned the gesture. “I am actually here to speak with your brothers.” 

From the hostile looks on the young warrior’s faces, they knew exactly why he was here.

Strange, though. He should have been able to feel their upset. He certainly had in the past. Now there was nothing.

They were all wrapped in Ben’s mental shields, Yan realized with surprise. How curious.

He pushed the thought aside. That could be considered at a later point.

“It has come to my attention that Padawan Xanatos has acted in a manner unbecoming of the Jedi Order,” he said, coming straight to the point. “He spoke thoughtlessly, and without the approval of his master or the rest of the Order here. I deeply regret any distress he may have caused you,” Yan let his expression grow a touch harder, “and he _will_ be apologizing to you directly, once we are in a less urgent situation. For now, he is contemplating the error of his ways while Master Jinn and Master Plo collaborate on how to properly impress upon him the importance of diplomacy and understanding of cultural differences.”

“What did he say?” the _Mand'alor_ demanded, stiffening in the seat he’d drifted into when Yan had walked in. 

Cody shook his head sharply. “Nothing direct. Just enough to imply insult. _Di’kut_. As if we’d never heard someone say that kind of kark about us before.”

The _Mand'alor_ ’s eyes blazed, but before he could stand up, Cody raised his hands in a placating gesture. 

“It’s nothing we can’t handle, _buir_ ,” he said.

Ben twitched and his hands tightened into fists, but those were the only signs that he was affected by the conversation. Waxer looked worriedly at Ben, but the rest of the brothers were focused on the _Mand'alor_ or Cody. 

“You should not need to deal with it at all,” Yan said, likely stealing the words right out of Mereel’s mouth. It didn’t make them any less true.

Yan had more than a few things to say about his grandpadawan. ‘Stupid’ and ‘churlish’ were only a couple of them. He kept such thoughts tightly behind his teeth, though the dissatisfaction burned. If this situation had been just a hair more delicate, that brainless _child_ could have cost lives with his comments.

He reminded himself that Xanatos was just that. A child. And a child could not be expected to act with all the forethought of an adult. He took a breath and released his frustration to the Force. Hells, he would need to take a moment to meditate before the battle just to be properly prepared.

“I'd expected better from my padawan’s padawan,” Yan said simply.

“Maybe this will be a learning experience for him,” Ben said. Yan couldn’t tell from his tone if he was pleased or upset by that idea. He definitely was feeling _something_ about it, though. 

There was a connection there, one Yan couldn’t yet see. It sat uneasily with him, and compounded on what he’d already seen from Qui-Gon’s interactions with the brothers. He’d wanted to know more about whatever Ben and the brothers' history was with Qui-Gon, but he hadn’t actually wanted to cause them distress.

“General?” Waxer asked quietly, stepping closer. Without a word, the brothers reacted, tightening into a protective ring around their leader.

Ben shook off whatever he was thinking of. “I’m _fine_ , _vod'e_. You don’t need to worry.”

Yan found himself sharing a disbelieving look with Mereel.

“Right,” Mereel said, sounding totally unconvinced. He raised an eyebrow at Yan. The _fix this_ was implied. 

Yan nodded. “I’ll coordinate with the other masters to keep Padawan Xanatos occupied and out of your hair as much as possible for the duration of his stay on Mandalore.”

“Jinn, too,” Boil said sourly. “That laserbrain can take his _mirsh'kyramud_ with him.”

Ben gave Boil a chiding look. “Master Qui-Gon is very skilled. Wasting his abilities would be a mistake.”

None of the brothers looked like they agreed with Ben, but none of them openly argued. 

“Why do you dislike Master Jinn?” Yan asked.

Now even Mereel looked curious, which meant that he didn’t know either. The brothers all glowered, but they looked to Ben and waited for him to answer.

Ben sighed and stepped away from the brothers to take a seat. Not that this actually allowed him to escape them; they just followed him and perched in the space available next to him.

“Likely because they think that Master Qui-Gon’s presence is a stressor for me,” Ben said wryly.

“And is it?” Yan prodded.

Ben pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. “I have mixed feelings on the subject. I have some history with him, which is irrelevant at the moment.” He gave his brothers an unimpressed look. “It happened long ago in my past and years from now in his future. It would be unfair of us to judge the man he is today on things that have not yet come to pass. Even considering that, I have no concerns about him helping with our plans here and now. He has always tried his best to bring peace to the galaxy and serve the Light.”

Yan read between the lines of what Ben wouldn’t say. That Qui-Gon had always acted in the best interest of the greater good, but nothing was said about how Qui-Gon had acted towards _Ben_. It rang unpleasantly with what Ben had mentioned during the council meeting weeks ago about his master. 

Yan had a suspicion. Little Obi-Wan was five standard right now, and initiates didn’t age out of the crèche until they turned thirteen. That was more than long enough for Qui-Gon to finish training Xanatos and be ready for another padawan. 

Oh, Yan didn’t want to think of his student bungling so badly. Ben was an exemplary Jedi, but nothing he’d said about his past made for pleasant listening. 

Yan pursed his lips and decided to take a chance.

He stepped over to where Ben and his brothers were settled and took a seat. “Before Master Jinn, Master Windu, and I arrived back at Coruscant, I received a comm from my dear friend, Master Sifo-Dyas.”

Instantly, Ben was focused on Yan like a laser. “Did you?” he asked pleasantly.

Yan nodded his head. Perhaps he shouldn’t speak of such things with the _Mand'alor_ and his other son present, but Yan had the feeling that Ben would relay all of this information to them anyways. Besides, they were both already aware of Ben’s claim that he and his brothers were sent from the future.

“Most outside of the Order are unaware of this, but Master Sifo-Dyas is gifted in foresight,” Yan said conversationally to Mereel. He was certain that Ben already knew this little tidbit. 

“He has visions?” Mereel asked, settling back. There was still tension in his body, but the anger from earlier had been banked, and his face was alight with curiosity. 

“He does. Terrible ones, at times,” Yan confirmed. “But his call wasn’t about his own visions, for once. He had a young initiate with him. A very small child by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

That name caused a satisfying reaction. Mereel and Jango merely looked startled, likely recognizing the last name as Ben’s, but every single one of the children stiffened in surprise. Ben was as still as a statue and his face had gone a touch pale.

“He is very young,” Yan continued. “Only five standard, he’d woken up screaming with a terrible vision of men in armor fighting droids. When his crèche master could not calm him, she sent for Master Sifo-Dyas in hopes that his expertise might help young Obi-Wan. From further discussion with them both, we believe that Obi-Wan dreamed of the attack where Crys and Longshot were taken.”

For whatever reason, most of the younglings breathed a small sigh of relief at that.

“He is a remarkable little boy,” Yan said. “Kind. It was his vision that encouraged Master Sifo-Dyas to urge the Council into sending back as many knights to aid you as they did. Strangely enough, he and my dear Sifo-Dyas seem to have hit it off.” 

Now Yan felt like he was truly going out on a limb. But he wanted Ben and his brothers to talk to him, to trust him. Not just because he found that he liked them as people, or because Ben was a pleasure and a challenge to spar with, but because he felt, down in his soul, that the Force had to have sent them here for a reason. It was _important_. Just as he knew that their task was bigger than they imagined it to be. They would need help, help that they would never find if they did not _trust_. 

Perhaps part of him was also disheartened by how jaded these younglings were. Yan was an idealist at heart; he didn’t want to see the Order sent to war, nor did he want to think that they would allow the terrible misdeeds that had shaped Ben’s life. Yan intended to do something about that, if he could.

“Little Obi-Wan managed to convince Master Sifo-Dyas to bring him along to meet me before I departed again for Mandalore. I confess, I am not particularly good with small children, but Obi-Wan seemed at ease with Master Sifo-Dyas.” 

Yan shifted into a more relaxed pose, folding his hands together and raising an inquiring eyebrow at Ben. “The little one’s vision did more than warn us to return as quickly as possible. It set him on the path of friendship with Master Sifo-Dyas. Sy…” he paused to gather his words. “His visions are crippling things, and because of them he has never had an interest in taking a padawan. But young Obi-Wan is years yet from being of proper age to be apprenticed, and Master Sifo-Dyas is a High Councilor. He rarely goes out on missions. I cannot predict what will happen in the next several years, that has never been my gift, but I know that my friend will likely continue to aid young Obi-Wan with his visions, as well as act as a mentor in other ways.”

If the younglings were bothered by Qui-Gon because he had been Ben’s master, farfetched as that idea was, Yan thought it might ease something in them to know that young Obi-Wan at least had another master willing to mentor him to some degree.

He rubbed his thumb over his goatee as he considered the matter. “I find it likely that Master Sifo-Dyas might attempt to convince me to help. It is difficult to say and… I am exceptionally bad with young children,” he admitted with a grimace. He raised an amused eyebrow at Ben and the brothers. “How fortuitous for me that none of you act as your apparent age suggests that you should. It certainly makes my stay on Mandalore significantly easier.”

The _Mand'alor_ frowned at him, clearly thinking through everything that Yan had said. “Interesting to know, but how is this relevant?”

“I simply wish to ease some potential worries,” Yan explained. “Master Yoda is fond of saying that the future is always in motion. I believe Ben's story to be truth; there is too much evidence to support it. If the Force did send the eight of them to this time to change what will be, then things must actually change. I would understand it if Ben and his brothers feel this is a task that they alone must accomplish, but there are others who would offer their aid. Myself and Master Sifo-Dyas among them. For now, we will do what we can with what we know, and we will respect their wish to keep their past private. I told you of young Obi-Wan so that all of you might know that others are willing to act for his benefit regardless.” He raised an eyebrow. “Though it would be easier if we knew what to avoid.”

He stood up.

“Think on it. And consider,” he paused to smirk at them, “that young Obi-Wan has already expressed an interest in meeting his brothers.”

With that, Yan bowed and excused himself.

It seemed unlikely that the younglings would confide in him so quickly. They were far too wary. But he’d laid out his opening gambit, and now they were aware of his goals in the matter as well as his investment in Ben’s younger self. It was a good lure, Yan was sure of it. 

The younglings would take time to think over their options, but Yan had high hopes that in declaring his, and Sy’s, interest in making young Obi-Wan’s life a bit better than Ben’s had been, he’d shown that they were trustworthy enough to help.

Or, if he was being cynical, it showed that he was willing to use the happiness of a small child as leverage. Not that he _was_. He knew that both he and Sy would continue to help Obi-Wan regardless. Sy was already wrapped around the child’s finger, and where Sy went, Yan would inevitably follow. But Ben and his _vod’e_ were wary to the point of paranoia. They might very well assume the worst.

The _vod’e_ might take Yan’s statements as an offer of support... or as a threat. He couldn’t be sure of which yet, and that made this particular salvo very risky.

He had time, though. Time to help them retrieve their brothers and neutralize the Death Watch. After that… perhaps then Sy and Obi-Wan might stop by for a visit. Yan had even odds of convincing anyone that he was anything close to non-threatening. Sy was significantly better at it. The _vod’e_ would see young Obi-Wan and watch how Sy carried him around with obvious pleasure and they would be set at ease. Maybe then they would open up.

Assuming this all didn’t blow up in his face before then.

\-- 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first song in this link is the chant that Waxer is singing as he finishes his weapons maintenance: [Vod'e An](https://youtu.be/aKQBNETMA9s)


	21. Chapter 21

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the door that Master Dooku had swanned out of.

Those parting words echoed in his head.

_Consider that young Obi-Wan has already expressed an interest in meeting his brothers._

Force, what that had to mean.

Their General, at _five kriffing years old_ , was having Force visions about them. He'd kriffing well seen Crys and Longshot get taken and been upset by it. Sith-hells, he'd probably seen himself get attacked by the Death Watch, and not known what that meant. 

And his General himself was fretting. Worrying about something to do with meeting his younger self, that probably had something to do with whatever kriffing Force mishap had landed them in the past to begin with.

A glance at his _Vod'e_ revealed four more stunned faces, and Waxer just knew all five of them -- all seven, once they'd gotten Crys and Longshot back -- would be pushing for Master Sifo-Dyas to bring their cadet General out to meet them.

Waxer craved that with a depth of feeling he hadn't expected. He wanted to see what his General was like, at that age. Needed it in a way he'd had no idea he could. Just imagining their General, small enough to be picked up and hugged until he protested, was making him feel a lot like he had when he'd had the rare opportunity to spend time with the cadets on Kamino.

He swallowed around the way the idea made his throat go a little tight with longing.

" _Vod'ike_?" Jango asked them quietly, carefully. "What the kriff was that all about?"

Boil caught Waxer's attention. "I know what you're thinking, _Vod_ ," he said. "Careful."

Helix snorted. "I doubt there's any chance you can dissuade Waxer, at this point."

Jango made an irritated sound, not liking the fact that they were so fixated on the idea that they weren't even responding to him. " _Vod'ike._ "

Waxer shook off his reverie as best he could. "That," he said carefully, not sure why the Commander was still quiet, lost in thought in a way he almost never was, "was Master Dooku's way of trying to win us over."

Wooley nodded. "He knows -- or suspects, maybe -- that meeting that particular Jedi youngling would be something we'd want."

"Like you wanted to meet Master Plo," their _buir_ speculated.

"Yeah," Helix agreed. "Something like that."

General Kenobi finally managed to shake his head to clear it of whatever he was thinking about so hard. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea," he said quietly. "We've already flirted with several time paradoxes that we knew wouldn't interfere too much with our own existences. But _that one_ would be dangerous."

The Commander nodded slowly. Reluctantly, Waxer thought.

"And what if meeting him is critical to making sure our changes to the timeline stick?" Boil argued. "We don't know. Even you don't, General."

The General shook his head and sighed. "No, I don't. But I…"

"It makes you uncomfortable?" Their _buir_ asked him.

"Not as such?" General Kenobi responded, speaking slowly. "Remember what I told you about on Korda VI?"

Their _buir_ and Jango exchanged a look, and Jango muttered. "Kark, that Master was the one who commissioned your _vod'e_ , wasn't he?"

"He was," Kenobi confirmed. "I can't help but wonder if letting him meet these seven will put the idea in his mind. And that's just the start of the bizarre things that could happen."

"Like meeting yourself," the Commander muttered quietly. Waxer suspected Jango and their _buir_ heard him anyway, but they carefully ignored the comment.

Waxer was glad they did, what with the shockingly strong spike of worry, anxiety, and uncertainty that went through Kenobi at the reminder that he would be. The emotion sent a shiver up his spine that he couldn't fully contain.

"And what are you going to do?" Jango asked them. "Master Dooku sounded like he wanted information from you about that youngling. As though you had some to give him."

Kenobi shrugged. "That youngling and my _Vod'e_ know one another very well, in our timeline," he answered, phrasing the sentence very carefully. "I rather suspect that they could answer Master Dooku's questions, if they were willing to."

Wooley snorted. "That's one way to put it," he agreed. "We definitely know him well, _General Kenobi_. Better than we know Master Plo."

Kenobi shook his head, his hands clenching at his sides.

A glance at their _ori'vod_ and Waxer was sure Jango, at least, had guessed part of the truth. If not all of it. And what Jango knew, their _buir_ would know very soon, if Jango felt it was important enough.

"That's an issue we can debate later, Wooley," Kenobi said firmly. "For now, we should be focusing on getting Crys and Longshot out of that camp."

Waxer scrubbed at his face with his hands. "Then you and _ori'vod_ should go make sure the dropships are ready to go, General," he said, accepting the change of topic. "The rest of us are confined to quarters for the duration, as I recall."

Commander Cody made a disgusted sound. "That karking padawan of Jinn's," he muttered darkly. "If he costs us this chance to get our _Vod'e_ back because something went wrong at the last moment..."

Their _buir_ chuckled, the sound holding about as much amusement as the Commander's grumble had. "Ben and I will make sure that doesn't happen, _ad'ika_ ," he said, reassuringly confident, then turned to the General and asked, "Your… whatever it is… Force sense is still pulling you toward the camp nearest the ecliptic?"

The General nodded. "It is, though we would do well to check the others too, if we can spare the time and resources."

Jango looked around the room at him, at the rest of the _Vod'e_ , and then shook his head as if to say _later_. "Come on, then, _jet'ika_ ," he suggested, "We have about two hours left before we make orbit, so now would be a good time for something to try to go wrong."

Waxer tried to hide the way he wanted to throw himself at his General and cling to him until Kenobi understood just how much he needed to see Master Sifo-Dyas show up with a red-headed youngling in tow.

General Kenobi looked directly at him, his expression somewhere between resigned and knowing, then turned to Jango and nodded. "Alright, let's go. By the time we get to the hangar and straighten out whatever's sure to have gone wrong, we'll likely be in orbit already."

"We wouldn't have had this problem aboard the _Negotiator,_ " Helix said with longing in his tone.

The Commander scoffed. "No, we'd have had a thousand other ones."

Their _buir_ laughed, "That's a problem that's been faced by every field commander throughout history, Cody," he said dryly, and got to his feet.

The three of them put their buckets on, and then vanished out the door and down the narrow corridors of the cruiser.

Waxer watched them go, and then flung himself at his _riduur_. "Boil, _Boil_ ," was all he managed to say, before his _riduur_ was laughing at him.

Helix snorted. "If you two don't say the _riduurok_ again _the moment_ you're of age and then adopt about a dozen little ones of your own, I'm disowning you both."

Wooley nodded. "Seriously. Force, you're like a karking loth-cat who's lost her kittens, calling for them every kriffing where you go."

The Commander raised an expressive eyebrow at them both. "If memory serves, both of you were just as bad, back on Kamino. You just hid it better then, and still do now."

"It's not as if giving a kriff about younglings is a bad thing," Waxer pointed out loftily, sure of the truth of his words. "Hells, one of the most important points in the Jedi charter is compassion, remember? And the General could karking well use a bit more compassion in his life. You've all heard the hints he's dropped about all the horrible experiences he had as a kriffing _padawan_."

The Commander looked a bit pained, at that. "I know, _Vod_ , I hear you," he said, "but unless we can convince the General that having his -- his younger self? Force, time travel is weird -- show up on Mandalore, he'll push back against the idea until even Master Dooku gives up."

"All the more reason why we should take up Master Dooku on his offer, then," Waxer argued. "He never said whether that offer was for us or the General, after all. Sure, we have no idea how this Force-based time travel thing works, but so far none of the people we've met have caused paradoxes or whatever."

That actually put a thoughtful look on the Commander's face. "Now that you mention it… no, he _didn't_ specifically make that offer to General Kenobi. I wonder. That has to have been deliberate."

"The rest of us didn't notice it then, either," Helix put in, audibly starting to plan, "but that's because we were more worried about the deployment than whatever Master Dooku was saying about Jinn's padawan."

That definitely wasn't the case anymore. Waxer grinned. "It'd be jumping the chain of command somewhat, for us to go talk to Master Dooku on our own about this, but luckily we're not in the GAR right now, so we can't be court martialed for it."

"Not that the General would ever do anything like that," the Commander defended Kenobi automatically. "You have a point, Waxer." He thought it through some more. "That's an avenue we can definitely consider pursuing, but let's pick this up again after we get our _Vod'e_ out of that camp and back where they belong."

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

He surveyed the hangar, not entirely sure what he felt. The dropships were finally prepared and fueled and the _verd'e_ were impatiently waiting for the command to get underway. Seeing that everything was ready _should_ have been a balm on his nerves. Knowing that they wouldn't face any additional obstacles between leaving the relative safety of the _Vigilant_ and their landing _should_ have been satisfying.

Normally, it would have been.

Ben could feel Waxer continuing to worry at the idea of bringing his younger self to Mandalore. In the Force bond tying them together, he was a mix of intense longing and wistfulness that was incredibly difficult to resist. Ben knew his _Vod'e_ \-- Waxer and Boil in particular -- had absolutely relished in helping and taking care of younglings on Ryloth. He'd had to be pretty firm with them to keep them from simply taking the little Twi'lek girl, Numa, back to the _Negotiator_ with them.

And now, Ben was sure, they saw an opportunity to adopt _him_. A second time.

Under most other circumstances that would have been heartwarming, and he wouldn't have protested it at all, but knowing it was a younger version of himself was weird to begin with. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd suspected that he was in this time twice over, but knowing that for sure was something else entirely. It raised all kinds of questions for the future of their mission. What if meeting his younger self caused some strange time loop? Would he change himself so fundamentally that he wouldn't reach the same point in space-time that had sent him back in time? Would it affect anything at all? After all, if they could find a way back, that would -- theoretically, at least -- neatly resolve any weird time effects.

There were too many unknowns and not nearly enough answers.

But, Ben swallowed back a sigh, he knew kriffing well that he would give his troopers this.

After all, even if he didn't give in, they might well find a way to get what they wanted, without consulting him. Better to do something like that in a situation where he had at least a little bit of control over the whole thing.

They'd jumped the chain of command before, for things they felt were important enough and 'not immediately urgent enough to bother the General with'. Cody had, for example, admitted that he'd authorised a few requisitions for extra medical supplies after a particularly hard string of campaigns on his own authority as Marshal Commander, when Ben had pressed him hard enough in search of an answer to his questions.

Finding a way to pry his younger self back out of their arms once the _Vod'e_ got to him would be the most difficult part, he knew. They wouldn't want him to go back to Coruscant, and something told Ben his younger self wouldn't want to go.

That comment Master Dooku had made about his younger self _wanting to meet his brothers_.

Kriff, that had instantly made the _Vod'e_ go on high alert, for all that they'd been just as stunned to hear the words as Ben had been. Not a single one of them would be willing to stand down from this fight, now.

'Young Obi-Wan' _would_ be coming to Mandalore, if they had anything to say about it whatsoever.

And none of that came anywhere close to addressing the fact that his _buir_ and Jango would have so many questions for him.

" _Ad'ika_?" His _buir_ 's voice pulled him back out of his thoughts.

"Yes?" Ben made himself refocus on their preparations. "Is there some new issue to resolve, _buir_?"

"We'll be deploying in a quarter of an hour," he reminded Ben with a hint of amusement in his tone. "The _jetiise_ and my _verd'e_ are in place, and Master Dooku has reminded that padawan of Jinn's to stay out of the way of the fighting. Comm your _vod'e_."

At kriffing last.

With a nod, Ben did just that, opening the line on their private comms that would connect him to Cody.

"General," his Commander responded immediately, "is something wrong?"

"What's wrong, Cody," he replied, hearing the smirk in his voice, "is that you and the _Vod'e_ aren't here."

Cody huffed at him, but Ben was sure he was already on his feet and the others on his heels. "You were the one who ordered us confined to quarters, sir," he retorted. "We're moving out?"

Ben could feel the flood of fierce battle readiness and protective anger from Waxer. No doubt the others felt much the same. "We are. Dropships are loading up as we speak."

Cody's voice neatly communicated the savage anticipatory grin on his own face. "We're on our way, sir. Be nice to have a chance to blast a few things."

"See you soon, Commander." With a fond shake of his head, Ben closed the line.

Jango caught Ben's attention with a tilt of his bucket. "Telling you not to do anything stupid would be useless," he said quietly, and reached out to put a hand on Ben's shoulder, over his still-improperly worn surcoat and gorget. "So do us a favour and don't make us have to come haul you out of trouble."

Ben laughed, caught off guard, and allowed himself to turn in and briefly wrap an arm around his _ori'vod_. "I can make no promises, but I'll see what I can do," he replied. "Remember what I told you about the hazards. Mines really _are_ dangerous places, especially when you're not familiar with the layout and blaster bolts start flying."

Cody and the _Vod'e_ joined them then, clustering around the three of them, and all but vibrating with the need to get moving.

"General?" Waxer asked for his attention, "which dropship are we assigned to?"

"The one just behind you. We'll be heading for the air shaft farthest from the main entrance. _Buir_ , _ori'vod_ , their teams of _verd'e_ , and the Jedi are taking the other dropships, and the respective pilots already know which of the four landing zones they're aiming for," he answered, recapping the plan quickly for everyone, out of ingrained habit.

Cody nodded. "Let's strap in, then. The sooner we get Crys and Longshot back, the better."

"That, I can't disagree with," their _buir_ muttered, "but I still don't like this plan."

"It'll work out fine," Ben told him.

The assertion got him a crooked smile he could feel rather than see behind the bucket his _buir_ wore. "Your Force senses telling you that, _ad'ika_? Or your optimism?"

Cody snorted. "Neither, _buir_. That's experience. You'll see."

The _Vod'e_ turned as one and climbed into the waiting dropship, claiming seats strategically placed right beside the sliding doors. Ben gave his _buir_ and Jango a nod. "If you run into any heavy resistance, let us know. We'll do what we can to lighten it," he offered, then followed his Commander and his men.

"I should be the one saying that," the _Mand'alor_ grumbled, then shook his head and headed off to get onto his own assigned dropship. 

As he took his place with his men and their _buir_ left to board his own assigned dropship, Ben heard at least one of the _Vod'e_ quietly start singing their favoured war chant, and wasn't sure who'd started it. The others joined in quickly, keeping their voices low as they habitually did, but needing to partake of their pre-battle ritual.

 _Bal kote, darasuum kote,_  
_Jorso'ran kando a tome._  
_Sa kyr'am nau tracyn kad, Vod'e an._

Before they'd finished the first verse, the dropships were lifting off, gracefully swooping out of the _Vigilant_ 's hangar and out into open space.

The knowledge that there were only five _Vod'e_ wading into this particular battle had definitely only made it all the more important to them, and as they finished Ben could feel the way their determination resonated around them in the Force.

Watching the surface of the moon loom closer through the small viewports in the side of the dropship, Ben tried to center himself for the coming fight. As much as the themes of vengeance that were threaded through the chant had always made him uncomfortable, Ben had found that the way it calmed and focused his men was a useful tool, both in and out of battle. It seemed to be how his _Vod'e_ centered themselves. He himself -- he took a steadying breath and released as much of his rising tension as he could -- had other methods at his disposal.

Master Dooku would be touching down with his team the moment their pilot signaled that he and his men had reached their infiltration point, as would Master Plo and the rest of the knights, and they would stage the distraction that would get the _verd'e_ in to help clean out the rest of the mine.

All he and his _Vod'e_ had to do was get the prisoner evac dealt with, and then... He smiled, knowing it would be just as fierce as his Commander's expression. _Then_ they could wreak as much havoc as they wanted. Provided there was anything left to destroy.

"General?" Cody prompted him. "You're a bit distracted. Everything alright?"

"Copacetic." Ben answered, and meant it.

His Commander snorted. "You still haven't fixed your surcoat properly," he pointed out.

Oh. Right.

Sweeping it back off his shoulders, Ben threw it over a nearby seat and started undoing his belt and his cape. He might, he made a mental note, ask Ardanna for a new cape in a contrasting colour. Perhaps it would be fitting if he wore a bit more 212th gold.

Before he could make a move to pick the surcoat back up, Cody was there, settling it back over his shoulders with a sort of reverence that made Ben feel a sharp twinge of longing for that which wasn't allowed them.

And then, almost as quickly, his belt and cape were back in place, and the _Vod'e_ were giving him a look of mixed awe and appreciation.

Settling the surcoat a bit more comfortably, so that he could move without it catching on anything, Ben nodded. "Thank you, Commander."

"Anytime, General."

"Drop coming up in t-minus two minutes," the pilot announced, breaking the moment. "Stand by."

Checking the sabre at his hip, Ben watched as his men all reflexively did their own checks -- blasters, HUD, comms, assorted other supplies -- and then formed up around him.

The pilot knew they would be jumping out at altitude, so that she wouldn't even have to land, and had seen them train before, so thankfully that suggestion hadn't caused too much of an uproar during the planning phase of this campaign. Far more important to Ben -- and, surprisingly, his _buir_ had agreed with him fairly quickly -- was that the dropships should be kept as undamaged as possible for their extraction, later.

"Shall we dance," Ben suggested casually as he watched the light above the sliding door intently, waiting for it to shift green, signaling that they could jump.

All of his _Vod'e_ laughed.

"Yes, let's," Cody agreed. "We'll even let you lead."

His timing, as was often the case, was perfect. The moment Cody finished speaking, the light flashed green, and Ben forewent answering in favour of slamming his palm down on the switch that would open it.

Mere instants later, he and his five men were falling towards the dark grey surface of the moon as the dropship soared away from them overhead with a low, bass roar of sublight engines that Ben felt resonating in his bones.

Ben wrapped himself and his men in the Force as they dropped, slowing their fall gradually until they alit on the ground lightly as gossamer seeds.

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

“Almost time, _verd’e_ ,” Jaster said to the sentients of Headhunter Company. These were his own troops, and they were used to working with him. 

Master Plo was flying next to them in his fighter. He’d insisted that he could help by taking out any anti-aircraft artillery, and after that he would land and join Jaster’s team. 

Jaster had tried to convince him to go with another group, hoping that some of his _verd’e_ would be better protected with a master _jetii_ by their sides. Master Plo had refused, stating that since Master Dooku was taking the most dangerous approach it fell to him, as Jedi Councilor, to guard the _Mand’alor_. 

That was probably even true to a degree. Jaster was willing to bet that Master Plo wanted to personally ensure that Ben’s family made it through the fight, no matter what. 

Ben and his dropship had already peeled off. They were flying high and quiet, dropping down from a distance that Jaster tried very hard not to think about. Their pilot was to give them five minutes to get into their planned infiltration position and then the frontal assault would start.

Master Dooku was waiting in his own dropship with Vengeance Company; they had heavy troopers and long range shooters ready to cover Dooku’s charge. Jango was with his Grunts and Knight Dorren, ready to drop down one of the other hastily located air shafts; they’d go in quiet, while Jaster went in hot as Dooku’s support. 

Master Jinn was with Vertigo Company, set to guide attacks on any sniper nests or unwelcome surface surprises that they might find; once they were done, they’d head down the air shafts to support Ben and his _vod’e_. The rest of the knights were distributed into the companies, assigned squads to work with.

Jaster had heard Knight Ka’vah joking with her assigned _verd’e_ as they were all preparing. The conversation was strained, but he appreciated that she made the effort. Some of the knights hadn’t bothered. Jinn’s padawan, thankfully, would be waiting with the medteam and ships. Maybe luck would shine on them all and the kid would learn how to keep his mouth shut.

Plans flashed through Jaster’s mind on repeat, checking and rechecking that he’d thought of every possible angle of attack. 

Longshot and Crys. His _ad’e_ were down there. Hurt. Alone save for the other _ad'e_ they suspected that Death Watch was keeping captive there. Kriff, if it turned out that those fingers had come from any of the _ad'e_ who were with Crys and Longshot, Jaster wouldn't hesitate to tear the whole mine apart. He knew down to his bones that all of his _verd'e_ would be right there with him. 

He was getting his children back.

He didn’t want to trade lives for them, but in this, Jaster was blessed. His _verd’e_ had come to respect and admire the eight little ones as much as Jaster had. The _Mando’ad’e_ were with him on this. He hoped that no one would die here today, but if they did it wouldn’t be anything so base as a _transaction_. 

It was The Way. 

_Aliit_ would protect their own, and the _aliit_ 's foundlings were the priority. The foundlings were the future. 

The comm came through from Ben’s dropship pilot.

“Time to go!” he shouted over the thrum of the ship’s engines. Butterflies filled his stomach as they rapidly descended, giving them as fast a launch as they could. 

The sound of blasterfire and canons already filled the air. He slammed the bay door switch as soon as the light went green. 

Master Dooku was already on the ground, batting aside blaster fire like their enemies were shooting foam balls at him instead of deadly energy bolts. The sky behind him lit up with the orange flare of jet packs as _verd’e_ landed down behind him. The night glowed with the crossfire, nearly as bright as day. 

They, and the entrance, were located at the base of the mountain. Death Watch likely thought that this gave their entrenched _verd’e_ the advantage of the high ground. Clearly, they weren’t expecting _jetii_ -guided rocket launchers and missiles. 

“ _Oya manda_!” Jaster called out. Jet packs howled to life all around him as he and his _verd’e_ joined the fray. They dropped down behind the main entrance, in between that location and the first airshaft. He could just make out the dark forms of the other companies and their _jetiise_ falling silent and dark in the distance farther up the mountain, aided in making stealthy landings by the Force. 

Plo’s fighter screamed by overhead, strafing the mountain at a terrifyingly low altitude. Explosions echoed in rocks and trees. Jaster’s HUD picked up one, then two different Death Watch ships now in ruins.

He and his _verd’e_ rained down fire on the main entrance below them. 

Master Dooku was almost at the door. Sith-hells, but the man was a force of nature. Ben was frighteningly skilled; anyone who had ever seen him in action knew that he was dangerous. But Master Dooku _looked_ menacing. His dark robes blended into the shadows cast by his own blue blades and all the blaster fire that they deflected. When he strode forward, it was with the air of noble disdain. As if all of this was _beneath him_.

It was profoundly unsettling. 

Soon, Jaster didn’t have time to think on it. The compound's front gates had slammed shut and every member of Death Watch that was stuck outside was either dead or captured.

He threw himself into a quick boosted jump and landed next to where Master Dooku was looking over the heavy blast doors that covered the mine entrance.

“It’s gonna take a hell of a lot of explosives to get that open,” Jaster’s new second, Darist, said. She’d been on his six for most of the flight, and had followed him right up to the door.

“No, it won’t,” Master Dooku said, looking down his nose at the thick plated metal.

He extinguished one of his blades and settled it on his belt. The other he gripped in both hands and then thrust straight into the door.

The metal melted around it, turning instantly into hot orange slag. Slowly and surely, Master Dooku dragged his blade through the doors, carving a hole large enough for three people to walk through while standing abreast. 

“Stand back,” Dooku said firmly. The _verd’e_ scrambled to comply.

Just as Master Dooku’s blade completed its path, he stepped back swiftly and held out an empty hand, grabbing the air in front of him.

There was the awful sound of twisting metal as the cut out piece of the blast doors floated out of the way before it could fall. Dooku flung his hand out, and the massive slab of metal flew off in the same direction, landing on the mountain side with a rumbling _crash_ . 

Another gesture ripped the remains of the blast door off its frame, leaving the half-melted, half twisted chunks splayed open. 

_Kriff_.

The moment the doors were off, blaster fire erupted from inside. Master Dooku deflected it with ease, aiming the return bolts right back into the mine.

Master Plo jumped down from… somewhere. Likely, he’d just Force jumped over from wherever he’d parked his fighter.

“How rude of them, not to invite us in. We knocked so politely,” Master Dooku said to Master Plo with a sardonic smirk.

“Terrible manners,” Master Plo replied, deadpan, igniting his blade to join in with the deflection of blaster bolts. “We should educate them.”

“Let’s,” Master Dooku nodded regally.

The two dashed in at the same moment. Unwilling to let them go in alone, Jaster was right behind them. He waved his _verd’e_ to follow.

“ _Mand’alor_ , these _jetiise_ are all kriffing crazy,” Darist said to him as they charged in.

 _Don’t I damn well know it_ , Jaster thought. He didn’t have time to respond. Master Dooku and Master Plo were cutting ahead too quickly, clearing out the tunnels with alarming efficiency. 

Jaster was suddenly reminded of Korda VI, of Ben jumping headlong into a battlefield, trusting his _vod’e_ to have his back. It was clear that Master Dooku and Master Plo didn’t actually expect the _verd’e_ to bolt in after them; they just ran forward, confident that nothing could touch them.

 _Di’kut’e_.

“Clean up the halls, _verd’e_ ,” Jaster ordered, waving his people forward. “Make sure no one gets out to spread the warning.”

If this attack went well, then they’d have officers to interrogate, and more camps to raid. The sooner, the better. 

Hopefully, Jaster would have his _ad’e_ all safe and sound, too. 

\--

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

The air shaft they would be infiltrating through was just off to their left, and Ben carefully reached out with his Force senses. No one nearby on the surface. Three men on the first level below them, six more on the next one. A larger group of Force signatures -- including Crys and Longshot, who were pouring relief and welcome through him -- were also on the second level down.

Ben caught his men's attention and started signing, letting them know what he'd learned. All five readied their blasters. _Ready when you are, General,_ his Commander signed back.

The security measures in place on the airshaft they'd be taking advantage of to infiltrate the mine were lackluster at best. At the surface, there was a simple grating that he simply lit his 'sabre and sliced through, and that was it. Using his 'sabre to illuminate the narrow shaft, Ben peered down through the dimness, looking for any further obstacles. There was another grating -- he could just barely make it out visually -- about ten meters below the surface. That one, he simply grabbed a hold of with the Force, and crumpled into a ball before lifting it out of the shaft and tossing it over his shoulder.

 _Path clear?_ Cody signed at him.

Ben shrugged back. _Unconfirmed but likely._

Wrapping the five of them back up in the Force, he lifted them up and began carefully lowering them down the air shaft. Not having to use their jetpacks had the advantage of rendering their appearance perfectly silent in addition to eliminating the danger of accidentally touching off a pocket of flammable gas.

Cody, as was his right, went in first, and Ben gently guided him to the second level down.

Waxer followed his Commander, and then Boil, and Ben made sure that his men would get their boots on the floor while as few enemies were around as possible. The three of them began roving around the narrow, dimly lit passageways, taking out the men patrolling the area, as Ben lowered the last two _Vod'e_ into the air shaft to join them. 

Without a word needed, Wooley and Helix left the job of dealing with the men on the second level of the mine to their Commander and his backup, instead turning their attention to getting the door of the holding pens open.

That knowledge sent a bad feeling of foreboding shuddering through Ben, and he hastily Force jumped down the air shaft to join them, his 'sabre all but jumping into his hands.

Something was wrong. _Danger approaching,_ his senses were screaming at him, despite their stealthy entrance.

In a corner of his awareness, he felt Waxer, Crys and Longshot react as though they'd been stuck with a hypospray unexpectedly, going wary and guarded in that way Ben associated with _Vod'e_ who were trying to pinpoint their enemies' positions.

He landed lightly just in time for a second patrol of six men to come hurrying down the narrow corridor of the horizontal gallery and stumble over their knocked out compatriots.

"Chieftain Vizsla was right," one of them said, and a second swore, "someone's here."

A third growled. "That flashy fight at the entrance was a diversion!"

There was little for it now.

Ben stepped out into the center of the corridor, and let the adrenaline starting to flood through him carry him along. "Looking for me, gentlemen?" he asked calmly, as he ignited his 'sabre.

A shout of _jetii!_ went up, and they all turned their blasters on him.

Laughing and enjoying the fact that that only served to make them madder, Ben simply waited, blocking or deflecting the shots that came at him and the pair of _Vod'e_ behind him, in keeping with their promise to use non-lethal force where possible. "I'll take that as a yes," he added, keeping their attention firmly on himself.

Any moment now --

Blaster shots that went unheard in the commotion flared from behind the group of enemies that had discovered them, and three of them went down immediately, stunned into unconsciousness. The other three followed in short order.

"Any further resistance likely to come at us, General?" Cody asked him, stepping delicately over the sprawled bodies.

Ben reached out with the Force again, and shrugged. "Hard to say. The three men on the level above us are alerted, but don't seem inclined to come join us at the moment. They're probably laying an ambush intended to stop us from getting the prisoners out, I'd imagine. The rest of the Death Watch I can sense are either several levels away and fighting the _verd'e_ or occupied at the main entrance by the Jedi assault."

"Finally. Kriffing thing's open," Wooley swore, relief in his voice. "Helix? You're up."

Cody, Waxer, and Boil hurried over, taking up positions that allowed them to defend the door while Helix and Wooley retrieved their two _Vod'e_.

Confident that they would call for his help if he was needed, Ben followed Helix into the room, holding his 'sabre aloft to light the way. He had to grit his teeth against the memories and the wash of emotion that went with them. Had to fight not to let himself feel oddly cold and very smooth, uncalloused hands on his face and neck. Swallow against the bile that rose in his throat as he heard Xanatos' voice echo through his mind, the actual event decades in the past, yet far too immediate to be easily dismissed.

Waxer swore, somewhere behind him, and someone else joined in, in the dimness of the room. Two someones, in fact. Ben winced, throwing another layer of shields on his Force bonds with his _Vod'e_. He hadn't meant for them to see _that_.

Somewhere ahead of him, in the dimness of the room, a pair of figures got slowly to their feet, pain in the sets of their shoulders. "General?"

Helix hurried over to them and started hurriedly checking them over, muttering fierce invective over the shock collars on them and the -- thankfully superficial -- injuries he kept finding. Shoving his memories as far out of his mind as he could manage and clearing his throat, Ben nodded, "We're here, _Vod'e_ ," he said, "and we're breaking you out. Everyone in here. Can all of you walk?"

Off in the distance, he felt an explosion rip through the mine, the detonation making the floor tremble underfoot and parts of the mine's structure groan, strained. In the Force, one of the Jedi knights screamed, and Ben flinched hard. _No! Force, please--_

Before he could gather himself enough to reach out and make sure the knight was alright -- or at least, Force help him, _alive_ \-- a second scream slammed into him. Through him.

 _He was down, flat on his back and fighting for breath, his entire body trembling under the strain of his injuries. He could barely think, barely breathe through the pain of losing his arm and his lek and he felt blind and helpless and his 'sabre was out of reach. The unknown man in black armour had caught him by surprise, far more skilled with that strange black lightsabre he carried than anyone but a Jedi should be. Ben swallowed hard, not ready to die, but unwilling to let it happen without getting out a warning--_

The vision cut off. 

Another knight down. Badly injured and possibly dead. That time by Tor Vizsla's hand. The image that had hit him, the injured knight sending it to anyone in range with all the strength he had left, had been almost enough to make him sick. 

Ben found himself on his knees, gasping for air, with a very worried Wooley kneeling in front of him and holding him up.

"General!" He was calling out, worry and urgency in his voice, sounding like it wasn't the first time he'd tried to get Ben's attention.

Shaking his head, he forced his way back to his feet. "I'm alright, _Vod'e_ , I'm alright. I just… needed a moment."

Longshot gave him a disbelieving look, but apparently was willing to set aside what had happened for discussion later. "The two of us are mobile," he said, "but some of the others here aren't. General, Tor Vizsla is _here_ and he knows you'll be coming straight for us. You need to get the kriff back out of this room and back to the Commander."

Crys nodded. "Helix can patch up the wounded who can't walk, and we'll stick with you. You need the intel we couldn't give you at distance."

Helix made an unhappy sound at that, but didn't actively protest. They had a definite time limit, even if they had no idea what it was, exactly.

Ben shook his head. "We already got targeted once by some Death Watch that Vizsla sent our way; he won't succeed, Longshot. Point out the people who can't walk and I'll Force lift them and Helix back out of here. They'll be fine on the surface until we can move everyone else up there to join them. And once we're done here, we need to get to Master Plo or Master Dooku. Doesn't matter. I'll even take _buir_ or the _verd'e_. There are two knights down and we have to get them out of here as soon as kriffing possible, if we can get to them. They're alive for the moment, but in critical condition."

A low worried murmur started up around him, the remaining prisoners suddenly realising that not only was he a Jedi, but he would be using his Force powers on them to get them out. They were -- understandably -- a bit nervous about that.

On the other hand, Helix simply turned and swore at him. When he turned to the pair of injured _Vod'e_ , he added, "You two _or'dinii_ had better be kriffing careful. You're not armoured up and you're hurt."

"We'll keep an eye on them, _Vod_ ," Wooley promised. "Don't worry."

Muttering under his breath the whole time, Helix allowed Ben to put his plan into action. As it turned out, there were three older teens in need of medevac. All three had been savagely beaten, bruises littering the exposed skin Ben could see. One was badly concussed and couldn't seem to so much as open his eyes, though he was conscious. More or less. Helix had hissed in displeasure to see that. The second had a broken leg and simply physically couldn't get out under his own power. The third... Ben wasn't quite sure, but he suspected the third had been shocked into unconsciousness with her collar. Helix had taken one look at her injuries and sworn at length, cursing Vizsla and his ancestors back as many generations as he could manage. Ben winced, shoving his memories back down again and getting twin worried looks from Crys and Longshot. They'd have to keep a close eye on that teen and make sure she kept breathing. Kriff.

Crys stepped between him and the sight of Helix quickly working to stabilise the three of them as best he could on the spot. "They tried to keep Vizsla from coming at us, sir," he said quietly. "The kriffing Death Watch knew exactly who we were and wanted to _persuade_ us to talk and spill secrets."

Longshot prodded Crys and Wooley both in the direction of the door, starting them walking. "One thing at a time, _Vod_ ," he told Crys. "Let the General get the injured out, and then we'll deal with the intel."

Ben nodded. "It won't take long," he promised. "Helix needs a couple more minutes, and then I need about thirty seconds for the rest of that task."

He turned to face the rest of the claustrophobic room's occupants. There were another five young teens of varying ages in the space, but his _Vod'e_ were definitely the youngest present by far.

Small wonder the eldest had tried to shield them, Ben thought to himself, even as he wondered what had become of their families.

"General?" Helix asked for his attention. "I can't do much more for them with what's in my field kit."

"It's time to get you out of here, then," Ben said, and reached out to ever so gently lift the three of them up off the dirty, dusty floor. He carefully ignored the way he could feel their Force signatures flicker and flare. "Come with us," he said to the others, resolving that he would make sure these three _mando'ad'e_ could live and thrive, "we'll get you out. The _Mand'alor_ and his _verd'e_ have our backs."

And with that, he turned his attention to carrying the injured back out of the room. It took only a fraction of his focus, and he turned the rest back to scanning the area around them with his Force senses. His physical ones were next to useless in an environment like this.

What he found -- Ben wanted to swear -- wasn't ideal. Master Dooku and his group of mixed Jedi knights and _verd'e_ had apparently met up with Master Plo and their _buir_ and the lot of them were working together to clear out the lower levels of the mine with alacrity. Above him, in the uppermost gallery, Master Qui-Gon had just finished dealing with the three Death Watch that he and his _Vod'e_ had simply avoided on their way into the mine.

There was a sizable group of Death Watch engaging their _buir_ and nine of his _verd'e_ four levels below them. But worst of all, a second group of Death Watch, nearly as big as the one fighting the _Mand'alor_ and his men, was headed their way. Fast.

Moving quickly, himself, Ben used his hold on the Force to guide the three badly injured teens out of the room and back up the air shaft, setting them down on the dark grey ground just beyond. He grabbed for Helix a moment later and sent the _Vod_ after them, giving him a quick boost and then letting him go, their flight training drill in action.

The rest of the teens were cautiously following along behind him, still a bit wary, though the mention of the _Mand'alor_ had convinced most of them that this truly was an officially sanctioned rescue, despite the presence of at least one _jetii_.

Ben turned to them, and said, "We have to get you out of here, _now._ A group of Death Watch _verd'e_ is on its way here, and you'll be vulnerable if there's any fighting."

One of the youngest ones, a girl of about 13 standard years, asked, "Do we have to fly, too?"

"I'm afraid so," he said, "I won't let you fall. I promise."

Longshot turned to her and put in, "The General keeps his word, Isabet." 

The girl, Isabet, nodded, looking a trifle frightened, but didn't object. "Alright," she said, swallowing hard and squaring her shoulders. "Getting out of this place is worth almost anything."

The others behind her nodded, and, effectively given permission, Ben grabbed for them gently, too, and sent them up the air shaft one by one, as quickly as he could manage without risking frightening them too badly.

Thank the Force, it wasn't a long distance.

Isabet, who'd insisted the others all go up before she did, turned to Ben when he picked her up and whispered a quiet 'thank you'.

He gave her a nod, and started moving her, feeling time slipping through his fingers like water. He had to hurry, he had to --

Cody, still standing guard on the door, swore viciously, and blasterfire erupted in the narrow confines of the air shaft. All four armed _Vod'e_ returned fire, each of their shots finding its mark, but they were vastly outnumbered and outgunned.

Continuing to lift Isabet, Ben stepped out into view, letting his 'sabre light the walls like a beacon. "Decided to show your face like a man, Tor?" he taunted, secure in the knowledge that was who he faced.

A low angry growl answered him, and with a flare of his jetpack's thrusters, Vizsla appeared out of the gloom, landing nimbly on the far side of the air shaft that pierced the floor of the gallery they were in. Levels deeper below, Ben could hear the sounds of more blaster shots and the reassuring hum of lightsabres.

"Wish I had my own blaster right now," Crys muttered, tucking himself into a sheltered corner behind Waxer.

"Me too, _Vod_ ," Longshot agreed fervently. "Force only knows how badly maintained these have been."

Despite their disparaging remarks, neither of them hesitated to grab for one of the weapons lying discarded on the floor, dropped by the Death Watch that Cody and his backup had stunned only minutes before. 

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Yan deftly stabbed the shoulder of another Death Watch warrior, side stepping incoming fire as he did so. 

Given his expertise in combat, Yan was frequently sent on missions like this. His specialty was lightsabre to lightsabre duels but he was formidable in all aspects of battle. This wasn’t even close to the first civil war that he’d lead the charge on. Raiding a mining facility wasn’t all that different from any number of other kill missions he’d taken on over the years.

The Jedi Council didn’t like to call them that. Kill missions. It was the truth, though. 

In deference to the shaky agreement that the _Mand’alor_ had made with the New Mandalorians, Yan kept his attacks to non-lethal ones as much as possible. It wasn’t much of a challenge. 

Some of their opponents fought like warriors with a cause. Some fought like cornered animals. He tried to be clean and kind to the ones that felt like fear and desperation and hopelessness. Sometimes a person could get involved with a dangerous group and simply not know how to escape. 

The ones that had the sickly feeling of fanaticism about them, those he was less forgiving with. 

He could feel Master Plo fighting nearby. They’d spread out in the tunnels along with the _Mand’alor_ and his people, clearing every pathway as they went. Twice already, Yan had had to use the Force to stop frantic Death Watch soldiers from detonating something.

Ben had been right about that. They had placed bombs, and thanks to Ben’s assessment of what areas of the mine would be most vulnerable to damage, Yan knew exactly where to look for them. 

It wasn’t enough.

An explosion shook the mine, sprinkling dirt down onto everyone’s head. Pain screamed into the Force. It was Knight Lara’guz, a newly knighted guardian. This wasn’t her first mission, but she’d only been on a few so far. The council had considered this one low risk given the sheer number of Jedi being sent. 

_Damn_. 

Yan deflected another blaster bolt on reflex, extended his senses, and hoped.

Still alive. She was still alive, if only barely. Her life force felt like a flame close to blowing out. Yan let out a breath. There was still hope.

No sooner had he almost gotten his bearings back, than there was another scream in the Force. A second knight, Knight Xen, howled in agony. With the wave of pain came the image of a Mandalorian in Death Watch colors wielding a black bladed lightsabre. 

It was a warning. Tor Vizsla was here and he was trying to kill the Jedi.

White hot rage flared in Yan. He let it rush through him, present but not controlling his actions. He was a Jedi Master. _He_ ruled his mind. Nothing else. 

The Force crackled around him like lightning. He kept it in check even as he sped up his attacks. Perhaps he was less cautious now. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was stopping Vizsla from hurting anyone else. Especially not the pure beacons of Light that the young knights were. They had offered everything that they had to save lives. Yan _would not_ let any more of them be hurt.

He spared no thought for the warriors following him. They would catch up or they would not. It didn’t matter. Yan was a storm in the Force, moving with deadly surety. Obstacles were flung out of the way long before he got near them. Most blaster bolts he didn’t even bother to deflect. He simply _bent_ the Force around him so that the bolts rebounded harmlessly.

It was a costly move. One that he knew he would pay for later.

 _He did not care_.

Tor Vizsla wouldn’t claim any more lives today.

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

He watched Tor carefully, remembering his last duel with the man and well aware that he was being very annoying. "What are you doing over there?" He asked, pretending surprise. "If you want to attack me, you'll have to come over here to do it."

Vizsla snorted, stalking towards him with intent in his bearing. "Kriffing _jetii_ ," he muttered. "I should have killed you right in front of Mereel."

Ben laughed and Tor stopped moving, suspicious. "Yes, you should have. You won't get the chance today."

The darksabre flared to life in Vizla's hands like a blade of black flame. "You think so, _jetii_?" He asked with a sinister chuckle of his own. "Come prove me wrong, then."

As if in response to the words, a squad of Death Watch came shooting up out of the darkness of the air shaft to join their leader and formed up behind and around him.

Ben watched them pull out their blasters, and fell into a ready stance automatically. "I don't have to," he said, beginning to almost idly block the blasterfire that met his words.

That got a snarl out of Vizsla as another few men in black-painted armour and Death Watch sigils on their shoulders appeared from the levels below. " _Buir_ ," one of them said, "it's become a rout, we have to _go_."

Before anyone could react to that, a lightsabre hissed almost ominously to life behind the group that had been shooting at Ben, and he wanted to grin. "Nice of you to join us, Master Dooku," he quipped, blocking another few blaster bolts.

A beat later, there was a surge in the Force, and a visibly furious Master Dooku stepped into view. Tor Vizsla floated a few inches up off the floor and was abruptly slammed backwards into the wall.

Stunned, the Chieftain didn't move for a beat, but his _verd'e_ and his son Pre formed up around him in a defensive huddle, now firing at the second Jedi master who'd -- as far as they knew -- dropped down out of thin kriffing air to attack their leader.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for all the credits on Coruscant," Master Dooku purred, simply _ignoring_ the blasterfire. All of it was redirected around him, deflected through an elegant but brute-force application of the Force.

Pre Vizsla tried to slip away into the darkness, and, feeling no remorse about it at all, Ben simply Force shoved him back against the wall opposite his father. "Leaving the party so soon, Pre?" He asked, mock-sympathetically. He let his voice assume the almost simpering tones he used at diplomatic functions. "You really should stay for dessert."

Keeping his own lightsabre raised and ready, he began advancing slowly toward the group of Death Watch that took frightened steps backwards for each one he took forwards… or tried to. They soon discovered that Ben was pushing them toward Master Dooku with his advance and then dithered, trying to decide which one of them was scarier.

The _Vod'e_ advancing behind Ben took the opportunity to stun the lot of them, their shots meeting their marks without fail until only Pre and Tor were still conscious.

Ben couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his men and their efficiency.

Tor shook off most of his daze, then, with a groan, and fought his way back to his feet. "Come fight me like a man," he challenged, "instead of hiding behind your kriffing _jetii_ Force tricks."

"You want a fair fight, do you?" Master Dooku asked, disdain all but dripping from his voice. "Very well. Come at me, then. No Force tricks. Let us see who is more skilled with a blade."

" _Buir_ \--" Pre tried again. 

"No, _ad_ ," Vizsla cut him off. "This is a challenge I must answer."

Master Dooku retreated a few long steps down the length of the gallery, until he'd reached a spot that wasn't littered with unconscious men that they might trip over. Tor followed him, a determination and fury radiating off him that very nearly matched Master Dooku's in intensity, and Ben had to wonder just what had happened to make Master Dooku quite this angry.

Whatever it was, it must've been big.

Watching the sheer _ferocity_ of the blows the two of them started trying to land on one another, Ben had to wince.

Definitely something big. Master Dooku wasn't holding back. He executed a delicate looking thrust here, a weightless, utterly precise flick of the wrist there... but Ben could tell that there was very real intent behind the deft movements.

Tor met or dodged every blow, his own skill evident, and tried to land a hit that would at least allow him to disable his opponent. Master Dooku had the superior reach, and was much faster, but Tor had what felt like sheer berserker rage fueling him.

Pre, for all that Ben knew he was just as amoral as his father, seemed to be willing to abide by the rules of combat that applied to challenges. So far, at least.

The feel of his emotions in the Force, though. He was up to something, Ben was sure of it. Planning some kind of escape, in all likelihood.

And then, with a suddenness that was shocking, considering how short the duel had been, Tor had been driven to his knees, clutching at his dominant arm. Ben swallowed hard at the sight of the injury. His hand had been severed at the wrist, and the Darksabre had rolled free across the floor of the gallery.

Master Dooku, his 'sabre at Tor's throat, simply demanded, "Surrender."

Vizsla snarled, "To a _jetii_? _Never!_ " And threw himself forward onto the glowing blade.

Master Dooku attempted to shut his 'sabre off, but it was already too late. Vizsla's death ripped through the Force and Ben staggered, reminded all too harshly of his past again by the combination of mines and deaths.

 _It's not the same,_ he reminded himself as the memories reared right back up again -- memories of being cold and dirty, of being beaten and tormented as the young rescued _mando'ad'e_ had been… of being willing to let the bomb collar he wore go off, if it saved other lives… 

Waxer let out a pained gasp, as though he'd been gut punched, and went down to one knee, fighting to stay upright. Crys and Longshot both groaned and fought for breath, stumbling and leaning against one another to keep from going down, themselves, under the weight of his emotions.

Distantly realising what was happening, Ben slammed heavier shields on his bonds with his _Vod'e_ and strained to get himself back into the here-and-now. _It's not the same. It's not the **same!**_

His Commander caught him by the waist, holding him up where he would have fallen and providing a much needed anchor. The rest of his _Vod'e_ , concerned, let their worry for him and each other dominate their focus just long enough for Pre to take advantage.

The younger Vizsla dove for the Darksabre, grabbed it, and flung himself down the air shaft he'd come up, vanishing silently into the darkness.

While he tried to regain his equilibrium, caught in Cody's worried hold, Wooley and Boil jumped down after Pre, swearing and cursing his ancestry.

Ben let Cody shore him up, reinforcing the shields on his bonds again, as he did. The last thing he needed was to accidentally inundate any of his _Vod'e_ with the emotions those memories engendered.

Master Dooku, looking suddenly very old and weary, let his shoulders slump as he stared down at Tor's body in disbelief.

"Why?" He asked, a measure of sadness in his tone that Ben had never heard before.

The pair of _Vod'e_ who'd dared to dive after Pre returned several long minutes later, empty-handed.

They'd won the day.

It wasn't clear yet what it had cost them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who would like to refresh their memories of the war chant the Vod'e favour or who simply don't yet know the translation, we offer this [link](https://lyricstranslate.com/en/vode-brothers-all.html).


	22. Chapter 22

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

The last five hours had been a blur of hurried action and reaction, and he felt weary right down to his bones. 

His General had had a bad reaction to seeing Tor Vizsla throw himself onto Master Dooku's 'sabre, that much was clear. Worse, whatever it had been, it had all but knocked the three _Vod'e_ bonded to him right out of the fight completely and left him leaning heavily on Cody for support.

Cody didn't hold back the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

And then, on their way back to the dropships, literally moments after they'd picked up Helix and his charges at the mouth of the air shaft they'd entered the mine through, the teen who'd been shocked into unconsciousness had taken a sudden turn for the worse, causing an intense scramble as Helix fought to keep her breathing long enough to get her onto the dropship and back to the _Vigilant_.

The General, still leaning heavily on him and with a faint tremble in his muscles that spoke of exhaustion about to catch up with him, had muttered something like 'no, I won't allow this', then stepped away from him. Kenobi had moved in close the moment Helix had dared let her go long enough to grab for the remnants of his gutted field kit, and done _something_ with the Force.

Cody didn't think it had been Force healing, but whatever it had been, it had given Helix enough breathing room to get her more or less stable again.

While they'd worked, Master Plo and Master Dooku had brought the two injured Knights back up to the surface, where they too could be triaged and treated. 

To no one's surprise, Crys and Longshot had been quickly patched up and released by the battlefield medics that their _buir_ had brought along. But the sight of the two knights who'd taken near-fatal wounds and the three badly injured teens they'd rescued had caused a _kriffing uproar_ among the medics, the _jetiise_ , and the _verd'e_ alike.

The injured had been rushed off to the _Vigilant_ with Jango, Kenobi and the _Vod'e_ as escort. They'd carefully loaded the trio into the dropship, and then General Kenobi had Force lifted the two badly wounded _jetiise_ into the transport alongside the three _mando'ad'e_.

Then the _jetiise_ had started planning.

Cody had overheard Masters Plo and Dooku very clearly stating that the three other camps they'd suspected existed prior to their landing _must_ be liberated, as well, and information dug up on any other such locations. The _verd'e_ had been in full agreement.

Cody had almost wanted to shake his head in wonder.

His General had, with a single ground campaign, proven to their _buir_ that he and Ghost Company most definitely did know how to plan that sort of assault, taken out Chieftain Vizsla the elder, made life politically _very kriffing difficult_ for Chieftain Vizsla the younger, retrieved his two missing _Vod'e_ , gotten the _verd'e_ and the _jetiise_ willingly working together, rescued enough young _mando'ad'e_ to make the campaign look extremely successful, and managed to orchestrate everything so that comparatively few people were killed or even seriously injured. Cody was sure Kenobi would take every meter of advantage he could of every last one of those factors to make the New Mandalorians cooperate with their _buir_ more.

Now, he glanced around the _Vigilant_ 's medical bay, checking on his _Vod'e_. It was still hard to believe they were all together again. Two weeks apart didn't sound like much, but it had felt like an eternity and Cody could tell none of his six troopers was willing to be separated from the others just yet. He wished he could join them, but someone had to keep watch as long as they weren't in their quarters, which they could adequately secure.

Now, some five standard hours later, the General was still stubbornly staying on his feet and doing any and everything he could to help the few casualties they'd taken on this campaign. The _jetiise_ and the _mando'ad'e_ had returned to the _Vigilant_ , having found nothing but empty long-abandoned mining camps at the other three locations. Their _buir_ and Master Dooku were interrogating those prisoners they suspected might have more information than the rest.

 _Now_ , Cody took a step forward at just the right moment to catch his General when Kenobi stumbled again.

"Cody! What are you doing here?" His General asked him, sounding a bit surprised to find him still on his feet.

"Keeping an eye on my men, and on you," Cody replied succinctly, and shoved Kenobi down into a chair that had been strategically placed between himself and Crys and Longshot, who were curled tightly around Waxer and Boil, respectively. "You're about to drop. Sit down for a few minutes."

"But I'm not finished--" Kenobi started to protest, then broke off when Helix growled at him.

"What you are, General Kenobi," their medic retorted, "is borderline exhausted, dehydrated, and in all kinds of calorie debt. Until you remedy at least two of those three things, I'm going to have to ask the Commander to keep you in that chair."

"Roger that, _Vod_ ," Cody accepted the implicit orders, and put his hands firmly onto Kenobi's shoulders. "Waxer, Crys, and Longshot all need to spend some time near you anyway, sir," he added, redirecting the protest he could see and feel Kenobi forming. "You've tended to all the others in the medbay. It's their turn."

That, he could tell, shut the General up pretty neatly.

Kenobi tipped his head back to scowl up at him. "If you expect me to share space with them, I'd much prefer to do that in our quarters," he said primly.

"Oh Force, please," Crys said in a rush, and the way his eyes darted to every door and grating and window spoke volumes for how unsettled he was.

Longshot simply nodded.

"Yeah," Waxer agreed. "We could all use some time in a defensible spot. Good idea, General."

"Agreed," Helix said with a decisive nod. "You six go get settled in. The Commander and I will arrange to have some meals and drinks delivered."

That was all it took to have the _Vod'e_ hauling the General back up out of his chair and all but frog-marching him out into the corridors of the cruiser.

Cody watched them go with a tired, aching sense of relief that seemed to soak into him all the way down to his bones. His _Vod'e_ were _back_.

Helix's arms were suddenly around him, and Cody choked on his next breath, turning to cling to the medic, who was one of his oldest friends. The emotions pouring into and through him left him shaking, his breath coming in harsh pants that weren't quite sobs. They caught on Helix's armour and exposed skin, leaving him feeling the warm wash against his own face, and somehow it only made him shakier.

"Easy, Commander," Helix said as his hands came up, one to the nape of his neck, warm, living skin against his. Grounding. A stable point he could focus in on. "I've got you, _Vod_. Just catch your breath. Follow mine, if you need to."

Cody let himself bury his face in Helix's neck more fully, blocking out the galaxy for a moment, the feeling of the armour Helix still wore -- nothing but his bucket and gauntlets discarded and the rest of him still reeking of disinfectant -- similar enough to home that it wasn't too jarring. The underlying smells of ozone and sweat, of armour and blood, of blaster oil and metal, all familiar and welcome. His eyes closed against his will, and he fought the tears that tried to escape. Those… those he might indulge later, in a more private setting. Maybe.

It took him another minute or so to get a hold of himself, but Helix didn't begrudge him a moment of it.

Once he took a deeper breath, finally calmer again, Helix's hand gave the muscle at the nape of his neck a comforting squeeze. "There, that's more like it. Come on. Check in with me, _Vod_."

Cody had to clear his throat twice before he could form words. " _Vor entye, Vod,_ " he said, quiet and putting all the gratefulness he could into his voice, replacing the words he would never speak unless he was _damned kriffing sure_ no one could overhear. "I'll be alright until I can get back to quarters."

Helix gave him a skeptical look, but didn't protest the statement further. "If that changes, you _will_ comm me."

With a huff and a small smile that was barely more than a twitch of his lips, Cody nodded. "Sir, yes sir," he said dryly, then started moving toward the door of the medbay knowing Helix would follow. "Let's get those meals you promised the others. I have a Jedi Master to speak to before I join the rest of you."

Helix gave him a sharp look as they walked through the medbay, only pausing to gather up their buckets and Helix's gauntlets. "About what he said to us just before the deployment?"

"No," Cody shook his head, but didn't let himself stop walking.

As they approached the doors they both crammed their buckets on automatically. He caught Helix's eyes through the T-visor he was slowly getting accustomed to seeing his _Vod'e_ wear and cued the private comm frequency that not even the rest of their _Vod'e_ were on. No one but Helix would hear whatever he said next. "Whatever happened down there, _Vod_ , it hit the General and all three of the _Vod'e_ he's bonded with. Hard. Given what happened the night he made those bonds, that kind of reaction can only mean he had another flashback or strong emotional reaction to something that he saw or felt happen in that mine. And _we_ can't help him with that, but..."

Helix nodded slowly. "But General _Buir_ might be able to," he finished the thought. "Alright, Commander, I can cover for you for a little while, but you'll have a maximum of about fifteen minutes to work with before the others and General Kenobi get too restless and come looking for you."

"Noted." Cody put a hand on Helix's shoulder. "Need a hand carrying things?"

"Nah, I'll get one of the kitchen staff or Jango." Helix waved him off. "You go find Master Plo. That's more important."

\--- POV: Plo Koon ---

Plo took a slow breath and fought the urge to adjust his antitox ventilator. It had been a long rotation, followed by a long fight and clean up, and now they were well into the next rotation. He called on the Force to help bolster his strength. There would be time later to rest. Soon, actually. 

Right now, he and Master Dooku were finishing up discussion on what to do about Knights Lara’guz and Xen. Knight Lara’guz had been caught in an explosion and had been partially crushed by falling rock. She had suffered a great deal of blunt force trauma; broken bones, lacerations, and crushed organs. Her condition was still critical.

Knight Xen had had one lek and one arm cut off. The arm could be replaced with cybernetics; the lost lek would be more difficult for Knight Xen to cope with. A great deal of sensory information was obtained and processed through a Twi’lek’s lekku, just as Plo’s own mandibles acted as extra sensory appendages. 

Neither one of them would be able to make the trip back to Coruscant. Not for a while at least. 

The _Mand’alor_ had immediately offered them space in Sundari to recover. It was a sincere offer, and one that his troops had echoed in the Force. He and his warriors all appreciated the knights' efforts and wanted to see them recuperate. 

Master Jinn, Padawan Xanatos, and the other knights were busy doing what they could to stabilize the wounded. None of them were Force healers, but every Jedi trained in the basics for just such emergencies.

Master Dooku looked as tired as Plo felt. Dooku had taken the near loss of the knights and Tor Vizsla’s suicide particularly hard. He ached in the Force, like a bruise. 

“Knights Dorren, Ka’vah, and Yuu will need at least a few hours rest before the next attack, which should give the _Mand’alor_ ’s people time to worm some information out of the captives,” Master Dooku said with a weary half-frown. He half-heartedly poked at one of the datapads. “And Xen and Lara’guz need a Force healer.” 

“It will take days for one to arrive.” They both knew that already. It bore repeating.

“If we’re sending for someone, we might as well ask for Master Che,” Dooku suggested. “She is one of the best. She’ll be able to help stabilize Knight Lara’guz for transport back to the Temple.”

Assuming that Knight Lara’guz lived that long. 

Plo sighed heavily and nodded. 

Before he could say anything else, their door chimed. 

It was Cody. Alone.

“Come in, youngling,” Plo said immediately. Since Ben had begun shielding his _vod’e_ , Plo hadn’t been able to get any kind of a read on them in the Force. Going by the youngling’s expression and body language, though, the matter was urgent.

“Forgive me for intruding, Masters,” Cody said formally. He moved stiffly and there were deep bags under his eyes. He held his helm under one arm; the position looked practiced, somehow. As if he were a soldier standing at parade rest. He and his _vod’e_ hadn’t slept since the battle, either, Plo was sure.

“Is everything alright?” Master Dooku sat up in alarm.

Cody shook his head and then nodded, as if his body couldn’t quite decide how to get out what his brain was telling him. The poor child was close to falling over. If he wasn’t on his way to bed after this, Plo would make sure that he would be headed in that direction.

“As fine as can be expected,” Cody said with a weary wave. “I’m sorry Master Dooku, but I was hoping to speak to Master Plo alone. Could I borrow a few minutes of his time? I won’t take long.”

Master Dooku stood up slowly and nodded. “Of course, youngling. Master Plo, I think I will take this opportunity to find something resembling food for us both.” 

Plo ushered Cody towards the vacated seat.

Before Master Dooku stepped out, he paused right near the door. “... Cody. Would this be about the Force bonds between you and your brothers?”

Cody stiffened quickly, and then covered the reaction with a neutral expression. But Master Dooku hadn’t turned around to look at them. He stood facing the door, with his back to Plo and Cody.

The silence stretched for a moment as Cody clenched his jaw and clearly debated about what to say.

Master Dooku shook his head. “It is of no great consequence. I do not mean to meddle in business that isn’t my own.” He nodded towards Plo, still without turning. “I will return in an hour. Cody, please get some sleep, and try to convince your stubborn General to do so as well.”

Then he took himself out.

Interesting. 

Plo was not surprised at all that Master Dooku had guessed about the Force bonds. Anyone could see that the children were all incredibly close. He must have seen other signs as well.

Master Dooku really was very clever. Focused, and adept at reading into the heart of the matters in front of him. 

He would make a good High Councilor. 

After the door had settled shut, Plo turned to Cody.

“How can I help you, youngling?” he asked.

Cody took a breath and a tiny bit of the tension in his body flowed out, leaving him slightly slumped in place. He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Plo could almost _see_ the way he was trying to work out exactly what he wanted to say.

“I think…” Cody dropped his hand and looked at Plo. “I think that you should request a Force healer to come here from the Temple.”

Plo blinked. Of all the things that he'd have expected to hear, that was not even close to the top of the list.

He folded his hands together and scrambled to come up with a reason for that particular request.

“May I ask why?” He finally managed.

But Cody was back to being unreadable. Tired, but closed off. The Force offered no hints to his emotional state.

“I think it would be wise, given the injuries sustained in the rescue,” Cody said.

“I… see.” Plo did not see. Nor did he like to think about how familiar Cody might be with life threatening injuries, that he knew what required a Force healer and what didn’t.

“I also think it would be wise for you to consider a Jedi healer with at least some experience with mind healing,” Cody continued gamely. 

Plo was baffled. 

“You have concerns?” Plo asked, in hopes that he might actually get something close to a real answer.

“I do.” Cody nodded. “The… the knights who were injured are very… young, aren’t they?”

As Plo was currently talking to a ten year old, he wasn’t sure that there was much room for the Commander to criticize, but as knights went, they were on the inexperienced side.

“Relatively, yes, I suppose,” Plo said. “This was considered a somewhat low risk mission.” Lots of back up. Several masters around to aid them. Dangerous, but not unreasonably so.

A terrible thought occurred to him.

“You and your brothers are alright?” Plo asked quickly.

“We’re uninjured,” Cody said, though not as dismissively as Plo would have liked. “It’s just…” He visibly gathered his thoughts. “The knights who almost died. That kind of injury, especially when one is so young, leaves more than physical scars.”

Plo suddenly got the inkling that they weren’t actually talking about the knights any more.

“It does,” he said slowly. “It can wound the spirit.”

“Yes, exactly,” Cody said with some relief.

That inkling grew to a certainty. The _vod’e_ were all war veterans, and Ben had mentioned things in the council room, things that Master Dooku had grimly relayed, that made Plo’s heart ache. On top of that, Plo knew just how connected Ben was to his brothers. He’d claimed that they were only _weak_ Force bonds, but Plo had his doubts. 

Whatever one felt, the others would likely feel to some degree. 

Ben had said he was enslaved in a mine. Two of his _vod’e_ had just repeated that experience. 

Plo wasn’t one hundred percent certain exactly whom Cody was requesting the healer for, but it hardly mattered. The request was there.

“You know,” Plo said slowly, “a good mind healer, especially a Force healer, is trained to help those close to an injured party as well.” He shifted in his seat and picked his words with care. “Sometimes, when one is... inexperienced. Young in their duties, like those knights, traumatic events can leave them unwilling to trust others, even a healer. But there are things that their loved ones can do to ease the strain. Those close to an injured party might also benefit from healing as well.”

Plo tilted his head in inquiry.

Cody sighed with relief and nodded. Excellent, that meant Plo was on target with his guesses.

“Yes, that would be useful. And I think it is important that it be a Jedi healer.”

“Oh?” That seemed obvious to Plo. He didn’t know any other groups that did Force healing.

“You Jedi have a very specific mindset,” Cody explained. “A culture and a set of expectations that the rest of us can only really guess at. An outside healer might not be able to understand, or offer the right kind of help. For the knights.”

Cody raised his eyebrows at Plo, clearly willing him to understand the implied message.

So it was Ben who was troubled, and the rest of the _vod’e_ found themselves scrambling to understand what was going on. Plo could guess why Cody wasn’t willing to outright say that. If it was something private enough that Ben hadn’t shared the matter with anyone else, but troubling enough that the _vod’e_ thought he needed to, for Cody to outright say that his General needed help would be a breach of privacy. Perhaps an unforgivable one.

Clever youngling, arranging all the resources to be available without commiting to why they were needed. And since Cody had never once mentioned Ben, and everything was in the context of the injured knights, this entire conversation had plausible deniability. 

“You are quite right, of course,” Plo said. Now that he’d figured out what the problem was, he felt better able to address it in the manner that it was presented to him. “And, you know, Jedi healers do not only treat those in the Order. Those younglings found along with your _vod’e_ were badly hurt, and all of them likely traumatized by the whole event. Perhaps they, and even your brothers, might benefit from speaking with a healer.”

Cody’s eyebrows went up in surprise and he nodded quickly. “Yes, that might help.”

“Given how you all are connected, it would make sense for you to support your _vod’e_ with the healer. It could help them feel more secure.” Plo was beginning to enjoy this. 

He and Master Dooku both were deeply concerned about the things that Ben had casually mentioned and equally casually dismissed as unimportant. Somewhere along the line, the Jedi Order as a whole had failed Ben. Especially if he was in enough distress that Cody was here, alone, quietly asking for a healer.

“Ben in particular would be able to help keep them calm,” Plo said, going in for the kill. 

Cody let out a relieved sigh and bowed his head a little. “Yes, I think you might be right.”

“I’ll put in my recommendation,” Plo assured him. “One I am sure that Master Dooku will second. Now, is there anything else I can help you with, youngling?”

Cody shook his head and stood up. “No, thank you, General _Buir_. We appreciate your help.”

Plo stood with him and rested a hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Alright. Thank you for coming to me with your concerns. You should go get some rest now. You cannot help your _vod’e_ , if you are falling over, yourself.”

To his mild surprise, Cody hugged him tight around the waist. “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure, youngling,” Plo said quietly as he ran his talons through Cody’s short hair. “Everything will be alright.”

\-- 

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

Looking back on it, he really wasn't entirely sure how they'd gotten back to their quarters. Only that they had. Boil and Wooley had to have guided them there, but he didn't really remember any of the movement between the medbay and their sleeping quarters.

All that had mattered to him had been having Crys and Longshot close, and being able to get close to the General, to get physical proof that he was alive, that he wasn't injured. Kenobi had flung up those impenetrable shields on their bonds again, and Waxer had felt the shock that act had sent through his other two bonded _Vod'e_.

Both of them had gone pale and quiet -- frightened and sad -- and Waxer had had to find the strength to bear up under that weight, in addition.

Their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ had come to check on them repeatedly, every time they'd had a few seconds free, since their return to the _Valiant_. Twice while Crys and Longshot were getting their superficial scratches and bruises patched up, and then four more times after that. All eight of them had gotten hugged each time -- well, all seven of them, seeing as the General had been keeping busy enough not to be hugged. Their _buir_ 's mouth had flattened out into a thin unhappy line each time that had happened. Jango had just scowled at Kenobi's back.

Having Wooley and Boil there to help keep everyone calm had helped immensely. Both of them had felt solid and warm and Waxer had clung to that knowledge like a limpet. Having the Commander standing guard while they'd been in the medbay had been its own kind of reassuring, too. He'd made a seemingly impenetrable bulwark against the rest of the world, and that had let Waxer relax incrementally. Until he'd been reminded that he desperately wanted some time bedded down with all his _Vod'e_ , and the mere thought had made his throat go tight.

Now, in the quiet and calm of their quarters, his armour stacked neatly off to one side with the others' and his arms wrapped around General Kenobi's waist while the General did what he could to calm Crys and Longshot… now, he finally felt himself unwind a little. Helix and the Commander would get them food, and Boil and Wooley were standing guard until their last two _Vod'e_ could get back to them and they could lock the world out.

He and his _riduur_ had meticulously checked their security measures and then reinforced them the moment they'd gotten back to their quarters. Once their door was barred, they would have all the privacy possible until they reopened it or someone on their whitelist commed them.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. "General?"

"What is it, Waxer?" Kenobi answered immediately.

"I know it's probably asking a lot right now," he said carefully, tentatively, "but it would help calm Crys and Longshot down a lot if they could feel you in the bond."

The General physically flinched. "Right. I--" He hesitated. "I didn't want to overwhelm you again."

Crys shook his head, rubbing his nose against the General's chest. "Don't care," he muttered. "Hate feeling like you're gone, even though you're right here."

Longshot nodded. "Confusing as anything else I've ever felt," he agreed, a bit more articulate.

Kenobi sighed, weary. "Alright, but if it starts to be too much I'm putting my shields right back up again. I'm-- that campaign was difficult. I'm _tired_."

Waxer couldn't help feeling that the Commander and Helix really should hurry the kriff up with whatever meal they were organising. He wasn't equipped to deal with this, and neither were Crys or Longshot. "We understand, General," he answered, knowing his weariness had to be audible.

Crys tucked himself in closer to their General, saying nothing, and Longshot followed suit.

After a beat, Waxer added, trying to work out what the Commander would have said, "Rest, sir. Let yourself recover. We'll stay right here until Helix and the Commander get back with our meals, and then all of us can eat and get some kriffing _sleep_. That will make everything better. The _verd'e_ and the _jetiise_ are all back on board, the casualties are taken care of, and both _buir_ and _ori'vod_ came through without a scratch. It was a tough campaign, but it was a kriffing _clean_ one." 

That got a quiet melancholy sigh out of the General, but he nodded. "Alright."

And then, the shields on the bond started gradually thinning. It took what Waxer thought had to be _hours_ , but his sense of the General gradually came back. And, sure, it was less clear than it had been before the campaign, the shields on it heavier than usual, but it was enough.

The bone-deep weariness he could feel tugged at everything in him, leaving him with the urge to wrap his General up in the softest blankets he could get his hands on and kriffing well _keep him there_ , but just being able to sense him was enough for the moment.

Waxer felt the tears of relief pricking at his eyes and buried his face in the General's shoulder, feeling Crys and Longshot do much the same.

And then, some indeterminate length of time later, the General asked, "So where _are_ Cody and Helix? It's not like them to take this long to accomplish something like having a meal sent up."

"We can find out easily, General," Wooley pointed out, and cued his comm, only waiting long enough for the Commander to pick up before he asked, "Commander, sir? We were wondering if there was some issue in the kitchens."

Waxer heard the answer clearly. "No, _Vod_ , we're on our way up. It just took the cooks a moment to finish heating things up."

"Copy that. See you soon." Wooley turned to the General and raised an eyebrow as if to say 'see?'.

Kenobi shrugged. "After the last few rotations," he quipped, "I'm not about to discount any possibilities."

"If someone manages to get aboard this cruiser and deep enough to get at the kitchens," Boil pointed out, "we'll have a lot more to worry about than finding the Commander."

The doors slid open with a quiet whine of hydraulics. "Someone was looking for me?" The Commander asked, sounding amused. "I can't go fifteen minutes without someone wanting my attention."

Waxer pushed himself up far enough to watch with interest as the Commander and Helix and Jango walked in, absolutely laden down with containers of food, and it smelled _kriffing amazing_.

"There are some people who _always_ want your attention, Commander," Boil replied, without missing a beat, and Waxer felt the General tense ever so slightly. "Did you get any of that amazing pudding dessert?"

Jango chuckled. "It's not something we normally carry aboard ship, but apparently the cooking staff brought some, special, just for this occasion. Apparently, they feel getting your two _Vod'e_ back is something worth celebrating."

The seven of them exchanged a look, all of them knowing the others were thinking the same thing. Those cooking staff would be getting something _nice_ , soon. Once they figured out what.

General Kenobi looked around the room, his eyes lingering on each of them, then shook his head. "Nevermind. It'll be less stressful if I _don't_ know what you're planning," he quipped.

That got Jango to raise an eyebrow at them. "I'm not so sure that's true, _vod'ika_ ," he muttered. "But at least now your _vod'e_ have managed to make you sit still long enough to rest a little."

The General muttered something distinctly impolite under his breath, then gently peeled himself out of their arms so he could get to his feet. "How many more times am I going to have to remind you that I'm well able to take care of myself?" He asked mildly.

Waxer gave him a dirty look and didn't have to look around the room to know that every other _Vod_ had done the same.

"At least as many times as you have done, so far," the Commander answered, then recalled him and Crys and Longshot with a jerk of his head.

The three of them didn't hesitate to follow the unspoken order, getting to their feet and moving carefully. Crys and Longshot were a bit stiff and pained, but they'd been cleared by the medics. No immediate danger; apply painkillers as prescribed.

With a grumble, their General joined them after a couple of seconds, "One day," he told the Commander. " _One day_ , you'll finally believe me when I tell you _I'm fine_."

The Commander nodded. "Maybe, sir. But it's not going to be today. Come over here and get your food."

Waxer sometimes wondered what it must be like to be on comfortable enough terms with someone like General Kenobi to be able to order them around.

That thought -- or maybe it was the feeling of speculation that must have gone with it -- got him an inquisitive look from Kenobi, and Waxer tried not to blush. _Not important,_ he tried to actively send back.

And then, luckily for his state of mind, Boil shoved a container of chow into his hands, and he gratefully seized on the distraction. Crys, when he looked over, was staring down at the meal in his lap with an expression somewhere between disbelief and longing.

"I don't think I've seen anything this attractive in two weeks," he joked, but Waxer could hear the note of absolute truth in it.

"Accommodations weren't that great, _Vod_?" He responded in kind, leaning in to put his shoulder against Crys'. Wooley did the same from the other side.

Jango made a slightly pained sound. "It's the Death Watch," he put in. "I don't think they know the meaning of the word 'hospitality'."

The General caught and held Crys' eyes, strong concern bleeding over their bond. "Take it slow, _Vod_ ," he said quietly, and a hint of remembered pain and visceral gnawing hunger joined the concern. "If you eat that too quickly, you'll just vomit it back up again."

Helix gave him, then Crys a sharp look, and Waxer knew their medic had put the pieces together. "They karking _starved_ you?" He demanded, sounding like he wanted to head right back down to Concordia and blow the mine up a second time.

Crys shrugged. "Not as such?" He replied. "It was subtler than that. They made one big serving of… whatever slop it was -- I don't even know what they put in it, but it kind of tasted like liquid ration bars -- and they made sure it would be enough for all but one or two of us to get a meal. Then they put it just inside the door and waited for the fighting to start."

"And Isabet told us that they didn't bother increasing the amount they offered when they put us in the room with the others," Longshot said, with a scowl. "They had a system. Took it in turns to skip a meal, every time that so-called _food_ was offered. Every last one of them refused to let us take a turn."

Jango took a hitching breath and visibly swallowed down his anger, but Waxer could still see it in him, almost like a halo around him. "Those kriffing Death Watch don't deserve to be called _mando'ad'e_."

Crys stood and set down his meal, then gingerly, stiffly, crossed the room to stand in front of Jango and wrap his arms around their _ori'vod_. "We're home, and we're in one piece. You can stand down, now," he said.

Jango's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "It's not so easy to just shut off, _vod'ika_ , and you know that. But I'll get there. Now, sit down and eat your food."

Helix cleared his throat, and when he spoke Waxer could tell he was using his medic voice. The words might _sound_ like a suggestion, but woe betide you if you disobeyed. "General's right, _Vod_. Even if you weren't starved, a diet like that can still cause trouble. Eat. Slowly, and the blandest things first. Drink an extra serving of water with it, and let your stomach adjust."

Longshot nodded, and started taking small bites of the steamed vegetables on his plate. Crys returned to his seat then prodded at his own plate for a moment, seeming almost sad that he wasn't allowed to bolt his meal the way he clearly longed to, then sighed and stabbed at one with his fork.

The rest of them and the General waited a few seconds before they picked up their own utensils one by one. Their meal passed in companionable silence, all of them incrementally relaxing as the feeling of having a solid, warm meal in their bellies eased the last physical and emotional aches and pains.

As Boil and Wooley gathered up the emptied containers and stacked them neatly, piling the utensils inside, Jango got to his feet and started chivvying them into bed. "Alright, _vod'ike,_ " he said decisively. "Armour off. Get some rest. I'll keep watch."

"But, Jango," the Commander protested, "you've been on your feet just as long as we have, if not longer. You should be getting some sleep, yourself."

"I've had worse. One of you--" he paused to survey them, "Wooley, you look least shattered, come relieve me in four hours."

The Commander looked like he wanted to protest some more, but he bit down on the words and nodded. "Fine. Four hours. Come on, General."

Kenobi gave Jango a long look, and the way he read across the bond suggested that he was trying to gauge whether he could buck the orders, but he gave in. Waxer couldn't help the relieved sigh that escaped him when Kenobi acquiesced.

It got him a startled look, and the General's expression softened. "You've all been through a slice of hell," he said, giving them a wry half-smile. "Get moving. Jango's right."

The Commander huffed at Kenobi, seemingly well-aware of what had been going through the General's head, and led the way through into their sleeping quarters. He and Helix didn't hesitate to remove their armour and the armourweave underlayer, leaving them in nothing but a pair of shorts. They exchanged a look, and wordlessly decided that the 'fresher was big enough for two.

Wooley and Boil watched them, then exchanged a look of their own, and a nod. No need to say a word. They all understood each other.

The General, who could read them well for all that he didn't have that near-instinctive ability to simply understand a _Vod_ without a Force bond tying them together, watched them go and made an amused sound. "Just as well we cleaned up earlier," he commented, and got a snort out of Boil.

"Get on the bed, General," Longshot prodded at him verbally and followed it up with what felt like a hint of a shove over the bond. A sensation like a hand at the hollow of your back, Waxer knew. 

The General looked startled and started to ask a question, but cut himself off at the slight pained expression on Crys' face. "You know what," he said as he carefully settled himself in his usual position on his side, "it can wait. But I do want to know how you did that."

Typical. Waxer huffed at him. "After sleep," he agreed. "Right now we're not in any kind of shape to deal with thinking hard about stuff we just _know_."

"Whatever it is can wait," Helix said firmly as he padded back into the room with the Commander at his side. They'd made that shower quick, even by GAR standards.

The pair of them waited semi-patiently for him and Crys and Longshot to get comfortable, then joined in, carefully worming their way in close without dislodging any of the points of contact they'd established with Kenobi.

Waxer was grateful for that. He needed the reassurance touch could provide, and knew Crys and Longshot had to be even worse off than he was.

It took them a while to get into a good position, since they needed to adjust again when Wooley and Boil joined them, but once they all had a hand on bare skin or an arm around someone's waist or their head tucked into a comfortable spot, it was like they could all suddenly breathe again.

Waxer found himself choking back a sob and Boil's arm tightened around him. Crys did shed a tear. Waxer felt it land on the back of his hand, and brought the other up to tangle in shaggy blond hair. Their General simply reached out with the Force and pulled them all into a physically impossible hug, holding them there until they finally relaxed. 

In that moment it seemed like sleep would swoop up and drag them down.

But… it didn't.

Waxer found his mind racing, never managing to stick to one topic long enough to really recognize what it was before jumping to the next, a chaotic mire of thoughts that wouldn't settle. 

And he could tell he wasn't the only one to have that particular problem.

Crys and Longshot were definitely still awake judging by the cadence of their breathing, and so was the General.

 _Probably_ , Waxer realised, _caught up in whatever we're feeling._

And then, like dropships appearing out of blinding starlight to bomb the hell out of enemy lines, the Commander and the rest of the _Vod'e_ reached out to them, grabbing hold of them in the network their General had described to them, and hauling them back out of whatever spiral they'd somehow gotten caught in.

Waxer gulped in a deep breath, a shudder going down his spine and feeling like he'd been stuck underwater for hours. Someone's hand was in his hair, short though it was, and rubbing at his scalp soothingly.

_Boil._

Force, but his _riduur_ was worth everything.

Beside him, above him, he felt Crys and Longshot come out of their reaction, too, albeit more slowly. "There, that's it," Helix gentled them. "Relax into it and let it happen."

The General huffed, laughing despite his own shakiness, and belatedly Waxer realised just how much of an innuendo that phrasing could be taken as.

"What was that?" Kenobi asked them quietly after a few silent moments.

The Commander sighed. "That can happen sometimes after a battle," he said simply. "Very emotional moments can trigger it."

When Waxer looked up, he realised that the Commander had -- presumably on Helix's orders -- begun running his hands through the General's hair much like Boil had been doing for him.

And, now that he was paying attention, he could feel the tiny twitches and shivers going through Kenobi's muscles as he came down off his own reaction to _them_. The touches had to be what had relaxed the General enough to smile and joke, as tired as he clearly was. As tired as they all were. General Kenobi was still shielding their bond more tightly than usual, hiding from them in what Waxer was convinced was an effort to keep from hurting them. He couldn't feel much coming from Kenobi. All that the General was allowing through was the sense of his continued presence. Waxer could feel that Kenobi lived, and that he was upset by what had happened on Concordia, but that was about the extent of it. All of the pain, the anguish, the hints of flashbacks to some past trauma or other... all of it was buried deep.

Waxer didn't like that Kenobi was repressing it so hard, but he knew better than to try to pry. Venturing anywhere near those potential triggers was a bad karking plan. Especially right now. They all needed to come back down off the experience of having Crys and Longshot torn from them like that, and figure out how to find their emotional balance with the Force Bonds pulling them this way and that. Maybe after that.

Maybe.

They stayed like that, silently offering and accepting comfort, until the General's eyes finally slid shut.

The Commander breathed out a deep sigh of relief, keeping it soundless. Waxer could sympathise. His own nerves were pretty well shot, and he'd not even had the worst time of it all.

Sleep would do them all a world of good.

It took him a while to make himself to close his eyes, half convinced -- despite everything -- that if he did, Crys and Longshot would vanish again and it would all have been nothing more than a dream. 

Eventually, though, he managed it, and he could distantly feel it as his _Vod'e_ fell asleep themselves, one-by-one.

He never noticed it when Jango walked in, but he did wake when Wooley peeled himself free of their little tangled cuddle pile, to go relieve their _ori'vod_.

To his pleased surprise, Jango stripped off his own armour and simply stretched out beside the Commander. 

That was as it should be.

Reassured that their world was as much in order as it ever was, Waxer let himself relax back into sleep. 

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Yan dropped down into the chair in his assigned room with a thud. He hadn’t slept in well over a rotation and a half, and most of that was filled with planning, fighting, and then more planning. The Force sustained him through such difficult times, but _sith-hells_ sometimes he just felt too old for this sort of thing. 

He glanced at the chrono on his comm. Sy would still be in the afternoon council meeting by now. There was time enough for Yan to clean up and put on some clean robes. There would be no hiding the fact that he’d been in pitched battle -- Sy knew him too well to ever be deceived by a pleasant lie -- but at least he wouldn’t _look_ like it. 

So he took his time and prepared himself, getting clean and comfortable. Chances were good that he’d attempt to rest right after he finished talking with Sy. 

Normally, he waited a day or two after his combat missions to comm his dearest friend, but this battle weighed heavily on him. Tor’s suicide. The knights' injuries. His rage at their near deaths... 

Yan very much wanted to talk to a friendly face after all of that. 

Food still seemed unappealing. He got a cup of tea instead. His appetite would return after he’d gotten a little sleep. 

Thus fortified, he checked his chrono again. Almost time.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the steam from his tea. It was calming.

Sy answered his comm with gratifying alacrity. 

“Doo!” Sy broke into a smile. His hair was tied up in its formal top knot and his robes were perfect as ever. From the angle of the holo, he was in his sitting room, having probably just arrived home from a council meeting. 

“Master Doo!” Young Obi-Wan’s face popped up into the holo. His grin was blinding. 

Yan had not expected to find that as endearing as he did.

“Sy. Obi-Wan,” he said, nodding at them and smiling softly. “I am surprised to see you with Master Sy, youngling. Did you escape the crèches?”

Yan knew very well that initiates as young as Obi-Wan weren’t allowed to wander the temple unattended. So either Sy had arranged for Obi-Wan to visit with him that afternoon, or Obi-Wan had staged a break out. Given what he knew of Ben, Yan’s credits were on the break out.

“Yup!” Obi-Wan didn’t have an ounce of shame. 

“He was waiting for me outside the council room,” Sy said dryly. “Padawan Ashi let Crèche Master Tinna know where he was, and promised to look out for him until I could collect him.” Sy looked down at where Obi-Wan was settling himself on Sy’s lap. “Obi-Wan will be staying with me until dinner, at which point he will rejoin Clan Thranta and apologize for worrying Crèche Master Tinna.”

“Yes, Master Sy,” Obi-Wan said, resigned. 

Sy gave Yan a look that said he believed that about as much as he believed that he was the King of Alderaan. 

Yan smothered his smile by taking a sip of his tea. He wasn’t familiar with the blend. It was something that Sy had packed along with his clothes. It wasn’t uncommon for Yan to find strange new varieties of tea packed into his gear before he headed off for missions. Sy’s way of saying that he would be missed.

“Is it good?” Sy asked, eyeing the tea.

“It is. It's warming. The spices remind me of holiday baking.”

Force, he missed Sy when they were apart. Which was most of the time, sadly.

“Try the other one in the morning,” Sy advised. “It reminds me of the same kind of holiday baking, but with the scent of pine and smoke. It’s interesting.”

Yan nodded in agreement. He let his eyes close and took another slow breath. Weariness tugged at his body, but it was a restless sort of exhaustion. 

The image of Tor’s face flashed through his mind. There was no trace of sanity there. Just wide-eyed, feral madness. It had utterly burned through Yan’s fury. 

“Rough mission?” Sy asked quietly.

Yan tilted his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “It went as smoothly as we could have hoped for. Knight Xen and Knight Lara’guz are in critical condition. No deaths.”

“I read the preliminary report that Master Plo sent,” Sy said.

“Are they gonna be alright?” Obi-Wan asked, his little face drawn with worry.

“Force willing, I think they will pull through.” Yan hoped, anyways.

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow and bit his lip.

Sy nudged him. “You can ask questions. We will answer if we can, though some things we may not be able to tell.”

“... Are my brothers ok?” Obi-Wan’s voice was small and worried.

“They are all fine,” Yan said gently. “Barely bruised, and happy to be home again.”

“I dream about them a lot,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Sometimes it’s scary.”

That must be why the crèche master was willing to allow Obi-Wan such latitude for seeking out Sy. If the child was continually plagued with visions, he would need all the help he could get. Yan and Sy both knew just how important a positive, stabilizing influence could be for him. Sy had been a teenager when his visions had started. Yan didn’t even want to think about what it would have been like if they’d begun when Sy was barely old enough for classes. 

“You are always welcome to come find me, if you are afraid,” Sy said firmly. “And it’s alright to be afraid. Everyone is afraid sometimes. Just be aware that as Jedi we can never let our fear rule us. And _you are not alone_.”

“Everyone gets scared?” Obi-Wan asked, twisting to get a look at Sy’s face.

“Yes,” Yan confirmed. “Even me, and I am a terribly scary person myself.” He made his expression as serious and stern as he could, to the point of silliness. 

It had the desired effect. Obi-Wan burst into giggles, and Sy gave him a wink. Yan allowed himself a small, triumphant smile and sipped his tea.

“So already you are waiting outside the Council chambers, youngling,” Yan said, changing the subject. Better to think of happier things, at least while they could afford to. “What did you think of them?”

“The High Councilors?” Obi-Wan frowned, his face screwed up in deep thought. “I don’t know. Half the time I think they should be someone else, but that’s not right at all. I think I might just be bad with faces.” Yan highly doubted that. “But!” Now Obi-Wan looked excited. “I got to see Master Mace 'nd did you know that he has a _purple lightsabre blade_?!”

“I did know that,” Yan said gravely. “And did he show it to you? I find that very surprising.”

As he spoke, he discreetly hit the record feature on his comm. This would be too good a story to not save, he was sure of it.

“Not yet, but I asked him about it ‘cause purple must be the best color,” Obi-Wan said confidently. “I told him so ‘nd asked if he would help me with my drills because Master Drallig says that we need to practice every day, ‘nd I had a dream about training with Master Mace and it was _really a-maz-ing_. So I thought maybe he could help me do that, so that we could be friends ‘nd have fun training together, like in my dream.”

Yan blinked. Sy was giving him a look that very clearly said, _You see what I’ve been dealing with for the past two weeks?_

“And did he agree?” Yan would be shocked if he did. Master Windu was about as fond of dealing with small children as Yan was.

“Master Windu attempted to decline, but Master Yaddle and Master Yoda reminded him that all High Councilors are obliged to take a turn teaching in the crèches,” Sy said, radiating amusement. “So it was suggested that he take over the beginners 'sabre class for Clan Thranta for a semester.”

“It’s gonna be great!” Obi-Wan bounced in Sy’s lap, smiling like he’d won a jackpot prize. 

“I am certain that it will be,” Yan said seriously. “I know that you are excited, but be mindful of what Master Windu tells you. More than your own life might rest on your 'sabre skills one day.” Before that thought could drag him back down into gloom, he added, “And you’ll want to be able to train with both Master Sy and I one day, too, won’t you?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes went twice as wide and he covered his mouth with his hands.

Yan had almost told him, _you’ll want to be able to train with your brothers one day, won’t you?_ But as frequently as some visions came, the future wasn’t certain. Yan didn’t want to promise the little one things that might not come to be. Nor did he want to build his and Sy’s relationship with the child based on the lure of meeting the people in Obi-Wan’s visions. That was a slippery slope that Yan had no desire to test.

“Now you’ve done it,” Sy mock-groaned. “Next time you’re back at the temple, I’m setting you two up for some practice time together.”

Yan gave him a dubious look, but didn’t argue. 

He sipped his tea and debated on what to say. He absently shut the recorder off, just to be sure that nothing sensitive could be seen by anyone else. “You know… I might be here for… quite a while…”

“Doo, I know,” Sy said softly. He was still smiling, but there was resignation in his face, too.

Yan shook his head. He was doing this all wrong. “What I mean is, once matters are settled here, once Mandalore is safer… Perhaps you and young Obi-Wan might like to visit me here?”

The cynical side of him thought about the leverage this would gain him with Ben and his _vod’e_. While he acknowledged that, it wasn’t even close to his driving purpose. 

He just wanted to see Sy. Little Obi-Wan was growing on him, too. 

Sy’s face lit up right along with Obi-Wan’s. 

“You think that would work?” Sy asked. “The Mandalorians, they aren’t really keen on Jedi.”

Yan let his smile turn sly. “I am reasonably sure I can convince the _Mand’alor_ to allow the visit. Once the Death Watch is no longer a threat.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid it will be up to you to convince the Council, and Crèche Master Tinna, to allow Obi-Wan to join us.”

Sy rocked backwards and grabbed his chest as if he’d been shot. “Ahhh, Doo, why do I feel like I just got the more difficult mission?” 

His dark eyes were sparkling and a happy smile had spread across his face, so Yan knew he wasn’t in too much trouble. 

“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure,” Yan said primly. 

“Can we go?!” Obi-Wan was bouncing again.

“I don’t know, little one,” Sy gave him a hug. “We’ll see if I can swing it. It may take a few weeks. Or more than a few weeks,” he warned. 

“Matters will take at least that long to wrap up here, anyways,” Yan said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Before he could say anything else, a wide yawn interrupted him.

Somehow during the discussion, he’d relaxed enough to actually feel ready for sleep. His eyelids suddenly felt as heavy as moons, and his whole body cried out for rest.

“Bed time for you, Doo,” Sy said warmly. “Get some rest, dear friend. We’ll talk another time.”

It went unsaid that they would be sharing more of the nitty gritty details later, once Obi-Wan was safely back in his crèche master’s clutches. 

“Goodnight, Master Doo!” Obi-Wan waved vigorously.

“Goodnight, youngling.” Yan paused to share a long look with Sy. “Good night, my friend.”

Sy’s smiling face as they both turned off their comms warmed Yan to his toes. He barely had enough mind to set his cup down and get himself to bed before he was deeply asleep.

\--


	23. Art Interlude - The Mereels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. I've been working on this thing for literally like 6 months because arting people is _really_ not my strong suit, but I also needed this to exist so _incredibly badly._ No, I'm not really looking for concrit, please don't. I know there are still a ton of little issues with it, but I have zero intention of going any deeper down this particular fandom rabbit hole. Words are much more my speed.

From left to right: Ben, Helix, Crys, Cody (above), Longshot, Boil, Waxer, and Wooley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also. Because the question of visual references came up recently, Quarra and I thought it might be helpful to y'all if we linked some images. Here's how we imagine --
> 
> Yan: Who better to portray the infamous Count Dooku than the man himself: [Sir Christopher Lee](https://imgur.com/34OyXVs.jpg) did a [karking amazing job](https://imgur.com/MLoCPum.jpg) and we couldn't possibly replace him. He is, however, appropriately young-ified, to fit his age in our fic. Meaning we picked out photos of him from when he was about 50. (And hooooooooly moly did he ever have the aristocratic look down pat.)
> 
> Sy: Sy was possibly the second easiest to cast, even though he basically never appears in movie canon. Quarra suggested [Tony Thornburg](https://imgur.com/EARA8Ox.jpg), and all I could say was _yes_. That first image is how we imagine he looks, basically. But, you know, minus the suit and facial hair and plus the standard Jedi robes. And, for fun and profit: Here's [Sy, as he's getting ready for bed](https://imgur.com/lJZrJNJ.jpg).
> 
> Jaster: Our image of Jaster falls somewhere between [Antonio Te Maicha](https://imgur.com/Y92N3o8.jpg) and [Richard Te Are](https://imgur.com/Fko3YVq.jpg). Essentially, take Te Maicha's features and make them a bit less sharp.
> 
> and Jango: For our man Jango, we default to the movie verse actor [Temuera Morrison](https://imgur.com/43nskUc.jpg)


	24. Chapter 24

\--- POV: Jango Fett ---

Jango's shift on watch for his _vod'ike_ went smoothly. He didn't honestly expect to have any trouble. They were on their ship, the _verd'e_ and the _jetiise_ were split between recovering here and being sent out for further assaults on possible Death Watch locations on Concordia. 

Clan Vizsla had taken a massive political hit from the irrefutable proof that Pre Vizsla was working with Death Watch. They were still trying to stall, but now most of the other warrior clans had sent additional _verd'e_ to help deal with them. The raid on the mine had been a coup for _buir_. 

The outrage of finding children forced into slave labor had spread through the True Mandalorians and New Mandalorians alike, though everyone present for the attack on the mine had been relieved to find out that those karking fingers Death Watch had sent them hadn't come from any of the rescued _ad'e_. Which did beg the question of where those two _ad'e_ were and if they were even still alive. Even with that open question as yet unresolved -- and perhaps it was one that was impossible to resolve -- both factions were more than willing to call the battle a resounding success. Even the _jetiise_ seemed to agree. 

For the first time in longer than Jango could remember, they had more support than anticipated. From ships to _verd'e_ to supplies. 

So he really wasn't worried about an attack.

Not _really_. Maybe just a tiny bit, and only because the paranoia of his _vod'ike_ was contagious. 

He couldn't really blame them, either. Not with how the last few weeks had gone. Both he and their _buir_ had had concerns about how hypervigilant his _vod'ike_ were. The way they stood as a united unit, _always_ , unless they were piled together at night for comfort... it was cute, sure, but also unsettling.

It was also entirely understandable. Hells, trouble followed them around like a ghost. They didn't even do anything to cause it, half the time. 

Which meant that since Jango was ninety-nine percent sure that nothing would happen, and one hundred percent sure that his _vod'e_ wouldn't sleep without a guard posted, he found himself very seriously keeping watch over the room where the little ones were all piled up for sleep.

Kark, but the kids all had looked like they needed it. It made him regret his promise to wake Wooley after four hours. But he was running on fumes, himself, and he knew he needed the rest. 

When his shift was up, Jango crept into the sleeping room and nudged Wooley awake. It didn't matter that he was as quiet as the grave; they all woke up anyways the moment he got close enough to touch Wooley.

Jango didn't like what _that_ said about their state of mind, either. 

Once they'd identified him as a friendly, most of them settled back down to sleep. Or maybe they hadn't really woken all the way up to begin with. Either way, Wooley slipped his armor on and went to guard the door. 

One glance at the inviting empty space on the mattresses was enough to convince Jango just to take his rest right there. The massed pile of _vod'e_ was still a little weird. He was used to a little more personal space when he was trying to sleep. 

Kriff, he was tired. 

He carefully set his armor aside and settled himself on to the blessedly soft, warm mattress. He'd left his shoulder flush to Boil's back, but that was about as close as he could bring himself to cuddle in. It was still weird. 

There was a little more stirring from the cuddle pile. Some disgruntled grumbling. Jango ignored it and closed his gritty eyes. 

Someone tugged at his arm. He ignored it. Sleep called to him and the _vod'e_ would figure out soon enough that he wasn't going to wade into the middle of the pillow fort just to get a little rest. 

The tugging got a little stronger. Jango brushed it off. Now was the time for _sleep_. Not tug of war.

"Come 'ere," Ben grumbled, clearly still mostly asleep. His voice was muffled by bodies; Cody, Waxer, Crys, and Longshot had stayed all but glued to him, even as they slept.

A heavy, invisible hand closed over Jango, wrapping him up from neck to knee. It _pulled_. 

Suddenly, Jango was smack dab in the middle of a pile of annoyed _vod'e_ , each one of them bitching at the disturbance of their carefully worked out sleeping position. 

"Whyyy," Waxer groaned, already squirming around Boil, who was flailing for a pillow. 

"Shut up, t'ats an order," Cody groaned, and hauled himself into a sprawl over Jango's body. 

Ben followed right along with him, curling over Cody like they were a matched set. The rest of the _vod'e_ followed suit. Pretty soon, Jango was buried.

 _Kriff_.

He tried to wiggle a little and got six identical pointed elbows in complaint, and one full body Force squeeze.

"Sleep time," Ben grumbled. "Can' leave while we're sleepin'. Not allowed. E'erb'dy sl'ps…" The words trailed off into quiet snoozing. 

The rest of the _vod'e_ were already passed out again. 

_Double kriff_.

He was stuck. 

Fine. This was fine. He could deal. He needed sleep anyways. 

Except now he was really, really warm. Plus there were all the subtle movements that came with having seven breathing children sprawled on him. 

But it had been a long day, and Jango really was kriffing tired. He closed his eyes and tried to get a little sleep. 

It actually worked. For a while. 

When he woke up, it was because his foot was going numb. None of the _vod'e_ had moved. He was still stuck. 

He tried shifting again. Maybe now that they were all a little deeper asleep, he'd be able to escape. 

Several arms grabbed ahold of him and _held_.

Karking kriff. 

He resigned himself to waiting out the next shift. His internal sense of time told him that he'd probably managed a few hours of sleep at least. Their _buir_ was supposed to stop by with food at some point. All Jango had to do was wait. Rescue was on its way.

It took another hour or more for their _buir_ to show. Jango had fallen into a light, mildly uncomfortable doze. Now both legs were numb and _kriff_ there was a reason the _vod'e_ didn't use blankets. It was an inferno of body warmth there in the middle of the pile. 

Jaster poked his head into the room. The sound of the door opening was enough to bring Jango to full awareness. He promptly gave his _buir_ the most pleading look he could.

 _Buir, help. Help, I'm stuck, they won't let me go_ , he thought with so much intensity that he briefly worried that he might wake Ben.

But Ben was still out like a light. Small favors. That kid looked like he'd been run over. 

Their _buir_ , the jerk, not only _did not_ help, he moved into the room just far enough to take out the holocam on his comm and take some holos of the scene. 

Jango glared at him. That just made their _buir_ cover his mouth to suppress the snickers. 

"Help!" Jango breathed out in his quietest possible voice. "My legs are asleep! I can't move!"

Jaster had to lean against the wall with the effort it took to not laugh out loud. 

Something of what was happening must have filtered through to the other room, because Wooley poked his head in. He promptly started silently cackling, too.

Jango used his very limited available movement to make a rude gesture at them both. That just made them breathlessly, silently cackle harder. 

The _vod'e_ around him started to shift and grumble unhappily. Jango stilled himself. As much as he wanted to get out of the pile, his _vod'ike_ really did need rest. They'd worried him and their _buir_ half to death with how ragged they were running themselves. 

He'd never admit it out loud, but it was kind of nice that they felt safe enough around him to trust him with this. 

So he settled down, albeit with a grumpy expression, and resigned himself to being a pillow for the foreseeable future. 

Jaster finally managed to get himself under control. At least enough to take a couple more holos. Then he slipped silently out of the room, dragging Wooley with him. 

Jango sighed. But before he could feel too annoyed, Jaster and Wooley returned. Wooley had a cup of caff, from the smell, and Jaster had a data pad. How, exactly, he was going to drink the caff in his current position, he wasn't sure. He appreciated the thought, though.

As the scent permeated the room, Boil and Helix stirred. 

"Caff?" Boil muttered, twisting up to give a blurry-eyed sniff. "Gimmie." As he sat up, he absently leaned over to give Waxer a kiss on the temple before sitting up.

A _kiss_.

Everyone who was awake froze. Jango and Jaster in surprise, and Boil, Wooley, and Helix in obvious horror. 

Jango shot Jaster a startled look. If anything, that just made Boil, Wooley, and Helix tense up further. Boil had curled over Waxer protectively. Helix sat up and was looking back and forth between Jango and Jaster like he was checking for weakness, and Wooley had taken a step between Jaster and the rest of his brothers.

They were afraid. 

It hit Jango like a sledgehammer to the face. 

"We are all gonna take a breath and stay calm and not wake our _vod'e_ ," Helix said very quietly.

Kark. Ben was already starting to frown and stir in his sleep.

Jango very purposely let out a breath and tried to relax. Whatever was going on, Helix was right. They shouldn't wake the others. If only because Jango couldn't think of a worse case scenario than Ben waking up to the feeling of all of his _vod'e_ being afraid. 

That alone made Jango's stomach turn. His _vod'ike_ were clearly terrified of him and their _buir_. 

What the _kriff_.

Jaster sat down in a chair at the edge of the room, moving slowly and keeping his hands visible. He'd clearly caught on to the mood and was trying to de-escalate. 

A quiet moment passed as Ben shifted in his sleep and then relaxed again.

Jango wasn't quite sure what was going on. They'd struck a nerve somehow, and it had to do with Boil kissing Waxer. Which was a whole new level of unsettling for Jango. 

"Waxer is my _riduur_ ," Boil said, keeping his voice low. "We've been a pair for years."

He kept one hand on Waxer's shoulder. Protecting him, Jango absently thought. 

"But you're brothers," Jaster half-asked, half-stated.

"We're equipment," Helix said coldly. "Clones have no rights, no individuality, and any strong deviation from the template results in reconditioning or getting decommissioned."

Jango felt sick. Their _buir_ had gone ashen pale.

"Sometimes a _vod_ finds another to be close to," Wooley said. "It's not talked about. Because..." He nervously nodded at Helix, agreeing with Helix without words. 

"The General knows and doesn't care," Boil said. He was looking at Jango and Jaster with wide, worried eyes, begging with his gaze. 

Oh _hells_ , they thought this was gonna get them punished. Or cast out.

Jango closed his eyes and winced. Yes, it was weird. No, it wasn't any weirder than anything else they'd seen so far. Two identical brothers as _riduur'e_? That would raise a lot of eyebrows, even if they weren't in... whatever situation they'd come from. No wonder they kept it under wraps.

The way Jango and their _buir_ had gotten all stunned probably hadn't helped the situation.

He struggled with himself for a moment. It seemed a little incestuous. Two versions of him, involved with each other. But he'd gotten to know them as people. They weren't just copies. No matter what Helix had parroted back to them from whatever hellhole they'd been grown in, each of his _vod'e_ was one of a group of individuals who just happened to share the same genetics. There wasn't even a chance of reproduction, so that didn't have any bearing on the situation. 

So. Jango could either treat them as replicas of himself, a vast network of the same person, over and over. Or he could treat them as individual people who'd made the best decisions they could and found happiness where it was available. 

That didn’t even cover the fact that they were all adults stuck in the bodies of children.

It was _weird_. 

It was also none of his business. He'd get used to whatever they felt comfortable telling him about, though he was certain that he didn't want details. 

He took a breath and opened his eyes to see Boil watching him with the look of a man about to be executed. 

"You're gonna have to exchange armor again when you get of age," Jango said with a weak smile. The statement felt fragile in the quiet room.

Their _buir_ huffed out a laugh and rubbed his hand over his face. "I didn't think I'd have to give anyone the shovel talk until you all hit majority. I can't decide if giving it to you both at once would be effective or counterproductive."

The relief in the room was a tangible thing. Wooley set down the mug of caff he was holding and took a shaky breath. Helix had stopped looking murderous, but Boil was still glancing back and forth between them like he wasn't sure if it was safe to stand down yet. 

Jaster walked over and knelt next to Boil, pulling him into a hug. 

"It's alright, _ad_ ," Jaster said softly. "We're not mad. Everything is alright."

Boil exhaled like all the breath he'd ever owned had been pushed out of him, and he clung to their _buir_. 

"Thank you, _buir_ ," he whispered. 

Jango pushed aside the urge to travel forward in time and stab everyone who'd ever hurt his _aliit_. There wasn't anything he could do about it. He and their _buir_ would just have to make life better for his _vod'ike_ now.

A half a minute went by before Jango was again reminded that he couldn't feel his legs. 

"So. Help?" He raised his eyebrows and tried to ineffectively squirm out of the pile of sleeping _vod'e_. It was something to lighten the mood, too. 

It was fine. They were all clearly alright with the relationship, so really what did Jango have to bitch about? He'd get himself settled on the subject privately. He and _buir_ would be having a long conversation about this later, he was sure, but right now they needed to take care of their family. 

Changing the subject seemed the easiest way to do that. 

Helix snorted, leaned over, and started shifting limbs around. The sleeping _vod'e_ didn't even stir. 

"Oh, that's just not fair," Jango complained under his breath. "I try to move a tiny bit and you all grab me like a freaking strangler vine, but you move them and they don't even wake up."

Helix just gave him a smug look. 

He _didn't_ actually move any of the _vod'e_ enough to free Jango. Just enough to give him a little wiggle room. Ben and Cody didn't get touched at all; they were still happily sprawled on his chest, holding on to each other more than they held him. 

Boil clung to their _buir_ for another minute longer, and then pulled back with a shaky smile.

"Dibs on the first cup of caff," Helix said.

The look of pure betrayal on Boil's face was hilarious. There was a very quiet but no less heated scramble for the lone cup of caff. Boil was victorious, and he huddled over the cup like a Krayt Dragon sitting on an egg. 

Wooley just snickered at them and stepped out of the room, only to return mere seconds later with a stack of cups and a carafe. Helix and Jaster both acquired their own cups before one finally, _finally_ , got handed off to Jango. 

He tried to shimmy upright so he could drink without spilling. Helix helped him out with some pillows. Somehow, they managed to make this happen without getting more than a grumpy curse from the sleeping _vod'e_. Ben ended up shoving his face into Cody's chest, his face scrunched up in distaste.

"He hates caff," Wooley said with a silent laugh. 

"He can damn well deal," Jango bitched. 

Ah. Wonderful, life-giving caff. Bitter and delicious. 

He inhaled the rich scent and wiggled his toes through the long awaited pins-and-needles.

No one seemed inclined to leave just yet, nor were any of them interested in waking up the rest of the _vod'e_. They'd had a rough time. Jango just knew that the moment Ben and Cody were fully awake, they'd be back to their regular relentless selves.

Better to give them as much time to recharge as they could. 

Wooley handed him a data pad, and then squeezed himself onto the couch along with _buir_ , Helix, and Boil. While the _vod'e_ sipped their caff and poked at datapads, Jaster took more holos. 

Jango just glared at him.

He was never going to live this down.

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Waking up was disorienting.

There were warm familiar bodies all around him, and his General was tucked in close to him where he belonged. But Waxer was bigger than he remembered.

Shifting his weight, he heard a slightly pained sound above him. It was in a voice he recognised as 'safe' though, so he didn't open his eyes. "Shut up, Waxer," he mumbled. "'S early."

Wooley started snickering quietly, apparently awake.

What was so funny?

Cody stretched and carefully shifted out from under Kenobi just enough that he could sit up.

And then he came to several realisations. First: It wasn't just Wooley who was laughing. The others were just being quieter about it. Second: it wasn't Waxer that he'd been sprawled over. Third: somehow Jango had ended up in their little huddle. And fourth: their _buir_ was watching them and biting his lip to keep from outright chuckling.

"About time you woke up properly," Jango grumbled at him.

"Yeah, well," Cody sprawled back out, leaning his weight against Jango's belly and getting a grunt in response, "I was comfortable."

Kenobi made a protesting sound, rousing. "Why am I waking up to the sound of you bickering with someone, Cody?" He groused.

Immediately shifting and wincing as he moved, Jango replied, "Because you lot are worse than a forest of strangling vines. You kriffing Force pulled me into range and then there was no escape. You refused to let me go."

Wooley nodded, backing him up. "You muttered something about him not being allowed to leave."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the General said and huffed at them, then got to his feet and stumbled off towards the fresher.

Cody watched him go, amused, then stood up so he could stretch properly. "How far are we from Sundari?"

He didn't ask, 'How long did we sleep?'

Their _buir_ answered him, breaking his silence. "We should be making orbit in about half an hour. Sundari about twenty minutes after that." He paused for a moment, then added, addressing the words to Cody but very obviously meaning them for Crys and Longshot, "Those eight _mando'ad'e_ that you rescued are all doing as well as can be expected. The five well enough to walk and travel have already been adopted by several of my _verd'e_. The other three... Well. I guess we'll see what their decisions are when they've recovered enough to make them, but I suspect that they'll be adopted shortly, themselves. The others had no objections, and it's only sensible for them to have a sponsor for a few years. All eight of those _ad'e_ are already technically of age, by our standards, but none of them have the resources to stand on their own two feet just yet, and some of them may have to go through their coming of age ceremonies again."

Longshot and Crys uncoiled as a subtle tension left them.

"Good," Crys said firmly. "They deserve that much."

The _Mand'alor_ nodded. "The rest of the news can wait until after you've eaten something."

Jango poked Cody in the ribs, probably hoping that would get him moving, and got a reflexive elbow to the gut in response. He doubled over with a slightly pained wheeze and leaned all of his weight on Cody's shoulders. "Kark," he muttered as their _buir_ laughed outright. "Did you never learn to pull your punches?"

Helix snickered and stepped over to them, and peeled them apart. "You were kind of asking for it, _ori'vod_ ," he offered, steering Jango toward the door that led to their dining area.

Crys and Longshot were watching the rest of them like they were mirages. 

Those two were having as much of a tough time believing that they were back with their _Vod'e_ as the rest of them were in believing that they had Crys and Longshot back. 

That would ease, and quickly, the longer Crys and Longshot spent close to their _Vod'e_ , but for the moment it was incredibly karking obvious. 

"Cody?" General Kenobi prompted him, and Cody looked up, surprised.

"Sir?" He tried to hide his utter lack of situational awareness, realising that he'd been so focused on his _Vod'e_ that he hadn't been watching the doors at all. 

Waxer, who'd wound up glued back to Kenobi's side, suggested wryly, "Let's go get some food before Helix and _ori'vod_ take it all for themselves."

The room had emptied while he thought, and that left him feeling wrong-footed. Hells, this whole campaign had, in one way or another. When he hadn't been worrying over his missing _Vod'e_ , his General had been dropping some kriffing horrifying hints about his past, his _buir_ 's council had been causing trouble... or Jinn's karking padawan had. 

A hand landed on his shoulder. Waxer. "You alright, there, Commander?"

Kenobi's focus narrowed down to him and nothing else. Cody swore he could feel it happen and that was just strange. "He's fine, Waxer, but he's as off-balance as the rest of you are at the moment."

Waxer's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Come on, _Vod_ , get moving," he demanded, and Cody gave him a flat look. 

"Trying to give your superior officer orders, Lieutenant?" He asked mildly, putting the slightest pointed emphasis on Waxer's rank, though he allowed himself to be physically turned towards the door. 

Kenobi snorted and openly admitted to being a mother hen when he put in. "If he hadn't said it, I would have."

That finally got Cody moving. Force, but he was in a strange headspace. This wasn't like him at all.

Helix caught his eyes the moment he appeared in the doorway of the dining area, and Cody knew he was in for an interrogation later. It would happen the moment Helix could contrive to get them some privacy. Even if that meant hauling him off into the 'fresher to get it.

"We're not subject to GAR regs right now anyways, _Commander_ ," Waxer pointed out, drawing his attention back away from their medic. "The GAR, as we know it, doesn't even exist in this time, and Mandalore isn't Republic space, either."

"Kriffing right, it isn't," Jango agreed. "Get over here and sit down. The rest of us are hungry."

The three of them obeyed without protest, and -- somewhat to Cody's surprise -- their meal went by without any outside interruptions.

As they ate, their _buir_ filled them in on what had been happening. "Based on the reports we've been getting from the men interrogating our prisoners and Master Dooku, the Masters and I have decided that it makes the most sense for us to stay in Sundari long enough to organize the remaining offensive against the Death Watch," he said. "That has the added benefit of giving Crys and Longshot some more time to recover... and the rest of you look just as worn down as they do, for that matter."

Wooley scoffed. "The war hasn't been easy on us in over a year and a half," he said sardonically.

That statement put a pinched expression on their _buir_ 's face, but he let it pass without comment, taking another bite of his meal and continuing. "Ben, your help liaising with the _jetiise_ has been invaluable, and I need to know whether you can keep that up."

The implication that it might be too difficult for him made the Negotiator straighten up to his full height. "Of course I can, _buir_ ," he replied, and would've gone on speaking if the _Mand'alor_ hadn't picked up the thread again immediately. 

"Excellent. I'd appreciate having updates on them. To everyone's surprise, they've all been very helpful, including Master Jinn, alternating between taking short shifts in the medbay and heading out on missions with teams of _verd'e_. Master Plo has informed me that he will be requesting a Force healer from Coruscant for the two injured knights and extended the offer of their services to any of the _verd'e_ and your _vod'e_ who wish them. He was -- is -- worried about you, I think."

Cody wanted to melt back into his chair in relief. If Master Plo had told their _buir_ that much about the healer, that meant it was also definitely confirmed that they were coming. It would be happening.

He got a curious glance from Kenobi for his reaction, but the General accepted it when he signed back, _later_.

Sensing that the sitrep report was over, Waxer asked, "How are the two knights?"

Jango picked that up to answer. "As well as can be expected. They're still in critical condition, but stable enough that we can risk making planetfall."

The _Vod'e_ all fell silent after that, applying themselves to their food with considerably more enthusiasm than before, relief giving them their appetites back. Their General watched them fondly, but didn't try to reopen the more serious discussion, now that he had an idea of what had been going on while they'd slept.

Cody was frankly amazed that there had been no disasters, but apparently even that karking padawan of Jinn's had been behaving himself.

Only just as they finished eating did anyone request entry.

"That'll be Darist," their _buir_ commented, standing. "We'll be breaking atmosphere shortly."

"Go ahead, _buir_ ," Jango said, "I'll keep an eye on things here."

The _Mand'alor_ gave him a nod and a crooked smile. "You know how to reach me," he responded, and then ducked briskly back out of the fairly spacious stateroom.

Sure enough, as soon as Jango was sure he had the authority to give orders if need be, he surveyed them and started trying to outdo the General at mother henning them. "All of you need to rest some more," he said, an expression of resignation on his face, "but I know you won't listen to me if I try to tell you to."

Wooley scoffed. "Recently we've been lucky to have half a rotation of downtime between missions. Maybe a week or so between ground campaigns, if you count the time we spend in hyperspace."

"Well," Boil amended the statement for him, "recently in the time we came from. It's so weird to think that we've been in the past for a kriffing month and a half already."

It was a bit stunning to realise that Boil was right. Force. It definitely hadn't _felt_ like a whole six weeks.

Jango gave them a sardonic look, as if to ask _how is that relevant?_

Helix caught their _ori'vod_ 's eyes and shrugged. "We're used to coping with running from one engagement to the next," he said gently. "Moreover, after a year and a half of that, it's practically habit. Even if we _wanted_ to rest, it would be difficult to."

Jango's expression went sour, but he nodded. "I guess that makes sense, but you're all still worn down."

Helix conceded the point. "Comes with the territory."

General Kenobi huffed. "The Separatists definitely kept us on our toes," he agreed. "But Jango is right. We have the opportunity to rest, and we should take advantage of it, as best we can." He paused and eyed them. "I intend to spend a few hours in meditation. You seven might pick some low-effort drills to do once we're back at the palace."

"Sounds reasonable, as long as Crys and Longshot ease back into things," Helix added his seal of approval to the idea. Then he turned to Cody and went on. "In the meantime, the Commander and I have some matters to discuss privately."

That got them some raised eyebrows from their _Vod'e_ but no one spoke up to protest. Cody hid a wince. That interrogation was going to be happening sooner rather than later, it seemed. Helix was worried. "Right," he conceded defeat as gracefully as he could manage, "I did promise you we'd find time to talk."

Kenobi eyed them both. "Is there an issue I need to know about?"

"I'll keep you informed," Cody answered, "but anything Helix tells me in his capacity as Chief Medical Officer has to stay confidential. You know that as well as I do, General."

Startled, the General nodded a bit hastily. "That was never in question." 

Boil nodded back, acknowledging the words and the intent behind them. "We know, sir, but it's sometimes worth restating the obvious."

Satisfied, Helix nodded and took him by the elbow, then led him out of the room to the accompaniment of several amused snickers.

"I can and will make you all run laps." Cody tossed the warning over his shoulder.

Boil scoffed. "Yeah, okay, it's not worth getting in trouble over that. Waxer?"

"Yeah?" The _Vod_ answered his _riduur_ readily.

Cody didn't hear the rest; Helix shut the door of their shipboard sleeping quarters firmly behind them, then turned to face him and waited.

He wanted Cody to decide where he felt comfortable.

With a quiet sigh, he crossed the room to the sofa their _buir_ had occupied earlier. Helix followed him, giving him a moment to settle himself in.

Knowing damned kriffing well he would need the contact, Cody let himself sprawl out on his back, inviting. They'd done this countless times before, though only rarely since they'd gotten off Kamino.

He'd been pretty stable, recently.

Until they'd gotten flung into the past. That had left him reeling. He'd managed to wrench himself back into a nearly balanced state for the most part, but the situation wasn't really improving and he knew it. So did Helix.

Once Helix was certain Cody was ready for it, he joined him, worming his way between Cody and the back of the sofa. Covering his back and keeping an eye on the door.

Just knowing Helix had the watch let him relax with a sigh that got stuck in his throat. That clever _Vod_ always somehow knew just what he needed. 

They simply stayed like that for a few minutes that stretched.

"I should probably warn you that Jango and _buir_ know about Waxer and Boil," Helix said eventually.

"What?" Cody turned to stare at his old friend. "When? And how?"

Helix sighed, a bit aggravated by the memory. "About half an hour ago, and because Boil kriffing kissed his _riduur_ in front of them without thinking."

Kark. He almost didn't want to ask. "And how did they react?"

"Besides being stunned speechless at first," Helix replied, "surprisingly well, all in all. I have a feeling they're saving their freak outs for somewhere private. They've both been very careful not to spook us at all over the last few weeks. Which, while I, for one, can appreciate that, feels like something we may have to actively address at some point soon. We may look like we're ten standard years old right now, physically, but mentally we're not, and being protected and cared for is nice, but eventually it'll start to annoy all of us one way or another. We're used to having autonomy, to whatever degree Kamino or the GAR would allow. We're used to having the option to assess a situation and act, without having to worry about how that would reflect on our C.O. because he was right there with us, rather than trying to protect us by keeping us off a battlefield. Suddenly _not_ having that option... is probably going to drive us all kriffing crazy at some point. And not having to worry about _buir_ and _ori'vod_ hitting one of our emotional triggers is nice, knowing that they're doing their best to keep from upsetting us is... it's a level of care and family that we never got from anyone else before. But it feels like being coddled."

Cody didn't hide his wince. "I hear you, _Vod_ , and you're right. But there are plenty of other things we need to deal with, that, in my opinion, are higher priority."

Helix nodded. "The chips?"

"The chips. The political aftermath of the ground campaign we just ran. Getting Crys and Longshot stable again." He took a deeper breath. "Getting _all of us_ stable again. Between the chips and those Force bonds, and being cut off from our _Vod'e_ in the 212th and the 501st, we're all just… adrift."

Helix's arm went around his waist. "It's not as bad for the rest of us," he said, tone neutral. "We're all networked in, but you only have a single point of contact: me."

"What, exactly, are you trying to say, _Vod_?" Cody was pretty sure he knew, but he sure wasn't above making Helix spell it out.

The medic didn't disappoint, either. Helix scowled at him like he was being obstinate, and growled a curse under his breath. "You always have been a stubborn kriffing _di'kut_ ," Helix said. "You need to network in with the rest of our _Vod'e_. Soon. I know how you feel about the idea, and I know why. But you need it. You've been too isolated for too long, _Vod_ , and it's starting to affect you. Strongly. The others are all worrying about you but they don't feel they have the right to say anything, and even the General, as deliberately oblivious as he can be about certain interpersonal matters, is starting to take notice."

Cody squeezed his eyes shut. Forced himself not to think too hard about his lost squad- and batchmates. Swallowed hard against the way the memory of losing his _cyare_ along with his entire network left him fighting back tears. Little Force gods, that had been _such a kriffing waste_.

He wasn't stupid. Even in the grips of the deepest frustration and despair Cody could ever recall feeling, he hadn't been.

He might've nearly made some kriffing stupid decisions, though.

Most days his loathing of the longnecks had been a low, simmering thing, on Kamino. A knowledge that none of them was truly safe that had driven him to try to make sure his men were as secure as he could make them. But right then... in the aftermath... oh, he would've cheerfully killed as many of those karking heartless beings as he could get away with.

Thankfully his _Vod'e_ had stopped him. Thank the kriffing Force for Helix and Rex and Wolffe. If he'd gone truly off the rails and followed through on an impulse like that, it might well have spelled disaster for every last cadet on planet, not to mention any future batches. They would all have had their loyalties very carefully tested, over and over until the end of kriffing time. His revenge would've gotten him killed for sure and it would have left his _Vod'e_ more vulnerable than before.

And then those same three kriffing _Vod'e_ had stopped him from karking up everything for everyone a second time, pulling the blaster back out of his hands when the sheer emptiness around him -- space he refused to fill with _Vod'e_ lest he get them all killed again -- had nearly gotten the better of him. 

Helix's arm tightened around him and the bond between them went warm. Reassuring. _I'm here, we're alive, we're together,_ he signed as best he could without letting go.

The knowledge that Helix _knew_ and still thought he was worth something, still thought he was a good leader, wrapped around him, full bodied like a heavy blanket in hyperspace and, almost reluctantly, Cody found himself relaxing. A little.

He carefully eased away from the memory of that nightmarish month and a half, then shoved it back into its box.

The thought of doing what Helix was suggesting -- for all that he'd been contemplating doing it himself -- made him feel like his whole being was a silent scream. He felt it in the way his shoulders and throat went tight and tense. "I know you're right. I _know, Vod_ , but I can't help the way it makes me want to vomit."

"You'll have to deal with the network the moment your chip is out, if the pattern holds," Helix pointed out, rational and reasonable and altogether kriffing annoying.

"I know that, too," Cody agreed on a sigh. "And I don't know which is more likely to drive me karking insane. Knowing that that chip is in my head, doing who kriffing knows what, or knowing that once it's _gone_ , I'll have all of you in in there instead."

Helix had the balls to laugh at him. "At least you can enjoy it, once you get used to the idea. I'll have to consistently block you _or'dinii_ out, or I won't be able to do my karking job."

Cody rolled onto his side and wrapped himself around Helix, pulling his _Vod_ in close and soaking in the contact. Letting himself take the offered comfort. "You heard the General," he disagreed. "We'll all have to do that. It won't just be you as the odd man out. If we're going to avoid whatever happened down in that mine, keep it from happening again... we'll have to be able to shield each other -- and Kenobi -- out."

"Maybe," Helix replied, making a face. "But good luck getting our _Vod'e_ to accept that. They're used to having close, constant contact, and their _Vod'e_ around them at all times."

"As long as they can keep a lid on it while they're on mission, I don't give a kriff what they do in their downtime." Cody tucked his nose into the hollow of Helix's neck.

They were silent for a few heartbeats after that.

"You know," Helix said, his frown audible, "this puts a whole new complexion on the General's workaholic tendencies."

Cody, unprepared for the change of topic, just blinked at him for a moment.

"Don't tell me you never noticed how, after a rough campaign with heavy losses, he always locked himself in his own quarters and worked until he literally couldn't think straight anymore." Helix gave him a sidelong look that admirably conveyed his disbelief. "You two spend as much time together as Waxer and Boil do."

"No, I noticed. I just… never thought about it in that context." Cody admitted, ignoring the commentary on his inability to let Kenobi out of his sight for long. He was certainly thinking about it now. "You think he was…"

"Self-flagellating? Yes, I do. But I could be entirely off base." Helix ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "He won't speak to me -- or anyone else -- about that. Or about any of the other nightmares and fears and karking childhood traumas he's keeping locked up in his skull."

That sent a shiver of something almost like fear down Cody's spine; He knew exactly how dangerous that road could be to walk. "He's always been the kind of person to keep that stuff to himself," he said slowly, "and I always assumed he'd come to one of the _Vod'e_ if he needed help coping, but now... having heard him talk about being a slave in a mine himself, and with that story he told us about his master getting murdered right in kriffing front of him..."

"Exactly." Helix admitted, "I'm worried he _still_ won't, even after he's fully networked in with us."

Cody wanted to groan. "We can't force him to talk, or, well, want to be helped, but General _Buir_ said he'd send for someone trained as a mind healer and that all of the _Vod'e_ would be allowed access to their services."

" _Good_ ," Helix said, emphatically. "We can get Crys and Longshot squared away. And you should consider taking advantage of the opportunity, yourself."

Cody took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. Wasn't sure he ever would be. But Helix had only ever looked out for him and was trying to make sure he was stable.

He had time until that mind healer showed up to decide whether he could stand to bare those parts of himself to them. "Helix, I'm not sure I--"

When his words cut off, when he couldn't make himself voice the rest of the sentence around the mix of anguish and shame, Helix's arm tightened around his waist, comfort and support and understanding. "If you're not ready, you're not ready, _Vod_. But think about it."

"Alright."

\--- POV: Ardanna Byzkan ---

Ardanna had been the palace armourer for several years. She was not a young woman any more, though she wouldn't deign to call herself old, either. 

She was a master of her craft and the soul of the _verd'e_ who came to see her. As it should be. If war came to her door, she and her senior apprentice, Mira, were more than capable of defending their domain. It was their duty to remain in fighting trim.

It was also her duty to counsel _verd'e_ who darkened her door. She was the keeper of The Way. All knew this. To present oneself to her was to petition for her knowledge as well as her skill.

Because of this duty, to armor and to _aliit_ , Ardanna herself could not join the _verd'e_ when they went out to temper their souls with war. 

Not all armourers filled their position as she did. Some practiced quietly, building _beskar_ into armor and weapons so powerful that they were works of art. She had studied with such masters. Some armourers knew only the bare basics of their craft, but traveled far into the galaxy, keeping their more nomadic brethren safe. 

Ardanna's position was special in some ways. She crafted incredible pieces, but she was also here to guide the _Mand'alor_. Knowledge of all battles came to her eventually as _verd'e_ returned from their missions. 

Thus it was expected that Jaster Mereel should show up with Jango Fett shortly after their arrival back in Sundari, both brimming with tales.

Mercifully, their armor was not terribly damaged. That spoke well for their skill in battle, as well as the outcome. No damage at all would have meant that they'd not had a proper fight. Too much and it implied dangers beyond their abilities. Either situation could teach them something, but she was pleased to see that they'd achieved the best possible outcome.

Just as she was pleased to hear that the _Mand'alor_ 's stolen _ad'e_ had been recovered. 

As she repaired their armour, they told her of the brave forward assault made by Ben and his _vod'e_. They spoke of the _jetiise_ , and how they'd fought from the front -- _unarmoured_ \-- and how two of their number had been gravely injured protecting _verd'e_. They told her of the rescued _ad'e_ and the death of Tor Vizsla. 

The _verd_ inside of her wished, just a little, that she could have joined them, but she knew her duty was here. 

Ardanna was less than pleased to notice that neither Ben nor his _vod'e_ had stopped by, themselves. 

Over the course of the next day, she waited and listened. All tales came to the armourer eventually.

The _verd'ike_ and their _jet'ika_ general were relatively unharmed and nosing into all manner of things. As she'd expected. They were very studious warriors, all of them. Polite and disciplined. It was fair to say that she'd liked them near-instantly. Even Ben, despite her unease at having a _jetii_ , no matter how young, standing in her armoury.

But, as seamlessly as those _vod'e_ had fit into being _mando'ad'e_ , they were strangely out of kilter with The Way. As if it had been taught to them secondhand by a _verd_ who had long forgotten half of their beliefs. Given that they were adopted and only the _Mand'alor_ himself seemed to know anything about their origins, this seemed like a possibility.

Keeping this reasoning in mind, Ardanna did not take insult with their lack of attentiveness. 

She did, however, remind Darist H'yza to mention to the _Mand'alor_ that he should encourage his _ad'e_ to get their armour checked up. On impulse, she also suggested that Ben bring along Master Dooku and Master Plo. She deliberately excluded Jinn and his apprentice from her summons. She'd heard unsettling rumors about Master Jinn, and after the way he'd addressed her the first and only time she'd met him she was of the opinion that that _di'kut_ , Xanatos, wasn't worth her time. The rest of the _jetiise_ were either off world or bedridden. 

If she'd had no access to those more trusted information sources, she would have gritted her teeth and sent out a round-about request for Master Jinn to come speak with her. Happily, she did have other options. Master Dooku and Master Plo would suit her purposes. How the _jetiise_ responded to her suggestion of a visit would be very telling.

It took a gratifyingly short amount of time for the _Mand'alor_ 's _ad'e_ to stop by her workshop, and to her satisfaction they had both Master Dooku and Master Plo in tow. Good. These two at least knew how to be polite. That was fortuitous for them all, considering that Master Dooku would be staying on Mandalore for the foreseeable future. 

Per their usual habit, the _ad'e_ stood off to one side of her shop, helmets tucked under their arms, and waited for her to notice them. Surprisingly, the _jetiise_ followed suit, both of them waiting patiently with their hands tucked into their sleeves. 

Ardanna took a moment to come to a stopping point on her current project. She wanted to talk to them all, but no one benefitted from unseemly haste. If she'd been truly mad at them, she would have made them wait until the project was complete. 

They were such polite _verd'ike_. It made her smile under her helm.

She set aside her work, noting carefully where she'd left off in the seam she was welding, and stood to acknowledge the waiting group.

" _Verd'ike. Jetiise_ ," she said with a nod to both groups. 

Ben made a smooth bow. "Pardon our tardiness, Ardanna. We took minimal damage during the attack. Our armour is still in good shape, so we only thought to spare you more time to work on more pressing needs."

Kriff, but that boy was a smooth one.

"If we'd known you were on the debrief list, we would have come by sooner," Cody added. 

She hummed thoughtfully. It was as she suspected. They were simply uneducated, as yet. Perhaps she would need to speak to the _Mand'alor_ about that. He had been kept quite busy since his return from Korda VI and that near-disaster, but teaching one's _ad'e_ was important. 

That was something to consider a little more and act on later, though. In the now, their lack of knowledge was something that could easily be fixed. 

"Well spoken, _verd'ike_ ," she said. "You should always come see me after battle, if only to tell me of what your resupply needs will be." She tilted her head to the side and looked them over. "And as the _Mand'alor_ 's _ad'e_ , your take on what transpired will be important information. Not just to me, but to other _verd'e_ who wish to know the disposition of their leaders but have no time or access to hear the tale directly. Should there be something your _buir_ needs to unofficially spread news of, it must be told to me."

Generally, the position of armourer made Ardanna the keeper of knowledge. She collected all gossip and every tale. Sometimes she also relayed such things as well. 

Ben winced just the tiniest bit and his _vod'e_ looked suitably chastened. 

"And you," she said, shifting to look at the _jetiise_. "I am told you and your _verd'e_ fought well in defense of Mandalore, and that you did so by charging ahead of your troops, unarmoured, into a storm of blasterfire."

She made sure her tone was unimpressed. The ancient lore in her keeping gave her a general idea of what _jetiise_ were capable of. Ben's very public sparring and her own conversations with the _verd'ike_ led her to believe that the _jetiise_ could feel her emotions.

Thus, she made sure to very purposely feel as judgemental as she could, all focused on them. If they could feel it, excellent. If not, then it cost her nothing. 

Both Master Plo and Master Dooku bowed respectfully to her.

"We are Jedi, Armourer Ardanna," Master Plo said. His species was one she'd only heard of in stories. The Kel Dor. His ventilator was an interesting piece; she idly wondered at how exactly it was fitted to him. "We are peacekeepers. The Force is our armour."

She very slightly tilted her head towards Ben, who was now sporting an amusing blush. 

"Perhaps you should reconsider. Disregarding a second safety measure simply because you have a single bulwark in place already seems unwise," she said gravely. "For now, welcome to my workshop, _jetiise_. You may call me Ardanna."

She turned around and gestured broadly, inviting them to follow her towards her work bench.

"Ben. Come." She gestured for him to step forward. "Tell me of how your surcoat fared. The rest of you _verd'ike_ , resupply." She pointed towards the crates of baster cartridges along the wall. They nodded to her and very quickly hustled over to refill their belts and weapons. It was always nice to see _verd'e_ so excited for their weapons.

"It wore very well, Ardanna," Ben said, stepping forward. 

As she checked the seams and the wear points of his surcoat, Ben spoke of their battle. Some parts she had already heard in brief from others, but the actual liberation of the captive _ad'e_ was new information. 

She hummed at him after his story was done. 

"The _ad'e_ who were injured. Have you heard how they fare?" she asked. No doubt Ben would know. He was meticulous. 

"Recovering. Of the three, two remain in critical care, only waking for short periods of time," he said grimly. 

"The Jedi Temple is sending a Force Healer," Master Plo said. "She will care for our injured knights as well as look at the injured younglings, _Mand'alor_ willing."

How interesting. It spoke well of the _jetiise_. 

"Willing to fight and willing to heal," she said quietly. 

"We generally prefer the healing," Master Plo said. There was amusement in his deep voice projection.

"But we are willing to fight if need be," Master Dooku continued. The statement felt more like they were completing each other's sentences rather than contradicting each other. 

Ardanna gave Ben's surcoat one last tug. "It will do. For now. You will return in a month so that I can check on how it is wearing. This weave is experimental. I may have additional improvements to make to it." Before he could step away, she rested a hand on his pauldron. "Well done, _verd'ika_." She turned her head to make it clear that she was addressing all of the children. "You have protected _mando'ad_ younglings and fellow foundlings, with no thought given to what clan they are from. Foundlings are the future. This is the Way."

Somewhere in one of the back workshop rooms, Mira called out, "This is the Way!" It was the traditional response. Ben and his _vod'e_ might not yet know that. 

_Mando'ad'e_ often taught by example. They'd catch on. 

All of the little _vod'e_ nodded respectfully. From the slight furrow of their brows, they knew that there was something for them to learn here. Good. 

"None of the rest of you have need of repairs?" she asked. The _vod'e_ shook their heads. "And how did the Whistling Birds treat you?"

She'd equipped the little ones with tiny specialized personal missiles attached to their gauntlets, the Whistling Birds. Expensive things, they were made from _beskar_. So very useful, though, and she knew that these _verd'ike_ would use them wisely. If they hadn't already impressed her with their discipline, skill, and reverent treatment of their armour and weapons, she would have never have given them to ones so young. 

"We didn't need them for this battle, Ardanna," Cody answered. "We understand how valuable they are, and decided to keep them in reserve."

Ardanna found herself impressed all over again. Most _verd'e_ would be chomping at the bit to use their new toys. But these little ones had saved their most dangerous weapons for a time of great need. 

"Wise of you," she said approvingly.

Ben narrowed his eyes and glanced between her and Cody.

"What are Whistling Birds?" he asked. The slight frown on his face said he was a bit put out for not having heard of them yet.

"Short range miniature anti-personnel missiles, mounted on our gauntlets," Cody said, holding up his arm for inspection. 

"You gave them rockets?" Master Plo asked, his voice flat with disbelief. Master Dooku just blinked at her.

Ardanna hummed in agreement. "And grenades as well."

Several of the _vod'e_ gestured to their belts where the grenades were no doubt stored. Each little boy grinned with dangerous glee. 

Ben just snorted and rolled his eyes. 

"You could consider wearing some yourself, Ben," she offered. 

"No, thank you, Ardanna. My lightsabre is enough." Ben shook his head.

This was as she expected, so her disappointment was limited. Perhaps if she kept offering, he might agree. At the very least, the boy needed a back up blade. A knife, maybe. She wondered if there was such a thing as a dagger-length lightsabre.

She waved him back towards his _vod'e_. 

"Master Plo." Ardanna stood and took a few steps forward, meeting him halfway. He obliged her by walking to stand in front of her a comfortable distance away. "You are not staying on Mandalore once Death Watch has been brought to heel."

"I am not," he confirmed. 

No time to try and convince him to put some kriffing armour on, then. 

Although.

She leaned in and looked at his ventilator curiously. His physiology was different enough that she couldn't tell from his minute movements what his reaction was to her visual inspection was, but from his overall body language she guessed he was a bit surprised. It seemed likely that most beings didn't bother to be so obvious with their study of him.

"Your ventilator is not armoured," she said. There was clearly a metal covering of some kind, but at a glance it was a simple thin layer of durasteel. Maybe not even that. 

Now she _definitely_ got the impression that he was surprised. His metal covered tusks twitched and he tilted his head.

"It has a durable casing to protect the inner workings from environmental damage, but not armour as you might define it." His voice was even and calm. Not offended at all. Good. 

"The _verd'ike_ speak well of you, Master Plo, as do the Headhunters and Jango's Grunts," she said.

"I am honored by their good will," he responded gravely. 

She hummed. A cagey one, this Master Plo. 

"You say that Jedi do not wear armour, but this," she gestured at his mask, "is a piece of equipment that you require to function in our atmosphere, and, indeed, most others."

"It is."

"If you would send me the schematics, I will create better shielding for it, so that not even a stray blaster shot will damage it." 

She raised an eyebrow at him. Not that he would see it, but perhaps he could feel it. This was an honor she was offering him, and she only did so because Ben and his _vod'e_ so obviously enjoyed the _jetii_ 's company. She'd heard rumors of how excited they'd been when Master Plo had first arrived, and even now she could see how at ease they were with his presence. 

Master Plo was silent for a moment. "I may not be on Mandalore for much longer. A few weeks, perhaps."

"If it is not complete in time to fit it to you, then I will have my apprentice, Mira, forward the completed schematics to you on Coruscant. Though you may have to find another _beskar_ smith to have them properly forged." 

It was a generous offer, and one also didn't allow him much wiggle room to decline.

The _vod'e_ all looked up at him expectantly; their eyes were wide and hopeful. A lethal expression and one Ardanna had seen them use to devastating effect on Ben and the _Mand'alor_. 

After another moment of deliberation, Master Plo nodded. "Very well. Thank you for your efforts."

She nodded, and then turned to Master Dooku.

"Master Dooku. I understand that you will be staying on Mandalore for the foreseeable future."

"I am, Ardanna," he said with a respectful nod. 

"I also understand that it was you who killed Tor Vizsla."

At that, Master Dooku grimaced.

"I did best him in battle and he did die, but..." He shook his head sharply. "He threw himself on my 'sabre rather than surrendering."

Ardanna took a slow breath. Truthfully, she wasn't surprised. 

After a moment, Master Dooku continued. "He was an admirably skilled fighter, and the first non-Force sensitive being I have met who wielded a lightsabre."

"The Darksabre," she said, turning to take a seat back at her bench. "I know of it. Tell me, _jetiise_ , do you?"

Master Dooku and Master Plo exchanged a look.

Both shook their heads _no_. The younglings all perked up, with interest shining in their eyes. Good. This was part of their history now; they should know it. Especially since they were the _Mand'alor_ 's _ad'e_.

"It is a legendary blade," she began. "Forged over a thousand years ago by the first Mandalorian Jedi. First and only, until now." She looked at Ben. "The story goes that it was made by Tor Vizsla's ancestor, Tarre Vizsla. He served the Jedi Order with honor and forged his blade on Coruscant, ancient home of our people."

"What," Cody asked flatly.

"It is true. Once, many thousands of years ago, we _mando'ad'e_ were once people of Coruscant. That time is so long gone that it has nearly passed out of all knowledge, held only by us, the armourers, the Lorekeepers of our people."

Ben suddenly got this look of understanding on his face, and his mouth opened to a small 'o'. If the _jetiise_ masters had a similar epiphany, they kept it to themselves and held their body language neutral. 

"When Tarre Vizsla died, he left his blade enshrined in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. It was unique; if any being created another like it, then I and all who I have spoken to are unaware of such things."

Master Dooku frowned in thought. "It was an unusual blade, both in shape and color. I have never seen a black lightsabre before, nor one with a cutting edge as that weapon had."

"It was liberated from the Temple by Clan Vizsla in the Mandalorian Jedi Wars during the fall of the Old Republic," Ardanna explained. "Since then, it has been passed down through their clan. It is the symbol of the leadership of our people. Many say that the one who holds the Darksabre is the one who should be _Mand'alor_." She tilted her head in such a way that it expressed her dry amusement at this. "Clearly, the chieftains do not agree. Jaster Mereel is _Mand'alor_ , and the Vizsla Clan is filled with rabid _dar'manda_. Nevertheless, the one who holds it will have a better chance at challenging Mereel for his position."

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Challenging him for his position? Is there a specific ritual or procedure for that?"

"There is," Ardanna said warmly. Such a smart child, asking the right questions. "Anyone may challenge the _Mand'alor_ for his position. It is trial by single combat, any and all personal weapons and tactics are allowed, and it must be fought in the presence of at least one clan chieftain. Either party may choose a champion to represent them in battle. It is considered good form for the challenging party to have the backing of at least one clan chieftain, though exceptions have been made for challengers who belong to the _Mand'alor_ 's _aliit_."

"So Tor Vizsla could have challenged _buir_ at any time?" Cody asked. There was a small frown of confusion on his face. 

"He could have," she acknowledged. "But from all accounts, it is not in his nature to fight fairly, and Jaster Mereel is an excellent _verd_. There is also the matter of Clan Vizsla, who, up until the kidnapping of your _vod'e_ , had maintained their reluctant support of Mereel as _Mand'alor_."

"They were playing both sides," Master Dooku rumbled.

She nodded at him. "So it seems, _jetii_."

"Pre Vizsla has the Darksabre now," Ben said. He crossed one arm over his chest and stroked his chin with the other hand. A very serious expression for such a small youngling. Ardanna smothered her amusement. "His clan is currently being stripped of their holdings, and Pre is on the run."

"He'll have it out for _buir_ now," Cody said.

"And no one can interfere with the challenge?" Waxer asked.

"No one honorable would," Ardanna replied. "Should any interference happen, the challenge is declared null and void. Small comfort if the _Mand'alor_ is killed during the exchange. There are no rules against an immediate rechallenge, though it has seldom happened. Whoever wins the trial by combat would be proven the most powerful warrior; if the loser had someone more skilled than they to offer as champion, why not set them as champion in the first place? But consider this, _verd'ike_ , if Pre Vizsla challenges Jaster Mereel in a formal duel, I would be greatly surprised. One must be _mando'ad_ to issue a challenge, and Death Watch does not fit that description."

After the atrocities that the Death Watch inflicted on their own people, neither the True Mandalorians or the New Mandalorians considered the Death Watch anything other than excommunicated. They should hope that they have resupply chains of their own because no _mando'ad_ armourer would aid them now. 

"It is a possibility we will have to prepare for anyways," Ben said musingly. "If perhaps not a pressing one."

"As you say, _verd'ika_." Ardanna nodded at him. He'd heard her wisdom on the matter; it was his choice how to use it. She turned her attention to Master Dooku again. " _Jetii_. If you are to be stationed here, and leading frontal assaults, you should look to Ben's good example." She allowed herself a long look up and down his ridiculously tall form. "And before you argue, consider this: you are liaison to Mandalore, your words will carry more weight and be more respected if you show some _shred_ of self preservation."

Master Dooku's expression didn't overtly change, but there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He bowed to her. "I shall take it under advisement, Armourer Ardanna."

She reluctantly nodded at him. He might be a _jetii_ master, but she was a master in her own right. She'd wear him down. 

"Is there anything more you have for me?" she asked, not really expecting much. They'd covered the battle in admirable detail. A very clean, concise report. She was pleased and impressed. 

"Yes, actually," Wooley said, speaking up. "If you were serious about the apprenticeship thing... uh. I'd like to see if it would be a fit for me?"

A little jolt of pleasure raced through her and she straightened upright on her stool. These _verd'ike_ were very disciplined, and very meticulous. This would be an apprentice she could impart a great deal to. He would work with diligence and care; the only limit would be his youth, and that would change with time. 

Ardanna was not a young woman anymore, but she was not old yet, either. She had time to train an apprentice worthy of the finest masters of her calling. 

"If you start on this path, it will take many, many years before you can call yourself Master. It will test you in ways that will surprise and tax you," she warned. "I am not an easy teacher, though I try to be fair."

Wooley very nearly snapped to attention. The only thing missing was the salute. "I am up for the challenge, Master Armourer."

He glanced nervously at Ben, who just smiled encouragingly. An interesting byplay. Ben was ever the little general, leading his men. Ardanna bit back a surge of fondness. 

"There are a few matters we must take care of before I can start," Wooley said. "Would it be alright to delay for a week or two?"

Ardanna nodded. "I will need to clear out a workshop for you, and move Mira into the senior apprentice's 'shop. She's mostly moved in there already, but a young smith needs their own space. After that we will have a three month trial to see if you are truly suited to this path."

"That would be good," Wooley said with relief. 

Before the lot of them could take their leave, Ardanna held up a pointed finger to them. "You and your _vod'e_ are a fighting unit. All know this. During a normal apprenticeship, the apprentice gives up the right to go out on missions or contracts while studying. _However_ ," she said sharply to avoid the burst of unhappy commentary, "I understand your commitment to your _vod'e_ and your General. I will not bar you from those excursions that you feel are necessary, but you _will_ clear your departures with me."

All of the _vod'e_ were sharing looks with each other now, mostly determined and resigned. 

Wooley pressed his lips together, but nodded. "Yes, Ardanna."

She tilted her head at him and leaned in, as if sharing a joke. "If you do not, how can I equip you with the best weapons and armour that have ever graced this room?"

Grim looks turned into excited grins. 

"Yes, Ardanna." Wooley smiled, bright and happy at her.

"No one attacks an armourer and does not regret it," she said smugly. She waved a hand at them all. "You are free to go. Come back when you need repairs, or you have something interesting for me to look at."

Her visitors took themselves out, and Ardanna turned back to her project on her workbench with a satisfied smile. Yes, this could work out quite nicely for everyone.

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

The three days following their return to Sundari were very busy ones for Jaster. 

First, there was the Council. Always the kriffing council. 

They'd become significantly more tractable after the success of the raid on the mine labor camp. The True Mandalorians were impressed and satisfied with the well executed attack and the New Mandalorians were grudgingly accepting of the minimal loss of life. They still very vocally complained about the violence of the attack, but given the shockingly low death count, Jaster was certain that they weren't bitching as hard as they could have been. 

Everyone was beyond appalled by the proof that children were being used as slave labor. More _ad'ike_ were found with every successful raid. It grated against them all, and that had helped smooth the way towards a more functional working relationship. Not only that, but Jaster had managed to further solidify his position as _Mand'alor_. He'd helped broker and then followed through on compromises. And it had _worked_. He'd found that there was just a little less opposition against him, after that.

It was a welcome relief. 

Then there were the _jetiise_. 

To Jaster's endless relief, the _jetiise_ that were still functional were, by and large, incredibly useful. He'd been able to send them out with _verd'e_ on missions and get shockingly quick results. Rumor from his _verd'e_ had it that his people were cautiously in favor of Plo and Dooku, still pretty kriffing dubious about Jinn, and wanted to punch the padawan in the face. Apparently, the little snot was a bit of a stuck up prick. Albeit not enough of one that anyone had actually laid hands on him, though, thank _manda_. 

The knights were looked at with a little more respect and indulgence. He'd heard that several of his _verd'e_ had taken to stopping by to visit the critically injured knights to commiserate with them about battles past, to bitch at them about how karking stupid they were for not wearing armour, or both. Generally both. It was a good sign. Those knights had stepped in between _mando'ad'e_ and death, and everyone knew it. 

There were promising signs from the knights still out in the field as well. They were getting along well with the _verd'e_ , which was more than Jaster had hoped for, to be honest. 

Dooku was living up to his job as liaison between Mandalore and the Jedi. He was very diligent about being on hand to smooth out any potential wrinkles between the two groups and to consult on what the _jetiise_ were able to do to help and what everyone could expect. His manner was formal and occasionally foreboding, but he was concise and upfront about what his people could offer. It was refreshing. 

So that wildfire was mostly under control. 

_Verd'e_ were still scouring Concordia, now with the benefit of additional information pried from Clan Vizsla's unwilling hands. Jaster knew, he just _knew_ , that Pre Vizsla was going to show up again at some point in the future to be a pain in the _shebs_. But his gut told him that it wouldn't happen soon. The combined efforts of the _jetiise_ and the _verd'e_ along with the New Mandalorians' support was more than Death Watch could handle. It had been a handful of days, and the bastards were on the run.

Not gone. Not yet. But getting there. 

Sith-hells, Jaster had never expected this little civil war to start off so well -- or calm back down to a low simmer so quickly. He'd kept his eyes peeled for it to go to shit at any moment. 

Which brought him to his current problem. 

Three days on planet had turned out to be long enough for his _ad'e_ to start getting antsy.

That was an understatement, really.

Ben and his _vod'ike_ were prepared to steal a ship and fly up to Concordia themselves, probably annexing half of Jaster's available _verd'e_ in the process. There were about a dozen reasons that Jaster couldn't let that happen. 

So, so many reasons.

Now he just had to convince Ben to stay put.

He felt like he'd have more luck convincing the New Mandalorians to suddenly become cannibals. 

_Has to be done_ , he reminded himself. Worst case scenario, he could try to pull rank. It likely wouldn't work, or his _ad'e_ would just find creative loopholes, but he needed to do something.

Luckily, he had several good arguments he could pose before he hit that extreme. Ben would agree with him on most of them.

Jaster hoped. 

He planned his attack for their family dinner time, and allocated several hours in his schedule to make sure that he had enough time to thoroughly convince his stubborn boys that he knew what he was about. It was tempting to try and bribe them with extra delicious food, but he knew it would never work. Better to play this like everything was normal.

The boys were pent up balls of energy. They covered it well -- unnaturally well, really -- but he could still tell. That lined up with some of the things that he and Jango had talked about during the deep hours of the night when they were sure that most, if not all, of the _vod'e_ were asleep. 

None of those _ad'e_ knew how to rest. All of them were perpetually waiting for the next mission. 

Jaster would change that. He had political reasons to keep them out of the fighting, yes, but there were common sense ones, as well. Privately, he had concerns as their _buir_. The way they were constantly on edge wasn't healthy. They were men at war and they _didn't need to be_.

He'd keep that reasoning to himself. 

Clearly, he wasn't doing a very good job of obfuscating his eventual conversation plans, though, because it only took about ten minutes for Cody to call him on it, and the delay was likely only because he was as busy stuffing his face as his _vod'e_ were. The sheer joy that they all showed while eating was equal parts pleasing and heartbreaking. 

"So what's bothering you, _buir_?" Cody asked after he'd finished his second plate full of curry. He was still serving himself another helping, though his momentum had slowed down quite a bit. 

Jaster took the opportunity to finish chewing his bite before answering. The few extra seconds granted him a chance to figure out his first salvo. He should have known that they'd take the direct approach. He'd return it in kind.

"I won't be authorizing you all to go out on combat missions to deal with Death Watch," Jaster said. He set down his fork to give all of his _ad'e_ a searching look. "Jango will be taking part in some of them, but not many. You eight... I'd like you to stay here in Sundari."

He raised his hand for quiet before he could get any cutting remarks or bursts of outrage. From the looks on all of their faces, he had a very limited time to say his piece before they unanimously and silently decided to defect. 

"Hear me out, please," he said softly. 

That earned him a little lessening of the tension, but the _vod'e_ looked grimly offended and Ben... Ben looked utterly blank. Not a good sign.

Jaster sighed and grabbed his napkin, wiping his face absently and then tossing it onto his lap. 

"I have... several reasons." He grimaced. Jango gave him a tight smile of support. "One of the big ones is that an impressive amount of the recent goodwill between the various clan factions has been generated by the mutual outrage against the Death Watch's treatment of the kids found in the raids. You eight have proven to me, and everyone else, that you are all capable warriors, and your help with the mine attack was..." He struggled to find the right word. "Reasonable. It was _right and just_ that you would personally go out to help rescue your _vod'e_. As unpleasant as it was for the chieftains to agree to sending a group of _verd'ike_ that still appear to be children out into a firefight, you had cause to go and were known to be capable." 

"It will be more difficult for you to justify sending your underage _ad'e_ into combat without this reasoning," Ben said, jumping the gun. He didn't sound happy about it, or even convinced of the validity of the statement. He was just stating where Jaster was going with the conversation.

Damn, that kid was smart. 

"Yes." Jaster nodded. "Especially given their current outrage. If I continue to allow you to go on combat missions, I show them that I am no better than the Death Watch."

"You're _not_ like those _dar'manda hut'uun'e_!" Boil snarled. Waxer put a hand on his shoulder, and the rest of the _vod'e_ looked mutinous. 

Warmth fluttered in Jaster's chest. He had such good kids. 

"Thank you, _ad_ ," he said softly. "Look, I know that you are more than you appear to be. My council doesn't. Nor do I think it would be wise to tell them."

There was a slight loosening of Ben's expression. A small frown and a smidge of softening of the line of his shoulders. That was progress.

"Reasons, you said." Ben looked at him expectantly. "As in, more than one."

Jaster didn't miss the fact that Ben hadn't agreed or disagreed with that first bit. Reserving his arguing power for later, probably. Feeling out the enemy. Not that Jaster was the enemy here, but the principle was the same. He knew very well that it would be primarily Ben that he would have to convince, though even getting Cody on his side would help. Ben was their general. They'd follow his lead. 

Jaster nodded. "Despite the fact that sending you out would probably piss off nearly everyone I'm trying to work with right now, I still might be tempted... if it weren't for the fact that you are of more help to me here. Ben, Cody, both of you know strategy and tactics as well as or better than anyone else I have on hand to consult with, and you are both significantly better at security and large scale logistics. If I send you out raiding camps, then I lose that advantage. The Council would bitch up a storm if I put you on a dropship, but I can probably get them to agree to letting one or both of you into Council meetings on at least a semi-regular basis."

That lowered the tension in the room another notch. Cody and Ben shared another one of those inscrutable glances. Even odds that they were actually sharing thoughts; Jaster didn't really want to know. 

"That's something for Cody and Ben to do, but honestly there's no way in hell I'm sending some of you out and not others," he added. "That would be stupid, and a waste. I'd rather you all together watching each other's backs."

"That... does seem like something we could help with," Cody said cautiously. 

Oh, thank kriff, this was working. Time to pile on more leverage. Overkill was underrated. 

"Also," Jaster said, catching their interest again. "The clinic is nearly finished rebuilding. Or at least, their surgery center is. I know that getting those chips out is a priority for you all... So that could be a thing to look into. With the extra security measures and the increased support from the Clans, I think it would be safe enough to consider. Whenever you want to do that."

His _ad'ike_ twitched, sitting upright in their seats. Yeah, he knew that was something that they wanted. Badly. Helix had dropped a few hints to him about it, and Jaster had made sure that the clinic's refurbishing was a priority. It would have been anyways; they were fighting Death Watch and they needed all the medical facilities that they could get. This was just a nice added benefit. 

He had one last card to play. He hoped it wouldn't get taken poorly.

Jaster fiddled with his napkin and let his eyes drop.

"Last... You all are my _ad'e_. Longshot, Crys, I know that you're both fine. You held up admirably under being captured, and I am ridiculously proud of you all." Jaster looked up to make eye contact with them, to try and impress on them how serious he was being. "I also know that you are all used to pushing yourselves to your limits, and beyond, if need be. But I'm an old spacer. I've been a merc for years and I know how quickly that can chew a _verd_ up. There is enough for you all to do here and still be useful, and thanks to you all, I have _six_ _jetiise_ out there, along with more _verd'e_ support than I think I have ever had." His tone had taken on a slightly pleading edge, and he didn't like that one bit.

Jaster took a breath and recentered himself. 

"It would ease something in me to know that I am giving you all proper time to heal and to care for yourselves before tossing you into the meat grinder again," he finished.

His _ad'e_ were so reluctant to accept that others might value them, so ready to throw themselves into harm's way for others. There was a time and a place for that kind of self sacrifice, but this fight was not it. 

"If we truly need you, I'll call on you, but for now... Stay here? Help me wrangle the council and spend some time properly resting and recovering," Jaster said. 

He fell silent. Anything more would be too much, and he knew it. Hells, he'd probably already said too much. 

Ben and Cody were doing that silent communication thing again. Helix had an expression on his face that was somewhere between triumphant and dubious. Waxer, Crys, and Longshot were watching Ben, and Boil was watching Waxer. 

Jaster pinched the bridge of his nose.

He was kriffing certain that other people didn't have to do this much convincing with their pre-teen _ad'e_.

Although he also didn't have to deal with hormonal mood swings yet. Kark, he wasn't looking forward to the moment they hit puberty and it hit back. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad because they'd already gone through it once?

Right. Sure.

"I, for one, would like to see the rest of the chips out as quickly as possible," Helix said, weighing in. 

"And once that's done, we need to get the bonds settled," Waxer added. "I don't..." His gaze flickered to Jango and Jaster. "We really all need to figure that out."

Cody hummed, but didn't indicate if he was for or against it.

"I could spend time with Ardanna," Wooley said hesitantly. Jaster raised an eyebrow at him, causing the _vod_ 's cheeks to color. "There was some talk of me starting an apprenticeship."

Jaster raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That's unexpected. Ardanna is really particular. She's got an older apprentice, but Mira is just a couple years out from starting her own shop, so it wouldn't be that unusual for Ardanna to pick up a second, younger, student." He smiled and leaned in over the table. "She'd work you hard, but she's a fair teacher, and her skills are without peer. A clan armourer is a special position. If you impressed her enough for her to offer, it's worth considering."

He knew that Ben still had hope that they would make it back to their own time. Jaster prefered to plan for contingencies just in case they didn't. 

Ben tapped his fingers on the table as he thought. It was a kindness. Jaster knew that if Ben didn't want to give off any tells, he wouldn't. 

"Alright, _buir_ ," Ben said. "We'll stay in Sundari." Before relief could completely crash down on Jaster, Ben added, "For a month. That should give us enough time to finish the surgeries, and set up any additional upgrades to sector security, as well as lay out proper plans of action for the available forces."

"Alright," Jaster said, nodding his head. He sort of wanted to weep with relief, but didn't dare let on. "We'll revisit this in a month then, and see if there remains any reason to keep you all out of the fight. And if something else insane happens and you cannot physically stop yourselves from getting involved --" he gave them all a hard look, "-- then I expect to hear about it before you do anything crazy."

"A little heads up would be nice," Jango added with a long-suffering air. 

The chorus of, "Yes, _buir_ ," would have been more convincing if seven out of eight of them weren't wearing shit-eating grins. Ben alone held himself to a wide-eyed innocent look that was about as believable.

Jaster let out a long sigh and grabbed his fork to stab his food. "You all are gonna make me go grey," he muttered.

When snickers broke out around the table, he knew that they'd taken that comment in the spirit it was given. 

He'd managed to convince them, mostly, and no one was glaring daggers at him either.

Good.

One less thing he needed to worry about.

\--


	25. Chapter 25

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Being forced by his circumstances _not_ to act had always chafed at him, and this time was no exception.

It had been maybe a rotation and a half since their _buir_ had spoken to them about it, and what he'd suggested had gotten the _Vod'e_ to all but tie themselves in knots.

They'd immediately decided that, if they couldn't take part in the campaign, they should finish the process of having their chips removed. Which, seen logically and strategically, made sense. Ben could see that; they had the downtime, and it was something that was important to them. Something they'd been waiting nearly a month to get done.

In the morning, Cody would be getting knocked out for the surgery.

The thing was... that state of affairs meant that the seven of his men were on edge, and Cody most of all -- which Ben knew really wasn't helping his own mood one bit.

Sure, afterwards he would be taking part in upcoming council meetings, he thought to himself, feeling the frown tug at his lips. Sure, he'd be keeping watch as the last four of his _Vod'e_ finally had their chips removed. Sure, he and Cody had already spent several days overhauling the security on the palace and then Sundari itself. Sure, he had his role to play as unofficial liaison to the Jedi, supporting Master Dooku and making sure that nothing karked up the good working relationship that was tentatively growing between the two groups.

It wasn't as though there was nothing to do but sit around and wait. He had all kinds of things to consider and prepare for.

And yet, it still itched at his hindbrain. He couldn't seem to meditate his annoyance away or clear his mind of it, either, which was maddening.

"General?" Crys asked, "What're you worrying about this time?"

Ben bit back a sigh and forced his shoulders to relax.

"Nothing of any import," he replied and sat back against the sofa, where he'd settled himself an hour or so ago. "Just still frustrated that we have to stay behind while others hunt down the remnants of the Death Watch."

Crys, Waxer, and Longshot had calmed down significantly over the course of the last rotation and didn't feel the need to stay glued to his side any longer, but Ben could see the way the trio was sticking close to him anyway. They were lounging on the floor, their shoulders pressed together and leaning against one another, with Boil carelessly pressed up close to his _riduur_. None of them was within arm's reach of him, but they visibly couldn't _quite_ convince themselves to leave the room, either.

"We've got plenty of responsibilities here. You're just too kriffing used to being on the front lines," Cody told him with an arch look, distracting him from his thoughts about his troopers' separation anxiety.

Ben turned to face his Commander -- who was sitting on the other end of the sofa, leaning against the armrest with his legs stretched out towards Ben -- just so he could give the _Vod_ a sardonic look in return.

"You're a fine one to talk, Commander," Helix muttered from where he had ended up tucked into Cody's side, securely between his _Vod_ and the back of the sofa. Wooley was carelessly sprawled out beside Boil. 

"All of us are," Waxer agreed. "I feel it, too."

"You sure that's not just your bond with the General?" Helix asked him, voice desert dry. "You're still working on your shielding, _Vod_."

Waxer made a face at him. "Okay, so it's probably both of us. But still."

"At least you're getting better at it?" Wooley offered, his tone falling somewhere between amused, reassuring, and mocking.

Boil nodded. "There is that. It'll be good to have you three to help the rest of us get oriented."

"Oh? What do you think I've been attempting to do for you these past two weeks, Boil?" Ben verbally prodded at him, bemused.

"Get us used to meditating," Boil responded promptly. "And that did help, sir, but we're going to need time to get used to not being able to feel our _Vod'e_."

Waxer nodded emphatically. "Shielding tightly makes it feel like you're dead, in the network. That's always been a bad thing, before. The lighter shields you've been teaching us help with that, but it's still..."

The words trailed off and Waxer shrugged a bit helplessly instead, but their impact remained. All of the _Vod'e_ winced.

Cody took it one step further. Ben saw him shudder, and felt the way the Commander's presence went suddenly anguished in the Force.

"I'm trying not to think about that, _Vod_ ," he said, his tone containing a slight snap of reprimand.

Waxer flinched, just the slightest bit, his frustration at not being able to offer a proper apology leaking out into the bond Ben shared with him. With a nod, Waxer acceded to the implied demand and kept his mouth carefully shut. The rest of the troopers gave the impression of wanting to reach out and offer support but being unsure whether it would be accepted.

Well. All of them save Helix. The medic simply wrapped his arms around Cody's waist and leaned in close. If he said something to Cody, the words were quiet enough to be lost to the rest of them.

Ben found that didn't bother him. It was a relief to know that at least one of the _Vod'e_ knew how to shore up their leader, even if the others felt themselves bound not to by the constraints of rank, or whatever else. 

Seeing the way Cody relaxed, incrementally, slowly, Ben decided that little issue was... well, under control, at least. It certainly wasn't resolved. That much was obvious.

Thinking back to what Cody had said about rebuilding networks, that afternoon two weeks ago when they'd first formed the bonds, Ben had a sudden suspicion he knew why shielding and its effects were bothering Cody so much.

_Kriff. I was hoping I was wrong._

The shock of dismay that thought sent through Ben had three of the five _Vod'e_ lounging on the floor looking curiously up at him, but he carefully didn't acknowledge their wordless request for information. 

Now wasn't the time to open _that_ can of worms. Not in the last few hours before Cody was going to allow himself to be knocked out long enough for his own chip to come out. All seven _Vod'e_ were on high alert, and, considering what had happened the last time they'd been at the clinic, waiting for one of their own to have a chip removed, Ben couldn't blame them. 

He knew, bone deep, that this was going to be very difficult for Cody to weather. In fact, Ben bit back the frown he felt trying to tug at his features at the idea, it might not be a bad idea for him to prod Cody into taking advantage of the Jedi healer's presence on Mandalore. Just knowing that Master Plo and Master Dooku had requested one... made him uneasy. The thought that it was _necessary_ for the recovery of the pair of wounded Knights even moreso. But maybe it could bring his troopers some benefit as well, despite his own intense dislike of dealing with healers, be they Jedi or clone medics.

Crys cleared his throat quietly, getting the room's attention. "Maybe we should sack out," he suggested. "Tomorrow won't be an easy day on any of us."

Longshot nodded. "That's not a bad idea, _Vod_. Even if we don't sleep just yet, being close will help."

Ben hesitated. He'd never quite dared make this offer to Cody before, not wanting to overstep, but... "If it would help, I can put you to sleep like I did for Longshot," he put in, not naming any names and just leaving the offer open.

To Ben's surprise, _Helix_ was the first one to accept, making a face as he spoke.

"I hate to admit it, but I think I might need the help," he said, and got a grumble of agreement from the group of _Vod'e_ tangled together on the floor.

"Just knowing I'll be in charge for a day has me all in knots," Waxer said with a tight smile, as he gently ribbed the others. "I'm going to need every minute of sleep I can get, to keep them in line. I just know it."

Helix snorted. "Get yourselves ready, then," he suggested pointedly. "We'll be more comfortable in our bed than out here, anyway."

Ben didn't miss the way the medic gave Cody a squeeze, offering comfort that Cody gratefully accepted.

"Might as well, I suppose," he said, and got to his feet, careful not to step on anyone as he moved.

By the time he'd managed it, Cody was already up, and Helix was working his way out of the sofa cushions' embrace.

Before he knew it, the others were on their feet too and he was being gently steered into their sleeping quarters. It didn't take them long to strip off their armour, take their turns in the 'fresher to clean up, then position themselves on the three scavenged mattresses they used as their bed.

There was, Ben noted, a space left very carefully open for him next to the Commander, as per usual. But, rather than pick out their usual sleeping partners, all of the _Vod'e_ had arranged themselves around Cody and Helix, making sure they could get skin contact with the pair of them. 

Ben shook off his reverie and went to clean himself up, hastily, then gingerly waded in. It was still strange to think that his very lethal _Vod'e_ were so happy to act like crèche younglings in their sleeping habits. Not bad. But strange.

He couldn't deny that he found it comforting, as well, he admitted to himself, now that he was getting used to that level of touch again.

"Everyone settled?" He asked once he was seated, and got seven nods. "Which of you would like me to help, then?"

Boil gave him a sheepish look. "All of us, I think. Unless the Commander would prefer not...?"

Cody huffed at him. "If I say no, I'll just end up staring at the ceiling all night," he admitted, in an uncharacteristic show of what he'd have normally considered weakness. "Whenever you're ready, General," he invited.

Cody's words were as crisp and formal as ever, but, Ben noticed, his eyes were pleading.

"Oh, for you, I can be ready anytime, Commander," he replied, trying to lighten the mood in the room, and got a few snickers in reply. "Just relax, all of you."

A wicked smirk teased at his lips. He couldn't resist the joke. "Lie back and think of the Republic."

That got the snickers to turn into chuckling and Ben felt their tension ease noticeably.

"Yes, just like that," Ben grinned back and then sobered a little as he focused his will and reached for the Force. He wouldn't need much. Just enough to suggest. His men were willing, and they _wanted_ the sleep. "Close your eyes," he said, keeping his voice low, and even, rhythmic and soothing, "rest. Let yourselves relax. I've got the watch, tonight. _Morut'yc, Vod'e._ "

With grateful sighs and murmurs, they obeyed. Ben felt them fall asleep one by one, the familiar comforting buzz around the four still-chipped clones going muted and soft. Cody, in typically stubborn fashion, held out the longest against the suggestion.

His eyes met and held Ben's, and it felt like a moment that could and would stretch out into infinity, if he let it. Then Cody's bright amber eyes fell shut and he seemed to abruptly go limp with the release of the tension in his shoulders. 

Letting himself lie back and feeling the way he was immediately welcomed into their arms without hesitation, Ben couldn't help the half-smile that tugged at his lips. His _Vod'e_ would come through this. He'd make sure of it. The sheer trust and welcome they radiated... that alone would have been reason enough for him to help, in any and every way he could.

Ben settled himself in to keep watch, as he'd promised. Dropping into the form of meditation he used on ground campaigns when there were so few men with him that he took a turn on sentry duty, himself, Ben stretched out his senses and then allowed his mind to drift.

A pair of familiar Force signatures and the sound of their door chime jolted him out of his meditation what felt like mere minutes later. "You awake, _vod'ike_?" Jango's voice rang out in their foyer.

Helix groaned, opening his eyes and then immediately screwing them shut again. "Kark, did we oversleep?"

The others stirred around him and got to their feet one by one, prompting Ben to follow suit. It didn't take them long to put their armour back on. Cody wordlessly helped him get his surcoat in place and then caught Boil's eyes. "Be nice if we didn't have to skip our caf," he grumbled.

"Boy, you said it, Commander," Boil answered. "I can already feel the headache coming on."

Waxer snorted and plastered himself to his _riduur_ 's back long enough to wrap his arms around Boil's waist and drop a kiss on the nape of his neck. "Don't worry, I'll bring you some the moment they give us access."

Ben had to shake his head. The sheer sap. Those two were incorrigible.

"Well, _vod'ike_?" Jango prompted them again. "Get moving."

"You don't want to be late," their _buir_ added with audible amusement as Wooley, Crys, and Longshot left the room, still blinking blearily at the world.

Ben followed them out, going through the familiar motions of clipping his sabre to his belt as he moved, and felt the other four _Vod'e_ do the same. Stifling a yawn, he caught up to the trio of _Vod'e_ in their dining area and blinked. "Do you think you've packed a large enough picnic, _buir_?" He asked drolly.

The _Mand'alor_ shrugged. "Just supplying enough calories for you eight is already a tall order," he teased. "And if Masters Koon and Dooku join you in keeping watch, as they hinted they might, it's only polite to offer them something, as well."

Ben blinked, surprised. He hadn't been aware that the other two Masters had been considering that. "Oh? What prompted them to make that decision, I wonder," he drawled, leaving his implications hanging in the air. 

That was almost certainly his _buir_ 's influence at work.

"When _buir_ mentioned that I'd be at the clinic with you, they both hinted that they would like to accompany us. Said they wanted something else to do for a few hours," Jango put in. "Something that wasn't logistics or planning or otherwise purely military in nature. I guess constantly dealing with their injured knights or the ones currently in the field is tough work for a _jetii_."

Ben wasn't sure what to think about that. His _Vod'e_ , however, were vocally in favour of the plan.

Helix nodded. "Having them there will mean the General can take it a bit easier."

"And Master Plo will know how to keep everyone in range calm," Waxer added.

Boil smirked. "Master Dooku will just terrify them all into obedience," he joked. 

That comment got a snicker out of Jango. "He's generally a decent man, for a _jetii_ , based on what I've seen, but he's definitely practiced that intimidating look a lot."

With an amused shake of his head, their _buir_ got them moving. "Alright, march," he demanded. "The _jetiise_ are meeting us in the courtyard. I have to be back here after the midday meal, but until then, I can keep you company, as well."

A group of substantially less tense _Vod'e_ picked up a share of the packed food each, then left their apartments and made their way down to the courtyard, eager to see Master Plo even if the occasion for it was an uncomfortable one.

Ben followed in their wake with Cody as his side and their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ playing rear guard. 

Neither of them showed their tension outwardly, but Ben could feel it in the Force, and he knew it would only ease when they saw the two planned surgeries go smoothly. And preferably uninterrupted by further attacks. 

That thought made him scowl. No way was he allowing _that_ to happen again. And he knew the five _Vod'e_ who weren't going to be knocked out and operated on would be right there beside him, scouring the clinic to make as kriffing sure as they could that there were no more hidden surprises.

Having Master Plo, their General _Buir_ , at their backs would only serve to spur them on even as it reassured them that nothing bad could happen.

Between him and Master Plo and Master Dooku, there would be next to no chance of the clinic going up in flames again.

And -- Ben poked carefully at the Force -- he wasn't getting any bad feelings about this.

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

He came to with a groan.

He didn't hurt, except for a dully throbbing patch of skin by his left temple, but even that was distant. Muted. _Force, what hit me?_

His hand was grabbed, and he realised he'd unconsciously reached up to touch whatever it was that was bothering him.

"No, _Vod_ , leave that alone." Helix told him, prompting him to open his eyes, wince at how bright the room was, and hurriedly close them again.

Memory came back in a rush.

_The chip._

He was _finally kriffing free of the chip._

Cody let his hand fall back to the bed, but didn't try re-opening his eyes just yet. "The others?" His throat was dry as the deserts of Tatooine, but he managed to get the words out.

Helix picked up his hand and shoved a glass of ice into it.

"Most of them are running another patrol and checks of the various entrances and potential security holes," his CMO answered, giving him the run-down, knowing he would need to know. "Boil is in pre-op, you're in the recovery area. Soon, someone'll take you out to a private room where you can recover in peace. Well. More or less. I'm sure the General will want to keep you company. _Buir_ had to leave, but Master Plo and Master Dooku are still around."

With a nod, Cody finally dared crack his eyes open again, relieved when it didn't feel like the lights were trying to stab their way right through to the back of his skull this time, and started slowly working himself into a position that wasn't flat on his back, so that he might actually have a chance of swallowing properly. "Kenobi?"

"Also on the patrols. He's been very twitchy, with you out of commission," Helix told him, tone going really rather pointed.

Cody swallowed a couple of ice chips, groaning quietly when they soothed his scratchy throat. "Won't be for long."

That got him a snort. "You're kriffing well staying put until you're cleared, unless there's another bombing. I'll pull rank if I have to."

Rolling his eyes, Cody gave in. "Fine. Go scrub back up and watch over Boil. I know you're itching to."

Raising an eloquent eyebrow at him, Helix went. "I'll see you later, then, Commander. Everyone will be glad to see you're conscious again," he said as he left.

Closing his eyes again, Cody kept working his way methodically through his ice chips until a pair of nurses showed up, checked his vitals, and then started to briskly wheel the bed he was on into a private room and left again. Ordinarily any stranger that had dared get that close and attempt to put their hands on any part of him would've been asking for a punch to the face, but, luckily for them, he still felt like he was weightless and flying about three meters in the air. Clearly, he was on some karking good painkillers.

The trip out to that private room Helix had promised him went by in a blur of white ceiling tiles, off-white walls, and shiny metal glinting _extremely distractingly_ in his peripheral vision. It wasn't long before they'd put him where they wanted him, made a few notes about his condition, and then left again with a few more stern admonitions to stay in bed until he was cleared to leave it.

Unsurprisingly, Helix was right and Kenobi was in the room the instant the pair of nurses had cleared the doorway. "Cody! How are you feeling?"

Focusing his attention on his General and reaching out, Cody offered him a hand that was immediately taken and clasped tightly.

Taking advantage of Kenobi's hold, he tugged his _di'kut'la_ General closer until Kenobi got the message and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm _fine_ , sir," he said once Kenobi was seated and a bit calmer. "Just need a few hours for the drugs to clear my system."

The tension that had been driving Kenobi seemed to melt away, making him fight to keep his expression composed. The change left him almost slumped forward as he spoke, words quiet but brimming with relief. "Thank the Force. You have no idea how _wrong_ it feels not to have you shadowing me, you know," he joked, in an attempt to cover the emotion. "Turns out, I've grown quite used to having you around."

"It'd take more than this to really put me out of commission, General, and you know it." Cody turned his attention to the doorway, which had filled with watching _Vod'e_ who were quietly elbowing one another and smirking.

Cody wanted to sigh. They were going to harp on his (entirely inappropriate) attraction to Kenobi again, he could feel it. "Get in here," he suggested, in an attempt to derail that discussion. "Quit blocking the corridor."

Waxer grinned at him behind his bucket. Cody could hear it in his next words. "Corridor's plenty spacious, Commander, but I've got to admit, the room's more comfortable."

Wooley smacked Waxer's shoulder as he pushed past the Lieutenant. The others simply shoved Waxer farther into the room and then followed him in.

"Master Plo is watching over Boil and Helix for now," Crys said, answering the unasked question. "We've cleared the building twice, so the chances anything will happen are slim, but..."

"We all know how often General Kenobi and Ghost Company beat those kinds of odds." Longshot finished.

Kenobi sighed. "I'd protest, but, unfortunately, you're right about that."

"Happens pretty much without fail, sir," Cody pointed out. "When's the last time a campaign didn't go sideways on us at least once?"

Kenobi actually took a few seconds to think about that while the rest of the _Vod'e_ chuckled.

"I'm pretty certain the answer is 'almost never', General," Waxer said with a grin. "Even that very first mission we took, rushing to get to Geonosis under General Yoda's command to pick you and General Skywalker and the rest of the _jetiise_ up out of that arena..."

That had been a kriffing bad mission. Karked up totally, and that before they'd even been called into action.

"Nothing about that was my fault," Kenobi protested mildly, then glanced up at the empty doorway. Cody followed his gaze in time to see Master Dooku appear in it and survey the scene with a short satisfied nod.

"I hate to break up the party," the Master said with an amused glint in his eyes, "but Master Koon and I thought you might wish to know that the surgeons are ready to begin the next procedure."

The men were suddenly all business, and Waxer took charge -- despite his protests the evening before, he didn't mind taking the lead on certain tasks and was a reliable officer -- leading the rest of the _Vod'e_ back out of the room. "We'll be back later, Commander," he said, looking back over his shoulder. "General? Stay with him for now, we'll keep watch for Boil."

"If you have need of me, you know how to reach me," Kenobi responded, amused but accepting the command easily, for all that he vastly outranked Waxer. "I can keep my watch from here for the time being."

Cody rather suspected that that move on his Lieutenant's part was something they'd either discussed beforehand or that Kenobi had used their bond to communicate to Waxer somehow. Kenobi was very willing to take their suggestions and direction when it came to tactical or strategic matters, but usually they had to argue him into agreeing with logic and explanations first. Kenobi, for all his other faults, learned almost as quickly as they did themselves, and had a knack for seeing through the enemy's maneuvers and determining which ones were feints and which ones weren't. For him to simply _agree_ to one of Waxer's demands, like that...

He was sure there was some kind of ulterior motive behind it. Cody watched his men vanish around the corner of the doorway and Master Dooku follow them with a last polite nod at him and the General.

A short silence fell and held between them. Not a tense one, per se, but ... anticipatory, maybe. It was likely that the General had engineered them a chance to speak privately. Or, as privately as the setting would allow, anyway.

Cody let the silence stretch out.

Eventually, Kenobi would break it. And then maybe he would know what this was about.

When the General did finally speak, Cody almost wished he were still unconscious.

"You... what you said last rotation," Kenobi said slowly, picking his words carefully, "about not wanting to think about feeling your _Vod'e_ die in the bond... you've had that happen before. To very close _Vod'e_. Haven't you."

It wasn't -- strictly -- a question, and Kenobi was leaving him ample space to deny or deflect.

Cody looked away, unable to find the words to reply. It took effort, but he shoved back the memories that tried to come rushing back out of their box to drown him, swallowed hard, and said nothing. Kark, he felt so off-kilter.

It was as if his General's words had reached down into him and plucked a string that connected his gut to his throat. He felt like he was vibrating, like he might shake himself apart, if he wasn't careful. 

Kenobi nodded, as though that was just as good as an answer -- and maybe it was -- and then went on. "Together with your comment about losing and rebuilding networks -- and please tell me to just shut up if I'm overstepping my bounds or incorrect -- but I have the suspicion that dealing with the aftereffects of getting that chip removed might be... difficult for you. At first."

And then the memories _did_ come boiling up out of their box, shattering it as they went. The emotions hit him first this time, aided by the drugs.

Kriff it. _Kriff it to every Sith-burned karking hell._

Cody squeezed his eyes shut and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. He felt his chin dip low until it nearly hit his collarbone. Fighting not to let the tears fall, he took a shuddering breath through his nose as his arms came up to wrap around his own waist in a last-ditch attempt to hold himself together. 

Kenobi was suddenly there, wrapping warm arms around his shoulders and holding on tight. "Oh kark, I'm sorry, Cody."

A sob burst out of him, and Cody, mortified through his own tears, grabbed for the offered lifeline, clinging to his General. Wrapping his own arms around his General's less armoured waist and holding onto him just as tightly as Kenobi held him, a drowning man in a raging storm suddenly offered a rescue, he turned just enough to hide his face in his General's neck, the armourweave surcoat harsh against his skin and a welcome anchor in the now.

He didn't give a _kriff_ about the harshness. 

If not for that, this position would have felt too karking similar to the many times he'd wept bitterly for his batchmates -- and then for his squadmates and his _cyare_ \-- on Helix's shoulder, or Rex's or Wolffe's.

"I put my foot in it this time," Kenobi kept apologising even as he ran a comforting hand up and down Cody's spine. "Oh, Commander, _Cody_ , you don't have to suffer alone. I don't know the story behind this, and I will never force you to share it, but if you ever want someone to listen? I'll happily do that for you."

Cody, overwhelmed, simply clung to him harder.

Karking drugs.

"If it would make things easier, I can wait to complete the bond with you," Kenobi offered him. "Let you get used to having your _Vod'e_ around you again first."

With a shake of his head, Cody wordlessly rejected that idea. He hadn't wanted to network in. Still didn't. He'd get them all killed, again, and then he'd have to rebuild. _Again_.

If he even could.

He didn't know of any _Vod_ who'd survived to do that kind of thing twice.

He didn't want to find out if it was possible.

It had been hard enough the first time.

A hard shudder went through him at the mere thought. He preferred not to remember those days. Everything had felt futile, nothing had been worth doing. Even his test scores had suffered. He'd very nearly dipped below the acceptable ranges, where before he'd nearly been at the very top.

Rex had been a kriffing light in the darkness, then. The gyro pointing out the horizon. But he wasn't here now. Would never be, if they managed to prevent the War, Cody realised, and that thought made him fight for air, feeling like he'd been sucker punched. _Rex_.

_Vod, I need you here beside me, old boy._

A hand in his hair distracted him from that thought momentarily, but then gentle fingers started tracing the skin where his scar had once been -- _e chu ta_! He'd lost even _that_ small reminder of his squad, the lone physical souvenir of the day that had taken them from him, courtesy of a shard of shrapnel that had pierced his bucket.

"Easy, Cody, breathe," Kenobi reminded him, a steady firm presence -- one Cody had always been allowed to lean on, though he'd tried his best not to -- offering him a way back out of the mire of emotion he'd gotten stuck in. "Come on, I know you can do it."

Cody gasped in a gulp of air, and belatedly realised that his lungs had been spasming for the lack. His body immediately took advantage of the air to go tight and tense again. _Wolffe. Where was that stubborn_ Vod _when you needed him? Always running off after his own General._

The General that was temporarily watching over the last shreds of the 212th alongside Kenobi, right now.

Oh, and that was another thought that made Cody want to scream until his voice gave out on him. He'd lost everything but his General and a few men, and there was _nothing he could kriffing do about it_. His 7th Sky, the karking pride of the GAR, was simply _gone._ He had no commission anymore. No purpose. No war to fight. No idea what to do.

 _Mirshko would have known,_ he thought, and couldn't bite back the harsh pained sound the thought dragged out of him. _Cyare, I'm lost._

The General kept up his touches, offering a way back to the now, but Cody couldn't make himself take it. Force, _why did it have to be him?_

Why was _he_ somehow always one of the last men standing?

What the _kriff_ was so special about him?

He heard the General say something vaguely alarmed, felt the General's hold on him go tighter, worried, but the words sailed right past him.

Some part of him recognised that as important, but he couldn't find the willpower to shove his remembered emotion aside long enough to find out. It was too strong: a tidal wave of feelings that swept away everything in its path and left him fighting to stay afloat.

Another bout of harsh sobs wracked him, and he almost welcomed the way they stole his breath right away again. Then the world went oddly faraway. As though there was a layer of transparisteel between him and it, and that was oddly soothing.

Yes, a transparisteel box might well be the best place to put him. He wouldn't be able to hurt anyone from there. His _Vod'e_ and his General would be safe.

More arms went around him.

Worried -- familiar -- voices called for him.

His _Vod'e_.

No.

 _No._

He couldn't let them. He _couldn't_. He'd only--

Cody tried to push back, tried to struggle free, but something big and warm and heavy -- his General's touch in the Force -- shoved him right back into the position he'd been in.

Four sets of touch -- not the three he'd had after That Day and before their trip through time -- wrapped him up in offered comfort, and, try as he might, Cody couldn't refuse it, that time.

The network snapped into place with an almost physical wrench.

 _Crys._ Tech and logic and tenacity.

 _Longshot._ Distance and precision and fierce protectiveness.

 _Waxer._ Warmth and humour and devotion.

He got back a concerned, _Commander!_ from all three of them. _Authority and caring and steadfastness._

Somewhere else, farther away, _Helix_. Desperate hope and stubbornness and sheer tireless grit. _Wooley._ Dependability and determination and reassurance.

The five of them reached for him, steadied him. A non-physical hand on his shoulder, a hug so tight he could barely draw breath. A shoulder under his, and an arm around his waist. All of it contradictory and impossible, clashing with the inputs from his physical senses, but _there_ , nonetheless.

 _Present_ in a way they hadn't been for far too long, and hauling him back to his feet. Keeping him there and letting him find his balance. Letting him use them to recenter himself.

Cody took a hitching breath, incrementally relaxing into their hold, exhausted by the whole experience.

A hand tangled in his too-long curling hair, and scratched gently at his scalp. "There you are," his General said, relieved. "Kriff, if I'd had even the _slightest idea_ \--"

"Don't apologise." Cody cut him off, his voice so rough he barely recognised it as his own. "No one does. Except Helix."

Kenobi huffed at him. "Even so. My timing could apparently have been worlds better."

 _You don't say,_ seemed to echo in the air around him, the network responding to his own sardonic humour even as Cody thought it.

And that thought almost set him off again.

Little Force gods, but there was a _kriffing reason_ why he had been reluctant to let his _Vod'e_ network with him.

His troopers wrapped themselves around him again in the network and said, a bit derisively, more a feeling than words, _And that reason is karking nonsense._

The way all of his men responded to him in unison would probably have been eerie to someone who wasn't used to the way the _Vod'e_ were in tune with one another.

And then it hit him what they'd done, making him try to struggle free of their hold once more.

He'd get them all killed, and then he'd be stuck in the past, _alone_.

 _Nu draar,_ Helix responded fiercely, the emotion behind the words ringing like a karking bell in the network, and the others all followed, adding their own insistent denials to the medic's.

All of them wavered, the whole network feeling like it was tilting under the weight of that statement, and then Kenobi reached out to Waxer and Crys and Longshot, steadying them. Those three, in their turn, grabbed onto him and Helix, keeping them on their metaphorical feet until, gradually, the strong echoes of the network's stubborn refusal to let him go had died down enough that they didn't feel the need to cling to one another.

It still took a little while after that for the network to calm down enough to get a bit more comfortably settled. They'd be adjusting to his presence, now that it was there, and that thought made Cody want to flinch away from them again. He couldn't let himself get close, couldn't let himself get--

 _Commander,_ Waxer interrupted him with a sharp nudge that felt like an elbow to the bucket he wasn't wearing, _stop that._

He took a shuddering breath, feeling it catch in his throat, but forced himself to at least make an attempt to shove those thoughts back in their box. If his _vod'e_ were going to insist on his presence, the least he could do was keep from hurting them.

Kark, he'd have to actively try to make sure he didn't--

"Force, Commander," Crys muttered out loud, "what does it take to get you to stop worrying?"

Realising that his troopers had wrapped themselves around him, physically, just as much as they had latched onto him in the network, Cody had to fight not to try to struggle free again. The three _Vod'e_ in the room simply tightened their hold on him, pointedly, pinning him firmly in their arms, and said nothing more.

It took him a while longer to finally come to grips with the fact that he wouldn't be allowed to pull back from them, and once he did, once he managed to make himself relax, Cody was stunned to realise that what had felt to him like an emotional storm that lasted hours had actually only lasted about ten minutes in real time.

"That's it, _Vod_ ," Waxer said quietly. " _Morut'yc_. We've got you."

The room stayed quiet after that -- Cody wasn't sure exactly for how long; after what had happened, his sense of time was a little skewed -- as he worked to make himself relax. There was no escape now, not after the way he'd been dragged, kicking and screaming, into the network. He'd just have to make his peace with that fact, now, and keep them all alive.

It took time, fighting his ingrained habits as he was, but each tiny step forward was rewarded. All of the _Vod'e_ in the room made sure he could feel just how pleased and relieved they were to have him there. How it satisfied something in them that had gone hungry ever since the beginning of the War. All of them made sure to project just how much they _needed_ him there, how much they'd missed his presence.

He'd been keeping himself aloof for so long, though, keeping the number of _Vod'e_ in his network low, that having so many of them around and bombarding him with their emotions was getting overwhelming.

The physical inputs to his senses were starting to make him twitchy, too.

Gradually, the feeling of several sets of armour pressed against him began to make his skin feel too small for his body, and his _Vod'e_ pulled back. They all hesitated, but knew better than to cling stubbornly to him, letting him go inch by inch, and keeping a close watch to make sure he didn't lose his balance again.

No one spoke for another long minute. Instead, Crys silently stood up and went off in search of what turned out to be some more water and a small face towel. Longshot got to his feet and pulled off the plates of his armour, though he left the armourweave underlayer in place.

Waxer eyed him and then Longshot, nodded, and went to rummage through the small locker-like linen closet for a second blanket. Finding one, he handed it to their marksman. "We'd better go check in with the others," he said, then watched Cody closely for a second.

Longshot accepted his new apparent designation as body pillow with grace. "Go ahead, _Vod'e_. The General and I will hold down the fort."

"Comm me if you need my help," Crys said simply, helping Longshot get the blanket spread over his armourweave and pull Cody in close.

Cody considered protesting but he knew he'd just about exhausted himself already. He didn't have the energy to resist.

Time passed almost unnoticed, after that. The General occasionally closed his eyes and did something with the Force, but the hold he'd gotten on Cody in the Force never quite disappeared. A non-corporeal touch that both reminded him of what had just happened and also managed to soothe and reassure, somehow.

It was paradoxical and made no karking sense, but knowing his General was there, feeling the proof of it like that, was just as good as having one of his _Vod'e_ wrapped around him.

And then the medics were bringing Boil into the room, and Helix came with them. Cody tried to sit up, to stand long enough to check on his _Vod_ , and was simply pinned down again as Kenobi glared at him.

"I don't think so, Commander," the General said quietly, but firmly.

That time he fought it a little -- just enough to make his point -- then let them have the watch. Let himself just be, and recover from the day.

He hadn't felt the anguish and despair that strongly in years.

Helix gave him a _look_ , and Cody realised his _Vod'e_ could hear and feel him, now. He'd forgotten what that was like. How it felt to have more than one or two people _know_ him like that.

Kark. He'd have to find a way to--

"Don't." Helix told him.

Cody returned the _look_ with interest. "Don't _what_?"

Kenobi smirked at them, amused at the byplay, but didn't speak. He was being exceptionally quiet. Had been since everything had calmed the kriff back down in the wake of-- Cody shied away from the end of that thought.

"Don't shut us out, now that you've finally let us in," Longshot answered, and tightened his grip on Cody's waist. "We've been missing you without knowing it."

Oh.

Surprised to hear it spoken aloud, despite his earlier realisations, Cody didn't say anything in response, and the room went quiet again until Boil came around with a quiet pained whine. "Did someone get the number on that speeder?" He rasped, and his presence settled back into the network, sending a shiver through all of them.

And then, _Commander? Is that you?_

Cody shakily let himself reach out. _Boil._ Fondness and caffeine-addiction and a clever wit.

"Force," Boil said out loud. "It _is_ you."

That time, when Cody tried to get to his feet, Longshot helped him, and they got him settled next to Boil just in time for Waxer and Wooley to rejoin them and take in the scene with wide eyes.

"Kark," Wooley muttered, "I just knew something big went down."

Kenobi shrugged. "Sorry about that. I upset him rather more than I thought I would, even knowing I was asking a sensitive question."

Wooley snorted. "Well, at least some good came of it," he replied. "Any word on when we can get out of here?"

"Someone will be by in about an hour, I'd imagine," Kenobi said. "Are Master Plo and Master Dooku still on site?"

Waxer shook his head. "No, Master Dooku asked Jango to take him back to the Palace once Boil got back out of surgery. Apparently Jinn had some kind of mystery to do with the Force that he absolutely had to discuss with his old master."

Cody scoffed. "Be a relief to have him back off-planet," he muttered, glad of the change of topic.

"Master Plo wanted to take a moment to meditate, he said, and picked out a quiet spot on the roof to do it," Waxer added once he'd waited out Cody's grumbling.

Boil tucked himself in close to Cody in response, and Waxer took the opportunity to sit on the mattress next to his _riduur_ , running a hand through Boil's hair. 

"So we can likely expect to head home once _ori'vod_ is back," Kenobi speculated. "Alright."

"He'll probably bring _buir_ here with him," Crys pointed out. "It's late enough in the rotation that he can probably escape the council or whoever's been demanding his attention."

And, as it turned out, that was exactly how it came to pass, too. Cody simply went along with whatever was happening, too spent to really care that he was letting other people make the decisions for him. He trusted his General to make sure nothing went wrong, and after the day he'd had, he just couldn't find the energy to do it himself.

_He was tired._

\--- POV: Qui-Gon Jinn ---

Qui-Gon paced around the outside perimeter of the palace and let his thoughts flow.

This mission had been very straightforward in some ways and extremely unsettling in others. The assaults on Death Watch strongholds were something relatively run of the mill. Qui-Gon had been on such missions before, although his expertise was more focused on diplomacy. Xanatos was still a bit young to be joining him on missions, but that wasn't so out of the ordinary as to explain his unease. And he'd had a padawan before so the concern he felt over the youngling in his care wasn't truly unusual. Even the Mandalorians' general dislike of the Jedi wasn't terribly surprising. Many people respected and liked the Jedi Order, but just as many didn't and for a wide variety of reasons.

No, what made this mission so bizarre was Ben. 

Even setting aside his brothers' immediate dislike of Qui-Gon and Ben's perfect mask of Jedi serenity, there was something amiss. 

As Qui-Gon walked, he sank into the Living Force. He let himself exist in the _here and now_. Every time his thoughts wandered towards Ben, the Living Force nagged at him.

There was something _missing_.

He felt around the sensation with the edge of his mind. It was like an old wound that he'd never actually had, long healed. Barely even a scar but present nonetheless. 

There was old pain between them fostered in the lost memory of a deep love, both unknown and forgotten. Until now. 

But Qui-Gon was _absolutely certain_ that he had never met Ben Kenobi before. He still didn't really credit the bizarre tale of time travel that Ben had told Master Dooku, and which his master seemed to believe. It was just too crazy. No one in the Order had ever heard of such a thing, and Madame Nu had yet to find any record of such an occurrence in the archives... But he did have to admit, it would neatly explain away a lot of the strange behaviour that Ben and his brothers had been exhibiting.

Throughout Ben's testing and the mission against Death Watch that had followed, Ben had been perfectly serene and utterly unreadable on the subject of Qui-Gon, so he was fairly certain he hadn't done anything to upset the initiate who had the skills and presence of a master. He felt he and Ben were on, if not good terms, then _good enough_ terms. Those brothers of his, however. They were another story entirely. Their instant dislike needed to be taken into account. It was said that Mandalorians never forgot a slight. 

It was vaguely possible that Qui-Gon had done something unintentional. He'd brokered many treaties on many worlds. There were bound to be parties somewhere that were unhappy with his efforts. 

The Living Force didn't agree with that conclusion.

Nor did it point to any other explanation that made sense.

Qui-Gon was not always perfect. No being was. As a Jedi Master, he strove to acknowledge his mistakes and correct them. 

Which was why he was out wandering a circuit around the palace. Through Master Dooku and Master Plo, Qui-Gon was aware that Ben, his brothers, and the _Mand'alor_ had all been at the clinic earlier today and would be there again tomorrow. Jaster Mereel's worry and Jango's were palpable in the Force. Something was happening with the younglings. If the Masters knew what it was about, though, they did not share. Nor did Qui-Gon intend to pry. 

Whatever misunderstanding had happened between him and the younglings, Qui-Gon wanted to make amends. Something niggled at him to _make this right_ , but he didn't know how or even why. 

Jedi had no possessions. It was his skills that he could offer. Anyone could see how over-anxious the children were -- always on the lookout for an attack -- and it was likely for good reason. No doubt that was why Master Dooku and Master Plo had joined them at the clinic; to offer extra protection during whatever event the children were going through. 

Qui-Gon knew that his presence would not be welcome. Even if they allowed him to stay, which was unlikely given that he was uninvited, he would only increase their anxieties. 

But he could stand guard along the perimeter, watching for attack. It was little enough to offer. He planned to do the same the next night as well. Just to be sure that they recovered peacefully.

A couple hours into his slow patrol, he caught sight of Jaster Mereel and two of his personal guards watching him. He merely nodded to them as he moved. The _Mand'alor_ had waited a moment and then nodded back. Perhaps he understood what was going on better than Qui-Gon did. 

It seemed everyone understood what was going on better than Qui-Gon. It was not a feeling he relished. 

As he watched through the night, Qui-Gon felt around that _absence_ in his mind, and considered his options. 

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

It was, Ben reflected as he stared up at the ceiling of their sleeping quarters, a karking relief to know that both of the day's surgeries had gone off well. Even if -- Ben winced -- he had picked entirely the wrong moment to ask Cody about what were clearly very unpleasant memories.

He'd had to hastily slam down some shields around Cody, to keep him from distracting his _Vod'e_ entirely from their patrols and checks. Even so, it hadn't been enough; Waxer and Crys and Longshot had hurried back to the private room he and Cody were in, and all but flung themselves at their Commander.

He'd had no real idea what the troopers were planning, at the time, but the physical sensation of Cody snapping into place in their network like an integral piece of their puzzle that had been out of joint had been pretty telling.

Ben had wanted to kick himself.

It had taken much of his self-control not to open his mouth again and make things worse.

The three _Vod'e_ who'd glued themselves to their Commander had handily gotten Cody back into some semblance of calm, though he'd had to lend them his assistance, but it had taken longer than Ben had expected, and that calm had felt like a very tentative sort of thing. Like the emotional storm was set to rage again the next time anything reminded Cody too strongly of whatever trauma he'd clearly been through.

It was probably something that had happened on Kamino, Ben knew, but he felt vaguely responsible anyway.

After all, his Commander, his Cody, had been suffering, and he _hadn't noticed_.

Granted, before they'd been flung headlong into the past he'd had no reason to assume that Cody wasn't part of the network the other six _Vod'e_ shared. Hells, at the time he'd been so busy not noticing what was going on under his nose, he hadn't even known there _was_ a network. But he'd attributed Cody's relative lack of close _Vod'e_ \-- he'd only ever seen Cody spend and substantial amount of time with Captain Rex, and with Commander Wolffe on the few occasions that they'd worked with the 104th -- to the problem of being in command and needing to maintain some distance between himself and his men. Which was a problem every commanding officer had, really.

But the way Cody had just simply... stopped doing anything about his own situation or the troopers', in the aftermath...

His tireless, fearless, steadfast Commander had _given up_.

No matter how temporary the lapse, that had been worrying.

That, more than anything, had convinced Ben that something was badly amiss, and he needed to get Cody some kind of support. What his karking stubborn Commander would admit to needing and accept, however, was an open question.

Ben found himself wishing Captain Rex had somehow ended up in the past with them, for his Commander's sake. The Captain of the 501st was a very competent and clever _Vod_ , and he'd have known what to do for Cody.

Or been far better at it than Ben, at any rate.

The issue of Cody's stability, or lack thereof, could -- and would have to -- wait another rotation before it became his focus, though. There were still more chips that needed to come out, and he'd have to remember to let the medics know to hand the removed chips over to him.

Only two surgeries still left to go, but they would have the _Vod'e_ just as edgy as the two that had just been completed. Wooley's wouldn't cause too much trouble, on the whole, Ben was fairly sure, but Helix's...

Cody wasn't likely to handle it too well.

Ben would have to keep a close eye on his Commander until the end of the day. It wasn't likely that Cody would let much show through his impenetrable shell of calm, if he managed to get it back in place in time. But knowing just how much depth of feeling lurked beneath that deceptively calm surface...

Biting back a wince, Ben reminded himself that it was not his place to pry and ask questions. He'd have to let Cody come to him. How to encourage that, exactly, was something he'd have to consider.

Waxer stirred, not coming fully awake, but exerting himself enough to mutter, "Go th' kriff to _sleep_ , Gen'ral."

Right. His bonded _Vod'e_ could feel it when he worried over them. With a nod, Ben ran a hand over Waxer's scalp, half reassurance and half apology.

"Sorry, lots to think about," he said quietly, then actively tried to clear his mind, letting himself focus on the physical sensations of the here-and-now. His Commander, tucked in close to his back as usual, protective even in his sleep. Helix bracketing Cody, and Wooley sprawled out beyond the medic. Waxer and Boil tangled tightly together at his front, and Crys and Longshot hugging his legs like they were the best kind of plush toy.

He was warm, comfortable, and protected. His seven remaining _Vod'e_ were all present, alive, and either uninjured or recovering well from having their chips removed. Boil and Cody would be back to normal by daybreak.

Closing his eyes and breathing slowly, he let tension that he'd barely noticed as it built drain back out of his muscles, and when he reopened them what felt like a blink later, the room was bright with the hints of dawn sunshine.

His _Vod'e_ were stretching and yawning and sleepily pulling their armour back on.

In what had come to feel oddly like routine, the eight of them joined Jango and their _buir_ for a very brief meal, grabbed for the food that had been prepared and packed for them, and then they were underway to the clinic.

_Force, let there be no big hurdles today._

Ben knew better than to voice a thought like that, though, lest the galaxy hear him and decide there needed to be a disaster in his path to deal with.

The hours had passed quietly as they waited for Wooley to come through and regain consciousness, though the tension in the air and in his _Vod'e_ might as well have been tangible. Helix, in particular, had done his level best to wear a hole in the floor. Ben had been under no illusions on that score: Helix had no doubt been intensely frustrated at not being able to be in the room while the clinic's medics worked, despite his relative confidence in their skills.

The rest of his _Vod'e_ spent their time keeping watch and making the occasional patrol of the corridors, while their _buir_ and Jango watched in mixed exasperation and understanding.

For his part, Ben had found himself relying on Master Plo and Master Dooku to keep tabs on the clinic itself, while he'd worked to keep his _vod'e_ as calm as possible.

And then, finally, Wooley had come back out of surgery and the _Vod'e_ had hurried to his side. He was recovering well, but now Ben had a new problem to deal with.

As his troopers clustered close around Wooley, making sure they had physical contact with each other and with him, Ben hung back just slightly, surprised by what he felt.

All of his men shone in the Force, their single-mindedness and devotion making them like beacons to anyone who could read those currents. Now that they were under his shields, their shine was visible only to him.

And, kriff, did Wooley shine. A lit arc torch that far outshone the glimmers coming from the other _Vod'e_ , Wooley had much more than just a hint of Force sensitivity, and now that the chip was out of his trooper's head Ben could actually feel it.

The _Vod_ would have been snapped up by the Order in a heartbeat, had they had a chance, but now... well. Now, it seemed Ben would have to take on a new padawan.

"General?" Waxer asked him, "What're you thinking about so hard?"

Shaking his head, Ben smiled at him, knowing it had to be a trifle wan and faint. "Issues I will have to deal with, the moment we have a bit of time for such," he answered evasively.

"What does that mean, sir?" Cody demanded, and looked up at him from his position, perched on the edge of Wooley's mattress. His Commander shone a little brighter than the other _Vod'e_ as well, but it was still nothing compared to the _Vod_ lying on the bed.

"That is a discussion for later," Ben told him, letting the Commander and his men draw their own conclusions. "For now, I shall keep my own counsel, and we can talk it through once we're back at the palace."

Wooley's eyes fluttered open and he made a pained sound then immediately shut them again, a move that instantly got him the attention of every _Vod_ in the room. Ben could feel the way the network shivered when Wooley's presence all but slammed back into it.

He also saw the way that all of the _Vod'e_ jerked to attention at the sudden feeling of a strong Force sensitive in their network, almost instinctively, then startled again when they realised it wasn't their General they felt.

Cody stared up at Ben, wide-eyed. "Okay, we'll talk about it later, then, sir," was all he said, his voice a bit faint.

Recovering admirably quickly, Boil grabbed for the cup of ice chips set on the small table beside the bed and offered them to Wooley. "Here, _Vod_ ," he said quietly. "Drink. Slowly."

The room was silent for a few seconds, while Wooley drank obediently and Ben debated whether to shield Wooley as he had Cody the previous rotation, putting a buffer between the _Vod_ and his network.

In the end, he decided not to. He could do that later, if it became an issue, and now was not the time to inflict the additional distress that would cause on any of his men. They would all be incredibly tense now that it was Helix's turn to be knocked out.

And speaking of which.

Ben closed his eyes and reached out with his Force senses, reassuring himself that everything was still as it should be and carefully avoiding touching Wooley with them, for the moment, so as not to startle him.

He found nothing obviously out of the ordinary; there were no emotional signatures nearby that would have so much as hinted at an attack, and while he couldn't discount the possibility that there had been explosives previously planted somewhere, his _Vod'e_ had scoured he building twice last rotation and then again while Wooley was in the operating theatre.

When he reopened his eyes and looked around the room, his men were readying themselves for another few hours on guard. Waxer and Boil were cramming snacks into their belt pouches to replace the ones they'd eaten during Wooley's procedure. Crys and Longshot were laughing quietly at the pair of _riduur'e_ even as they did the same.

"Same positions as last time? Or do we want to switch it up?" Longshot asked.

"Might as well switch it up. Less chance of getting bored and sloppy or restless," Boil said pragmatically.

"Right," the other four agreed, and that was that. They marched purposefully out of the room with Cody in the lead as usual, and scattered to take up their new positions. It was always reassuring to Ben to see how they all moved and thought in harmony, without needing to say a word to reach an agreement on who would be where.

Before he'd Force bonded Waxer, Crys, and Longshot on impulse that one night that seemed so long ago, Ben wouldn't have thought twice about that. He'd always assumed that his _Vod'e_ had simply trained together often enough to have developed a rotation that they didn't need to speak aloud any longer. But now, well. Now he was questioning that assumption. What if it wasn't simply their training? Could it be the network they were all tied into? Some kind of unconscious use of their bonds? Was it something else entirely? His _vod'e_ had always done things like this, but he'd written it off. He'd never stopped to think about it. After all, he'd known, down to his bones, right from the first moment he'd met them, that the troopers were special. Every last one.

This new revelation -- that, once those karking inhumane chips had been removed, all of them showed a Force sensitivity of one degree or another -- was just one more indication of how right he'd been, without realising it.

Kark. He had so many questions and so few answers.

Ben paused before he followed his men, and told Wooley, "The two of us will have much to talk about once we get back to the palace, _Vod_."

Wooley gave him a puzzled look, but nodded. "Sure, General."

"Will you be alright here? Or would you prefer to have some company?" Ben asked him before he turned toward the door.

"If it's all the same, I'd rather the company, General," Wooley said quietly. "I... it's strange, but it feels like the world got... bigger?"

Ben chuckled at him and seated himself on the edge of the mattress where Cody had been. "It did. And that's part of what I need to discuss with you later."

That time, when he settled in to keep watch over the building, Ben used one of the exercises he'd been drilling his _Vod'e_ in, wanting to see what would happen, now that Wooley was free of the chip.

He got curious touches and the feel of a wordless question asked -- a mental head tilt -- from the trio he was Force bonded to, but they were calm. All three were in that focused state of mind they tended to resort to, to stay alert on guard duty.

Wooley, though, free to do as he pleased while he recovered, automatically followed Ben's lead, falling into the meditation as easy as breathing.

Pleasantly surprised, Ben briefly considered his options, then decided to just go for it. Master Plo and Master Dooku surely had things well in hand, and it truly _was_ a priority to get Wooley shielded.

He reached out with the Force, gently brushing against the warm presence beside him and feeling it twitch, drawing inward as though tickled, before a wordless sense of welcome flooded over him. 

Smiling, Ben ran a mental hand over his _Vod_ , smoothing the slightly ragged and stressed edges he found, and then started gently prodding at him. Over and over. The mental equivalent of poking him in the ribs.

After the second prod, he got an irritated vocal grumble. "What are you _doing_ , General?" Wooley asked him.

"Reminding you that you need to keep up your defenses," Ben retorted, keeping his voice down so that the words wouldn't carry, and poked him again.

He felt Wooley slightly clumsily try to poke him back in retaliation and slide harmlessly off his own outer shields, then smirked at him.

"You can be very annoying when you want to, General," Wooley muttered at him, then added a few curses under his breath, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. 

The shielding Ben had been teaching them so far was the light, almost porous kind, in deference to their assertion that feeling their squadmates 'die' every time they shielded themselves really was not their idea of a fun time. Until now, Wooley had struggled to come to grips with the technique, though he'd been doing somewhat better at the meditation drills.

Today, though... today, something seemed to click into place, and then Ben felt his _Vod_ 's signature dim a little, no longer quite so bright in the Force.

Ben poked him again, and this time, he hit the light flexible shields he'd expected to. They were more like armourweave than the heavy plasteel ones he used, but perfectly serviceable.

Wooley gave him a small, pleased smile. "It worked," he breathed. "It actually worked."

"It did. Well done, _Vod_ ," Ben grinned back, just as pleased. "Now comes the harder part: practicing holding them for long periods of time. Including in your sleep."

Wooley groaned, dismayed, and let himself fall back against his pillows. "You're going to poke at me all the time, aren't you, General," he said, tone resigned.

Ben snickered at him. "Probably. Now, rest. We've got another couple of hours to go before we get Helix back, and starting next rotation we'll have to sort out what to do about your training."

Wooley sighed. "I can't wait," he said dryly, then closed his eyes. "I'd better sleep while I can, then."

Deciding to be merciful, seeing as Wooley was recovering from a surgery, Ben let him rest, even when the light shields Wooley had managed to put up gradually thinned and then vanished again.

When Helix was brought into the room, and the head surgeon handed Ben the requested chips (freshly removed from Wooley and Helix and mercifully already cleaned and in a small shielded container), the relief in the air was like water on parched earth. All seven of his _Vod'e_ were finally free of those chips, and they could begin trying to unravel the mystery of what the kriff those things were, what they did -- or were meant to do -- and how they had gotten into his _Vod'e_ in the first place.

Ben waited out the shudder in the network as Helix roused, and was enthusiastically welcomed back in, then the trip back to the palace with their _buir_ and Jango.

All eight of them felt like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders, just knowing that there had been none of those serious complications that Helix had warned them about so long ago when he'd told them about the risks of these surgeries, and it left them all wanting to be close.

It had been another long, long day, but they were all alive and home and together. That was worth a lot.

Ben watched fondly as his men stripped promptly down to their shorts the moment they were back in their sleeping quarters, then chuckled when they turned to him with expectant looks on their faces.

The _Vod'e_ wanted him to bed down with them, clearly, and Ben found he wanted that too, somewhat to his own surprise. 

In the morning, their routine would have to change. The eight of them stood on the cusp of true change. Ben could feel it, like a building electric charge in the air. What changes those would be, what effects they might have... he had no idea.

What he did know was that the first thing he would need to do would be to forge the rest of those one-sided Force bonds into something more solid, and then he absolutely had to start making his men shield themselves far more heavily. It wouldn't be a huge issue for most of his _vod'e_ , but it would be an absolutely essential skill for Wooley to have, and if he was going to teach one of them, he might as well teach the lot of them.

But until then, they would get to enjoy their first truly restful night's sleep in weeks.


	26. Chapter 26

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Cody felt a bit like he was staring down the muzzle of a charged blaster.

He'd known this was coming for weeks, now, and yet it hadn't really gotten any less intimidating.

Now that he was connected to the rest of his _Vod'e_ , though... now that he was in the network, he was starting to slip up more and more. It hadn't taken him long to fall back into his bad old habits. Less than a rotation and a half had gone by since his chip had come out, and in that time he'd found himself starting to let them in close without really thinking about it, in that way he'd gotten used to only letting Rex and Wolffe anywhere near him.

Worse, it had made him feel just how painful his self-imposed isolation really was. Having a network again was... it was warm. The way sleeping piled together as cadets had always been. It was a sense of never-alone-friend-at-your-back that let you _relax_ once in a while. It was the worst kind of temptation.

And resisting it was about to get even harder.

He bit down on his lower lip briefly as he pulled his armour back on, in preparation for their first meal of the rotation.

The General had yet to broach the topic, but Cody knew that Kenobi wouldn't want to delay forming his Force bonds with the rest of them. After the experiences the General'd had with the first three, Cody couldn't even deny that that was a sound plan. It would take time for the seven of them to really get used to the situation and learn how to deal with it, and the sooner they got started, the better. 

On a tactical level, it made perfect sense.

On a personal level... he didn't want to, but he also did. He wanted the bond with the General on a level he'd never have thought he could, before they'd been flung three decades back in time. But he didn't want to let the General -- or his _Vod'e_ \-- see just how broken he was.

If they knew how broken Kamino had left him, how he'd never managed to piece himself back together, even with Rex's help and Helix's and Wolffe's, they might-- 

He didn't let the rest of the thought form.

Swallowing back his apprehension as best he could, and ignoring the hints of concern and fond exasperation he felt coming back at him over the network in response, Cody tucked his bucket under his arm and kicked himself into motion.

Shoving those worries aside was a temporary solution at best, and he knew it, but it would do for now. He surveyed his men, all watching him with varying expressions of expectation and sympathy, then led the way out of their sleeping quarters rather than sacrifice any more of his dignity on that particular altar.

Kenobi appeared at his usual position a half-step in front of him, a vaguely protective set to his shoulders for all that their quarters were perhaps the one place on Mandalore where they were truly secure.

Cody, finally succeeding at getting his worries back in their box, felt like he settled into his usual place at the General's back with a click. That was more like it.

They were ready before Jango and _buir_ this time.

" _Caf_ ," Boil breathed reverently, as though he'd forgotten he could have it again until that moment.

Helix rolled his eyes at their _Vod_. "You know the rules," he said firmly. "One mug. Then no more."

Boil waved a dismissive hand in Helix's direction, but Cody knew as well as Helix did that Boil didn't actually intend to break that rule and risk getting cut off entirely. That was something Helix would have no compunctions about enforcing.

While the caf brewed, Cody watched his _Vod'e_ gradually work their way to full awareness, assembling some snacks to eat while they waited for their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ to show up with something a little more filling.

The General picked his moment well.

He waited for a lull in the quiet murmured conversations, then said, "After we've eaten our fill, I'd like to get us started on what we need to get accomplished today."

"What's that, General?" Longshot asked him gamely.

Kenobi gave him a measuring look. "First, another attempt at group meditation. I'll be guiding it, so all of you can just follow along. Then, once everyone is comfortable with that -- which might not be easy, as it can be a little bit overwhelming the first time you truly feel the Light Side of the Force -- then we can consider forging the remaining four Force bonds."

Cody wanted to wince at the way his worries did their best to leap right back out of their box. He stomped down on the lid harshly. _No. Not now._

If he'd had his way, that would have been 'not ever', but he knew better than to hope for that. If the General didn't pry the story out of him eventually, his _Vod'e_ would. Taking a steadying breath, he asked, "Will you be doing all four together, General?"

Kenobi turned to him and tilted his head at him. "I could. But after what happened when I did that with Crys, Longshot, and Waxer, I think one at a time might be wiser. It will be less overwhelming for all of us. It will feel strange to all of you to feel Wooley, at first."

Wooley looked a bit apprehensive at that. "How do you mean, sir?"

The General drew breath to reply and Cody felt the way all attention focused on Kenobi at that. "Well," he said drolly, "you may have noticed that you're quite a lot stronger in the Force than any of your _Vod'e_."

"Oh kark, is that why it suddenly felt like you were in the network twice last rotation, sir?" Crys blurted.

The question got a chuckle out of Kenobi. "That seems like the logical conclusion to draw, yes." He turned to Wooley. "If you choose to stick with your decision to learn armour and weaponry from Ardanna, you'll be doing two apprenticeships simultaneously, _Vod_ , and I'm afraid the one under me is non-negotiable, unless you'd prefer to work with Master Dooku. You've got to learn how to deal with the new senses you've suddenly got access to."

That made Wooley sigh. "After you started poking at me like that last rotation, I kind of guessed that might be the case."

Cody felt a strange twitch over the network a moment later, and Wooley glared daggers at Kenobi as his presence seemed to dim a little. "Yes, thanks, just like that."

"The rest of you," the General said, smirking and clearly pleased with himself, "shouldn't have any trouble integrating, I expect, and the guided group meditation should help smooth the way even more." He glanced over toward the door, right before their chime went off, then added, "But first, we should eat."

"Smooth transition, sir," Waxer commented, broadcasting fond amusement.

The General gave him an acknowledging nod as the door opened and their _buir_ came in, with Jango at his heels.

The eight of them didn't get back to that topic of conversation until their _buir_ surveyed the table covered in empty plates and asked them about their plans for the day. "Ben? Cody?" He inquired. "Do you have any plans for this rotation that I should know about?"

Kenobi, kark it all, simply shrugged and Cody just knew whatever came out of Kenobi's mouth would get them additional scrutiny, so he hurriedly jumped in before his General could answer. "We're planning meditations, which means spending time sitting in a circle awkwardly staring at each other," he said dryly, and got snickers out of everyone but Kenobi. The network around him rang gratifyingly strongly with amusement.

"So should I expect explosions?" Their _buir_ deadpanned.

Wooley smirked. "Maybe? We'll let you know."

Force but it was still so strange to feel like they had two Kenobis in the room, Cody thought. It gave the network a feeling of _weight_ that it hadn't had before and was weirdly like double vision.

Or maybe a half-kriffed impersonation. Even without the Force bond to Kenobi, he could tell they were different presences. All his attempts to put words to the feeling failed, though. It wasn't anything his senses could pin down. Not colour, or sound... not taste, or touch, nor even smell. It just... was. In the same kind of way that he could tell all of the _Vod'e_ in his network apart.

Jango huffed at them, drawing Cody's attention back to the discussion. "Maybe I'd better stick around and supervise."

"You'd only be bored," Helix replied, pragmatic as ever. "It's really only worth hanging around if you're in on the act."

"Explosions are never boring," Waxer protested, and more amusement washed over Cody through their still-new connection.

Cody raised an eyebrow at his second-in-command. "There will be no explosions unless something goes _very badly_ wrong."

Their _buir_ gave Waxer an unimpressed look. "We only just got the damage inflicted by the Death Watch repaired. I'd appreciate it if Sundari could stay intact a while longer before I'm asked to sign off on the next bout of expensive public works."

General Kenobi nodded, a trifle sheepishly. "That wasn't our fault, but we'll certainly do what we can," he said. "And if you want to, you can stay, Jango, but it really isn't all that exciting to watch, from the outside. And you're not Force sensitive, so inviting you to join in wouldn't give you any benefit."

Huh. Briefly diverted, Cody turned that thought over a few times, looking at it from different angles. How _was_ it that their template showed no Force sensitivity, but the seven of them all did to one degree or another? He might have to ask the General about that later.

"Then I think I'll leave you to it after all," Jango decided, "and check in on you later. No point in sitting around doing nothing all morning."

"Meditating isn't the same as _doing nothing_ ," Kenobi responded, drawing himself up.

Everyone could tell he wasn't actually offended. There was a laugh lurking under his words as well as in the corners of his mouth and eyes.

"Sure looks like it, though," Jango shot back, "and that's all I'd be doing."

Kenobi conceded that with a nod.

Before he could continue the banter, though, the _Mand'alor_ stifled his own amusement at their words and got to his feet. "We ought to get going, then, _ad_. While your _vod'ike_ amuse themselves with their meditation, we've got a marginally less boring deal to negotiate with the local trade unions, today."

"Ugh. More legalese?" Making a disgusted face, Jango stood, too. "I know, _buir_ , I know. Important and useful. But _ugh_. I'd rather be out on a contract."

"That makes two of us," their _buir_ agreed. "Almost enough to make you reconsider staying, isn't it."

And with that, they took their leave.

Their dining area suddenly felt a lot emptier, the moment the door had shut behind them.

Cody glanced around at his _Vod'e_ , then at the General, and realised all of his _Vod'e_ except Waxer were doing the same.

"Shields back up, General?" Waxer asked him, looking a bit disappointed, and it sank in that one of the two strong presences in the room had all but vanished.

"Partial ones," Kenobi answered. "And--"

Wooley made a quiet sound of outrage, and then the room felt emptier still as Wooley did his best to put up the shields Kenobi had been teaching them.

"Better," Kenobi smirked at their _Vod_. "Now, come. Let's get comfortable."

That got the General a round of nods. Cody, for his part, was still somewhat apprehensive about this whole thing. He knew his _Vod'e_ wouldn't allow him _not_ to join in. Helix in particular would be adamant about it. And, he didn't truly want to hold back. No. It was more the _consequences_ he was worrying about.

Previous experience said that letting his _Vod'e_ in close to him was practically a death sentence for them. His batch- and squadmates on Kamino. His _cyare_. Rex.

Even as frighteningly competent as that _Vod_ was, Rex had very nearly been killed, just for going on a ground campaign with him and the 212th on Saleucami.

Those less close to him weren't all that safe either. They tended to take bad hits or get killed, too. Anyone under his command was at risk, simply because of _him_.

Longshot cleared his throat. "Commander?"

Hiding a wince, Cody shook his head to clear it and to dismiss the concern. "Nothing important enough that it needs to be discussed right now," he answered.

Crys gave him a skeptical look. Boil and Waxer did that thing where they had an entire conversation with their eyebrows.

Helix scoffed. "Well, come on, then, Commander," he demanded. "Before we lose the daylight."

Tempted to give their medic a piece of his mind, Cody growled a few annoyed curses under his breath. "Sometimes, Helix, you really do flirt with true insubordination."

"I outrank you when it comes to matters under my purview," the cheeky kriffing _Vod_ replied airily, "and considering what happened the last time the General did anything to do with Force bonds, this definitely counts."

That got Kenobi to flinch. "Right. That was definitely not my best moment, but in my defense, you all caught me off guard."

Leading them into their sitting room and settling himself on a small pillow scavenged from the sofa, Kenobi waited for them to follow suit. This had gradually become their standard procedure for their attempts at meditation. Kenobi and Cody would use the two throw pillows, and the other _Vod'e_ the cushions off the sofa, shared in pairs. As per usual, that meant Waxer and Boil snagged one for themselves, and Crys and Longshot a second, leaving Helix and Wooley the third.

Once they were ready, the General gave them a nod. "Good. You know how this is going to go, but I'll walk you through it anyway," he opened.

They were all well used to this, meantime, Cody had to admit. He let himself reflect on that briefly as he closed his eyes and tried to relax the tension in his shoulders. It never took them long to pick up new skills -- that was something all _Vod'e_ were conditioned to do as promptly as possible -- but getting used to using them and being good at them was something else. This meditation thing, even if they'd collectively proven to be surprisingly bad at it thus far, was nice. Relaxing, even when they didn't quite pull it off. It was strange -- in a good way -- to have a training module that carried no consequences for kark ups.

He could feel his men in their network, all of them following his example automatically. They were falling into their sentry-duty half-trance, breathing slow and their focus on their senses.

"Good," Kenobi praised them, "just like that. Hold onto that calm and keep your eyes closed."

It felt a little bit ridiculous to be praised for something that felt so simple and easy, right then, but Cody knew just how difficult it could be to reach the mental space they were in now, easy and almost floating.

He felt a hint of amusement come back at him over the network. Probably Helix, though he couldn't quite pin it down who it had been.

"Now," the General went on, his voice quiet and calm, his words rhythmic and measured, "you're going to build a mental image with me. Before, when we did these meditations, I let you all choose your own image to focus on, but this time you're all going to use the same one. It's a very simple one, but powerful nonetheless." 

Quiet, almost sleepy, curiosity built in the network, and Cody felt it echoed in him.

When Kenobi spoke again, Cody could hear the smile in his voice. "You'll see, _Vod'e_. It's quite effective. Here we go. Just like before, make the image as real as you can," he said. "Start with a dense fog around you. The room we're in doesn't exist, just the grey water droplets swirling in the air."

An odd choice, Cody thought, and felt the slight confusion echoed back at him, but he let himself build the image. Fog, ugh. _Damp and cold, wet and swirling. Obscuring his vision and clinging to his skin. Leaving him uneasily looking over his shoulder, his near-instinctive need to keep tabs on his environment coming to the fore..._

"Remember to build the image in all of your physical senses. Feel your clothing against your skin. Hear the quiet hush of your own breathing."

Suddenly Cody could. He felt the way his blacks clung to his skin, leeching the warmth of his skin away, and shivered. He heard the deafening quiet, so loud the only sounds came from _him_. It was eerie, how _alone_ he suddenly was, in a room full of _Vod'e_ and with his General at his side.

He automatically tried to reach out for the network, and found his _Vod'e_ doing the same, trying to cling to one another to combat the strange feeling.

"No," Kenobi reminded him/them, his voice soothing and reassuring. "You're not alone, _Vod'e_ , merely working your way back towards each other. No need to grab for each other. Just _be_. I'll guide you back to each other."

Swallowing hard against the reflexive fear that the idea of being alone sent shuddering through him, now that he had a network at his back again -- Force, but it hadn't taken him long to get back in the habit of relying on that warmth that seemed to live at the back of his skull, low down, by the nape of his neck -- Cody drew a hitching breath, and carefully forced himself calm again. It felt far too much like giving them up, like letting them march far away, but he trusted his General.

Possibly more than he should, at times, he thought wryly and tried to make his breath come easily again. It took him several long seconds that seemed to stretch out into eternity to manage it.

"There, yes, well done, Cody."

The rest of his _Vod'e_ hesitantly followed suit. Cody could tell they'd felt the stab of fear and anxiety that had gone through him, and several of them had echoed it -- Boil in particular had been rather upset by the feeling -- but none of them commented. He could tell they didn't like it one bit, but all of them also knew this wasn't the moment to try to pursue the point and ask him about it. Even Helix.

Thank kriff. He really didn't need that right now.

"I suppose I should've anticipated something like this happening and warned you," Kenobi said wryly. "Okay, let's try that one more time. Build the image back up in your minds, in as much detail as you can. The dense grey fog, the quiet. The calm. And then hold it for a few seconds. Let your breathing steady. There's no need to fear. _Morut'yc, Vod'e_. I've got the watch." 

This time, Cody kept his thoughts as far from the quiet and the isolation as he could, focusing instead on what the General had promised: that he'd lead them back to one another. With that in mind, it was far easier to bear the bizarre swirling grey nothingness the General had chosen. He could bear damp blacks and wet cold to find his _Vod'e_ again. They'd all fought through far worse conditions with precisely this same goal in mind.

"That's good, yes. Now, imagine yourselves standing up."

Cody mentally shrugged and followed orders. He'd heard weirder. The fog seemed to swirl around him, an impenetrable soup of moisture and misery.

The network sent him back a muffled echo of agreement/sympathy and he realised he'd sent that impression to them all, unintentionally. The response had primarily been Crys, that time. That _Vod_ had always hated cold, wet climates, for reasons Cody couldn't quite fathom.

Kenobi made an amused sound. "Alright, _Vod'e_ ," he said, "Orient yourselves on me. Feel out where I am in the fog and walk towards me. It's possible -- even likely -- that you'll find one another first, but I want you to try to home in on my presence."

How the kriff was he supposed to do _that_?

Cody floundered mentally for a moment, then decided to trust his instincts. Something -- he couldn't pin down what -- was telling him to turn to his 11 o'clock and then start moving. He couldn't see a thing through the thick fog, but he just _knew_ that was where Kenobi was.

That was where he could feel his General.

Weirdly, it wasn't anywhere near where he should've been, given their respective positions in the physical room. For that matter, he thought he could feel Wooley somewhere off to his right and above him in the fog, but that made no sense at all. Not even the General could walk on fog like that. At least, not that Cody knew of. Though that trick in the council chamber that had let them see the table had been quite a good one.

"Cody," Kenobi chided him gently, "you're letting yourself get distracted. Don't worry about the physical world. It won't intrude. I won't allow it to."

Whether that was just a phenomenally good guess or he'd given himself away somehow, Cody didn't know, but he made himself let go of the odd contradiction and keep walking.

An indeterminate distance later -- he could've counted his steps but he'd instinctively known that wouldn't help -- he felt someone seem to click into place at his shoulder, and, for all that he couldn't see them properly, he knew _exactly_ whom it was. _Helix._

The knowledge, bone deep, that he _wasn't alone_ out here, the sensation of having that particular _Vod_ back at his side, almost made him want to drop all his dignity and grab onto Helix. Oh, _thank the Force_. It was working.

Helix reached out, a sensation like a phantom hand on his shoulder, reassuring, and then prodded at him. _Keep moving._

It took them a little while longer, but eventually they got to where they needed to be.

There was a sizable circular area where the fog thinned, though it didn't clear entirely. Inside it, his General and half of his _Vod'e_ waited. The three of them -- predictably it was Waxer, Crys and Longshot who'd gotten there first -- were grinning at each other and trading notes on their experience so far.

When he and Helix joined them, the medic seeming to just materialise at his side, Cody startled at the way he could suddenly feel the General in the network, a bright but hazy presence. He hadn't been able to, before. The General just smiled brightly at him and let Cody take his usual place a half step behind Kenobi and to his right. The move was so practiced it was automatic. Neither of them thought about it anymore. Neither questioned it. It was simply the way things were meant to be.

One by one, the remaining two _Vod'e_ joined them. Wooley, whose presence seemed to push the fog back a bit further, though Cody wasn't sure he hadn't imagined that. Then Boil, who grabbed onto his _riduur_ and clung, with waves of relief sloughing off him.

Helix took that opportunity to look everyone over before he relaxed, satisfied that they were all in one piece. 

"Good, everyone's here." Kenobi said with a pleased nod.

The sound of the words was oddly doubled, as though there was an echo, or two people speaking in perfect synch, almost overlaid. The General's physical voice younger and higher pitched but somehow also carrying the deeper more resonant tones they'd gotten used to during their many ground campaigns with the more adult Kenobi. It was a distinctly weird aspect to this meditation that hadn't come up before, and sent a shiver down Cody's spine for all that it _fit_ in a way he hadn't considered before.

"Before we continue, I want you to check your posture. In here, I know you're fine, but I don't want you to come back out of the meditation to find yourselves hurting," Kenobi reminded them.

Oh, right.

Despite Kenobi's suggestion they'd collectively made that mistake the first time they'd tried this group meditation thing. It wasn't an experience they particularly wanted to repeat. Moving slowly, Cody incrementally resettled himself on his cushion, feeling the tension that had built unnoticed in his shoulders and upper back ease.

Boil and Wooley made quiet, relieved sounds, and Kenobi nodded at them. "Better," he said, voice still strangely doubled. "And well done. You've made it far enough that we can get to the interesting part. Now that you're all settled into the meditation, we have two objectives to fulfil. The first is to complete the remaining Force bonds I can sense just waiting for me. Second is to take advantage of those Force bonds to show you all just what meditation is about, now that I've shown you that you can do it."

That sent a shiver of reluctance through Cody, and got him everyone's attention.

Helix's hand went back to his shoulder. "Commander?"

"I'll be fine, Helix," he said, voice low, but well aware everyone would hear him. There was no hiding in a place like this and he knew it.

Rather than draw things out any further, the General let Helix handle him and turned to face Boil.

The _Vod_ didn't hesitate. When Kenobi reached out to him, Boil reached back -- and it was karking bizarre to feel them both do that without actually moving their hands, but Cody knew they were -- and then there was a small flash of light that made Cody think _flash-bang!_ He jerked, his training screaming at him, and Boil lost all the tension in his muscles, forcing his _riduur_ to catch him.

It took him a moment to calm himself back down, Helix's hands at his shoulders and Longshot covering his back, but he managed it before Boil recovered from the shock of making that connection. The pair of them were glowing faintly, looking like they'd decided to pose inside life-sized holo images of themselves, and Crys was watching them, his expression saying that he wished he could have brought his holocam into the meditation with him.

"Wow," Boil said simply after a moment, and Cody could feel the reverberations of the newly sealed bond going through the network, radiating out from his _vod_. Then, too, like an image gradually coming into focus on his range finder, it was like he could also feel the General more clearly.

The General smiled. "It's really something, isn't it. It can be just as difficult to endure as it is peaceful right now, though."

Wooley stepped up, curious to feel it for himself rather than secondhand, and Kenobi offered him a hand without a word. That time, when it happened, the flash was blindingly bright and legitimately left Cody's physical eyes watering in a weird reflexive reaction to something he hadn't even really experienced in the real world.

 _Kriffing sith-hells._ Cody swore silently, and got a mix of agreement-irritation-laughter back from the network.

As he let himself react to the shockwave that had hit him -- alongside all the rest of his men -- he couldn't deny that it felt like something had physically snapped back into place. Wooley made an almost pained sound and wrapped himself around Kenobi in the same motion that brought him to his knees, throwing his arms around Kenobi's legs and clinging to their General, tears streaming down his face that Cody was sure were echoed in the physical world. " _General,_ " he said hoarsely, his own voice doubled the same way the General's had been, overwhelmed by what he was feeling, " _Vod._ "

The way the whole network was shuddering with the force of it, the way their bond rang true, like a bell, was amazing, and Cody knew somehow that a large part of that was the fact that Wooley's chip was gone. That this had existed before, but that it had been warped and twisted by the horrible thing in Wooley's head.

Now that Wooley was free of it...

The relief was a torrent, rushing through all of them with a strength that wouldn't be denied. Waxer grabbed onto Boil and the pair of them clung to one another like drowning men. Crys and Longshot shored them up, the four of them weathering the shock together. Helix grabbed onto him, making Cody turn and return the favour, even as the secondhand emotion made him tear up a second time and want to sob, himself.

Kenobi didn't deny it, running his hand -- the one they could see in their meditation, and not the physical one or the weird non-corporeal feeling -- through Wooley's hair. "Shhh, I know," he said, deftly gentling Wooley and soothing the rest of them by extension, "come on now, deep breath. And hold it... now out again."

The sheer wonder and amazement rolling off his _Vod'e_ in the aftermath of that experience was making him karking curious, himself, but the worry that never quite left him kept pricking at him, like a burr at the edge of his armour would have irritated his skin and worn holes in his blacks.

The impression he had of Kenobi got another boost in resolution, and then Helix was letting him go, stepping a short distance away to follow Wooley's example.

Unlike the others, their medic felt like a pillar of solidity and calm. He had been the bedrock on which Cody had stood for years, but now Cody could _feel_ that stability in a way he never had before. It was a bit like staring down an endlessly deep conduit. Reminded him of some of the ridiculously deep spaces he'd seen in the power generation facilities on Kamino. Their medic didn't just put up a calm front, he truly _was_ that level-headed, and, kriff, Cody had been underestimating his _Vod_ all these years.

Before he knew it, without causing so much as a ripple in the network, Helix was settled in with the others, he could sense the General almost as clearly as he could feel his networked _Vod'e_ , and Cody swallowed hard.

The General turned to him, a level of understanding in his eyes that Cody wasn't at all sure whether he was glad of or saddened to see, and waited. He held out his hand -- physical, non-corporeal, visible, Cody wasn't sure, but he recognised the gesture for what it was -- and waited.

Reaching out. Requesting and offering, but not forcing. "In your own time," he said after a slightly awkward moment.

Cody felt his eyes fall shut without his volition, and he drew a hissing breath through his teeth. "I want to," he said, and knew the seven of them would feel the truth of that, "but what if--"

He couldn't finish the sentence.

Waxer's arm was suddenly around his waist, shoring him up. Helix back at his other side.

"We've all thought that, _Vod_ ," Helix said quietly. "We've all wondered. What if. Why couldn't I have been a few seconds faster. Why did I go right, when I should've gone left. Don't deny yourself this. Don't deny _us_ this. You're worrying about things that haven't happened. Things that _won't ever happen_ if any of us gets a say in the matter."

More and more hands, warm, familiar, reassuring touches, landed on his bared forearms -- when had he rolled up the sleeves of his blacks? -- on the nape of his neck, at his shoulders, the small of his back.

And through it all, Kenobi simply waited him out, radiating an emotional warmth that was almost a longing that Cody didn't dare acknowledge fully, lest he make the situation between the two of them even more incredibly awkward.

"Commander," Waxer spoke up that time. "If you think the rest of us haven't thought that about at least one _Vod_ that we left on the other side of that karking Force mishap, you need your head checked. It wasn't just your Remembrances that got longer that day. The first couple of weeks, I kept asking myself, _Kriff, what if it had been General Skywalker and Captain Rex who hit that trap?_ Just imagine the fallout. And it wouldn't have just been political fallout, either. Just imagine what that would've done to the 501st. To the 212th. To our General. Networked or not, we live with that kind of thing. We have to."

Those words sent a wince through Kenobi that Cody was sure had been physical, as well.

"We feel the same way about it, Commander," Wooley put in, solemn. "Now that there are only seven of us left in the galaxy, we'll have to make damned kriffing sure we all make it through whatever engagements we end up in. And we intend to."

"That means you too, Commander," Crys told him. "Look, we all know something horrible happened to your old network. That much is kriffing obvious. We're not going to ask -- that kind of thing is private -- but we have no intention of leaving you alone. Not here, not now. Not ever. Even if you weren't our kriffing Marshall Commander, you're our _Vod_. We take care of our own. Remember?"

" _Nu draar,_ " Helix reminded him, and it sounded like he was swearing an oath.

Feeling a hopelessly tangled ball of emotions try to rise up and choke him, Cody nodded. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Alright, _Vod'e_. It-- it's not going to be easy, but... alright."

Their grip on him tightened briefly in a comforting squeeze, and then they all stepped back in perfect unison, leaving him just enough room to turn to face Kenobi, and reach out for the General's hand.

He still hesitated before he took it, all too many bad memories doing their best to come boiling back out of their box.

 _Keep moving,_ Helix's words echoed through his memory, and for all that his _Vod_ had meant something entirely different, they still applied now. Helix was right. He was. Cody knew it.

_He couldn't allow himself to stand still. Couldn't allow himself to stop. Not even if he was terrified out of his own wits about what might happen._

That was just as much of a death sentence when it came to his own mind as it was on a physical battlefield.

If he had to make a leap of faith, at least it was his General he was putting his belief in.

Cody took a last hitching breath, and kicked himself back into motion, taking the outstretched hand.

Late nights sharing tea and caf over paperwork. Shifts that ran so late into the night it counted as morning and then long past the rising of whatever sun they were currently orbiting. A sense of understanding and sympathy over being forced to wait simply to say his remembrances -- a task so mammoth he and his _Vod'e_ could only afford to spare the time to do it once every month or so, lest they render themselves unfit for battle -- and carefully mutually avoiding the emotional bruising afterwards. Strategy sessions as painstakingly detailed and thought out on as many possible levels as they could manage. Lost cloaks and dropped lightsabres and the kind of attraction and frustration that was uniquely theirs to share. Fondness so intense it might well take on a new name entirely. Emotion neither of them dared to name or acknowledge lest the longing drive them both mad. _General._

_Commander._

He found himself in much the same position Wooley had wound up in, with no idea how he'd gotten there. All of his _Vod'e_ were clustered tightly around them, offering protection and comfort. The General was shielding their men from whatever storm had come rushing through the network when they'd finally completed that connection, even as their _Vod'e_ offered them whatever shelter their bodies could grant in this weird imaginary landscape.

Helix caught his eyes when Cody raised his head. "Check in with me, _Vod_ ," the medic demanded. "That looked and felt rough, even with General Kenobi buffering it as much as we let him."

Cody had to think about that for a moment. "I... I feel weirdly light? Otherwise normal."

Helix gave him a skeptical look, then reached down to haul him back to his feet. "You don't feel too stable right now, _Vod_ ," he disagreed, and several of the others nodded.

"Give it a few minutes," Kenobi put in. "We just made some major changes to your network, and those will take some time to settle into place properly. All of you do better when you're in physical contact, so come here and do that. You all imagined yourselves in your blacks, anyway, so why not take advantage of that."

Crys and Longshot gave Kenobi disbelieving looks -- they both felt it was a bit ironic that Kenobi, out of all of them, was saying that -- but they didn't protest. As one, the six _Vod'e_ guarding them turned and either wrapped one arm around him or the General, then the other around whichever _Vod_ happened to be closest.

In under three seconds, they'd turned what had been a purely defensive formation into one of the most comfortable embraces Cody'd felt in ... kriff. In far too long.

The thought made Kenobi's focus on him spike, narrowing down to a laser-like pinpoint that made him feel like a bug under a microscope. The _Vod_ closest to him -- Helix, who'd wound up pressed tightly against Cody's back -- reached out in the network, feeling like he was putting a hand on the General's wrist in a gesture that clearly said _stop, wait, later_. And the feeling of being so closely observed vanished again.

Cody shuddered. Force, that was a feeling that had unpleasant associations.

Far less intense than feeling his _Vod'e_ drop out of the network would surely be once they started shielding, but still enough to make him uncomfortable. It was a reaction all of his _Vod'e_ shared, though, so he wasn't about to let it embarrass him.

Simply something the General didn't know about them. Well. Hadn't known.

With what felt like an apologetic touch to their collective shoulder, the General pulled back a little. Wooley and Waxer stopped him before he could shield himself out of the network entirely. _No,_ Vod. _Stay,_ they told him firmly.

Cody felt the General startle slightly, still unused to being explicitly referred to as one of their number, all too accustomed to being on his kriffing own, and knew that this step forward that they'd just taken would change them all profoundly.

The entire network -- including Kenobi -- resonated around him, echoing back agreement and rueful acceptance.

He wasn't sure how much time passed after that, as the eight of them gradually, incrementally relaxed into their new stronger connections. He had no idea how long it took them to get accustomed to the intensity of the sense-memories that names called up now. That had been a phenomenon he'd heard _Vod'e_ talk about occasionally on Kamino, always in the context of _I've-heard-this-can-happen-but-no-one's-ever-seen-it_ , a rumour every _Vod_ had heard but never truly credited.

It certainly seemed to be a real enough phenomenon.

The scents of armour wax and synthetic textiles and ozone that never quite stopped clinging to their skins, the feel of their armour against their blacks, the weight of their equipment as they moved. The murmur and cadence of familiar voices and the sight of instantly recognisable silhouettes. All of it was comforting. Known, _safe._

Cody knew that the rest of his _Vod'e_ were weathering this better than he was, had fewer new sensory inputs to slot away. They'd already been part of the network, had already gotten to know one another that way. No, they were learning _him_ while he felt them out, learned what made them unique.

He'd picked out some things when he'd first joined the network, but now everything was clearer, like a layer of distorting shimmerglass had been shattered.

Wooley, as the strongest of them in the Force, suddenly had the second heaviest presence in their network, and paradoxically made himself unique among them by taking those qualities that every _Vod_ shared, and making it his goal to embody them. The familiar features, the feeling of a reassuring hand on one's shoulder, the dependability, the willingness to help... he took each one and made it part of his core. It left him feeling like he was nondescript, on first glance, but the reality of it was quite different. That was a _Vod_ who'd taken all of Jango's lessons firmly to heart and done his level best to pass them on by doing what he could to make himself an example the younger batches could aspire to.

Waxer and Boil -- somewhat predictably -- all but shared a signature, each _Vod_ simply shading it slightly differently. The pair of them read as a blend of affection and humour and mutual devotion, layered over the basis that made them _Vod'e_ , but where Boil tended to add the strong smell and taste of caf and the feel of a detonator in his hand, Waxer was a little more careworn, a byproduct of his position as Lieutenant, second-in-command of Ghost Company and the _Vod_ in personal command of four squads.

Longshot's signature was simple and straightforward in comparison, taking the base dependability and willingness to help, and layering it with the fierce protectiveness Cody had first gotten from him two days ago, when he'd first hit the network, distraught and utterly off balance after his surgery and Kenobi's ill-timed questions. But there was more to their marksman. More detail to be had, now. Not just the sense of distance and pinpoint accuracy that had followed on the heels of the protectiveness last time, but the familiar scent of blaster oil and spent cartridges of tibanna gas, the drive to protect, to win. To be the best he could be, to make sure that as many _Vod'e_ and civilians as possible made it home.

Crys still felt to him like tech and logic and tenacity, and always would. That _Vod_ had gotten to be as good at slicing as he was through sheer force of will, and it showed. He had never yet let himself be defeated in the arenas he excelled. But now Cody could also sense his _vod_ 's boundless curiosity and what read as more than a hint of vanity; it was there, in the smells of hair dye and armour paint that never quite seemed to dry, thanks to the frequency with which Crys touched both up. _Or had,_ Cody thought wryly. _He hasn't been able to do either since we landed in the past. His roots are showing._

That got him a pointed nudge from the _Vod_ in question and amusement from the others.

Helix, Cody knew already. That was a _Vod_ he'd gotten as close to as he'd once been with Mirshko, painful as the comparison was. He and Helix might not have added any kind of physical dimension to their tight friendship -- Cody hadn't been able to even think about allowing that to develop, after what had happened to cost him his _cyare_ \-- but they knew each other's nightmares and daydreams... and they knew what it was to shelter one another from them, too. 

Helix took the usual drive to help, the care and determination that every _Vod_ showed, and turned it up to kriffing eleven. He was desperate hope that he could help every patient to cross his path. He was the sheer tireless grit that was needed to deal with surgeries that lasted multiple hours and to do several of them in a rotation, if he had to. He was calm, collected rational thought under fire, ruthlessly blocking out as much of the pain and stress of the world, of battle, of his job, as he could at any given time, so that he could make the best decisions possible in the horrible situations a battle medic got thrust into. He was a firm handclasp that hauled you back to your feet and made sure you had your balance, and he was a steadying hand when you stumbled. That _Vod_ was, objectively, the best of them. A kriffing hero who got little acknowledgement and didn't ask for any, either.

And then there was their General. He seemed to loom in their network now, a towering presence that they could influence, and strongly, but with very carefully and sharply defined edges. Kenobi knew exactly who and what he was, and tried to protect that.

Or at least, Cody realised, the General thought he knew.

He'd occasionally met _Vod'e_ with sharp edges like that, seen them among those who, like him, had had their networks torn away. For all that he hadn't known it at the time.

Now, looking back, he could see that they'd attempted to protect their new networks by holding themselves back, by sticking to very precise lines in the metaphorical sand. It had never once yet worked, that he knew of. They'd all been changed by their experiences, drastically enough that trying to keep to the boundaries that had worked for them before caused them pain afterwards.

Every last one of them had eventually given in to their networks' tendency to erode sharp lines like that. It was the nature of the beast; no network tolerated that kind of reticence easily. Their closely connected _Vod'e_ always seemed to reflexively brush up against those sharp lines, giving of themselves to blur them, to encourage their injured _Vod_ to join in the sharing properly. To heal, to grow, to let go of their pain and move on from it.

Helix, Wolffe, and Rex had done that for him.

Now, it was time he paid that selfless act forward.

He and his troopers would do it for their General. Of that, Cody was certain. It might take a long time -- Kenobi was legendarily stubborn and strong-willed -- but they would come through. They were _Vod'e_ , trained to win and conditioned not to give up.

Behind those sharp delineations in the network, Cody could feel Kenobi himself. It was a strange unfamiliar kind of presence, compared to those of his _Vod'e_ , but no less wanted or cherished for that. Kenobi was weariness and selflessness in the service of others. He was the pull of old scars and lingering aches of old injuries, and the persistent drive to be better-faster-stronger- _more_. He was fire that burned and warmth that nurtured. He was the flood that obliterated everything in its path, inexorable, and the gentle trickle of water that encouraged new growth.

And he was making Cody wax lyrical. 

Not entirely sure how to react to the knowledge that Helix would probably pry this out of him later, Cody turned his thoughts back to the present.

 _Cody,_ Kenobi called out to him in their bond, asking for his attention and instead distracting him completely with the way the bond translated his name into a series of impressions.

Calm authority and competence. Caring and steadfastness. Pain and sorrow and the strength to fight through both to get everyone possible back off the battlefield. Cleverness and creativity and innovative ways over, around, or through obstacles. Gruff fondness and affection for every last shiny, and exasperated tolerance for the older _Vod'e_ who really should know better. Meticulous attention to detail, and a willingness to buck the rules where needed, for all that he usually let Rex do that for him.

When the flood of input slowed, Cody shook his head to clear it. "What was _that_?" He muttered.

Helix chuckled. "That was the General's image of you, _Vod_ ," he answered the question Cody retroactively decided had been rhetorical.

"Not quite true, but close enough," Kenobi said with a shrug. "That didn't work in quite the way I'm used to."

Cody gave him a sardonic look. "Your only other previous experience doing anything like this was with General Skywalker and your old master. Of course it'll be different."

The General returned his sardonic look with interest. "It goes rather deeper than that, Cody," he said, "but we can discuss that another time. What I was hoping to do was find out whether you were ready to move on to the final part of our meditation."

"Final part?" Wooley asked him. "There's _more_?"

The innocent question got him a bright smile. "Oh yes. The best part of any meditation is getting to touch the Force."

"That's possible?" Crys interjected, with a curious tilt to his head.

"That's how I do most of my manipulations," Kenobi said with a shrug. "It's how I pick you up for flight training drills, and it's how I do my Force jumps. It's what lets me feel out beings with bad intentions, and how I read a battlefield."

"Huh." Several _Vod'e_ said, and exchanged glances.

"And we can do that too?" Helix pursued the point.

"To a lesser degree, certainly. Most of you are only just strong enough to sense the currents around us, the way the Force lights up all living beings, but Wooley certainly can. Or will be able to, once he's been trained." The General paused. "Before we continue, though, you seven need a first lesson in balance."

"Balance?" Longshot demanded. "We can balance fine."

"Emotionally?" Kenobi responded, "You might know how, instinctively, but you're not used to doing it actively, which you will have to, now that your chips are out and you've dragged me into your network. What happened to me the night Waxer, Crys and Longshot were taken from us could easily happen to any one of you, now. "

Helix's expression went grave. "What, exactly, _did_ happen that night? From the outside it looked like you had a kriffing seizure, but what you're alluding to sounds like something very different."

"What happened is that you four were so angry that you managed to overwhelm me with it, and that Crys, Waxer, and Longshot were also in distress," the General said simply. "Strong negative emotion, especially when it isn't properly acknowledged and then allowed to dissipate again, is toxic for Jedi. Holding onto those emotions and letting them fester... that is what leads to the Dark Side."

"That explains nothing, sir," Helix said bluntly. "Try again, please."

"On the contrary. That should explain everything. It can feel like a physical sensation, to other Force sensitives. Here. I'll show you what I mean," Kenobi said, and then a sharp stab of mixed anxiety and anger went through Cody, leaving him clutching at his temples. It was followed up by a slow swell of resentment that made his vision swim and his head ache. Cody felt bile rise in his throat. "Or it can be an entirely emotional input," he added, "like the blow that hit me that night. What you saw as a seizure, was the outward evidence of what I was fighting."

And then, carefully muted scraps of memory, feeling as though they were so old and faded that they'd lost all colour, started filtering through the network. Little snatches of first-person experience that Cody knew would have overwhelmed them at anywhere near their full intensity.

They were bad enough as it was.

 _He gasped and arched up off the bed as he was dragged into a whirling maelstrom of fury and fear._ Oh Force, he felt like he was drowning, trapped, encircled. Contacts closing in on all sides. He was outnumbered and there was no escape.

 _The harder he struggled, the tighter the_ Vod'e _held on to him; their fear of losing him was tangible in the air._ Kriff, no, that was exactly the wrong thing to do. They shouldn't be holding onto him. He'd only get them killed. No. No, no, _no._

_Someone had **dared** to harm what was **his**. His Brothers, his **family**. All he had to do to get them back was hunt down the fools responsible and wipe them from the face of the planet. It would be so very easy._ Nuke the site from orbit. Destroy it. Raze it to the ground. _No one_ hurt his _Vod'e_ like that and got away with it.

 _Just a little flex of power, it whispered, and he could have his _Vod'e_ back. The Jedi had wiped out Mandalore once, burned it down to barren bedrock. It wouldn't be so hard to do that again._ No, it really wouldn't, and they'd deserve it. The galaxy would be a better place for it, and he wouldn't stop until the job was done.

 _Commander!_ Helix shouted at him, the network backing him up wholeheartedly, his words urgent and radiating command. _Let it go! **Now** , Vod_!

Cody tried to shove the memory away, fought to get loose of it. Helix always knew what to do if he lost his way. Helix was incredibly karking good at that and Cody knew he had to follow that order. Knew that something had gone badly wrong somewhere and he needed to find his way back out of wherever he was. Or whatever he was.

Reaching out, blindly, unsure where his _vod_ was, Cody tried not to let himself panic. That would help exactly _no one_ in this situation. His _vod_ reached back, grabbing his forearm firmly, and hauled him out, leaving him flat on his back, fighting for air.

When a sharing went south, it could be tough to figure out where you ended and your _Vod_ began.

Sharing of thoughts and memories or advice on how to pick up a new skill was only done with unforced consent from both parties. And while he thought that the kind of sharing the _Vod'e_ undertook when they wanted to share knowledge was likely very different from whatever the _jetiise_ were doing, he also couldn't be sure that that was the case.

When _Vod'e_ shared anything of themselves, it was like the new information had always been there, subconsciously, latent, and simply been uncovered... or had been until they'd gotten their chips removed, at least. Now... it seemed like any kind of sharing they undertook would be orders of magnitude more intense. And -- Cody wasn't sure whether that new intensity would make things better or worse -- such things worked best among _Vod'e_ that knew one another well. Batchmates and squadmates tended to be successful when they tried to share amongst themselves, but sharings between squads or batches was far more difficult. None of the _Vod'e_ knew quite how or why it worked, but it was an immense tactical advantage and they had no intention of giving it up.

Back at the point in the timeline they'd come from, no being who wasn't a _Vod_ had ever had any idea that they had this skill, either. It'd had to be that way. Absolute silence on the topic had been crucial to their very survival. Had the Kaminoans heard so much as a hint of a rumour about it, there was no question that they would have immediately tried to pick the phenomenon apart, resulting in "testing". There was no doubt in any _Vod_ 's mind that that would have meant the disappearances -- and likely the deaths -- of many _Vod'e_. Entire squads or even batches would have been at risk, potentially even the entire GAR. Hells, they couldn't have even told the Generals they trusted, for fear that somehow it would get out.

Getting loose felt like peeling off muddy blacks, clinging and sticky, and then, somehow, Cody found himself sprawled on the 'ground', fighting for air, with his worried _Vod'e_ clustered around him, on their knees, trying to recenter him. Kenobi had his hands at Cody's temples, Cody's head in his lap, but wasn't actively doing anything.

He all but reeked of guilt and self-recrimination in the network, though he was shielding their new bonds tightly enough that most of the feeling stayed contained. "This is turning out to be a far more difficult meditation than I'd expected," he said dryly.

Helix sighed. "We all knew it would be difficult going into this, General," he said, weary. "But for kriff's sake, please warn us a bit more next time you try something like that?"

"Obviously," Kenobi replied, then looked down to meet Cody's eyes. "It seems I keep hurting you unintentionally, Commander," he said heavily, "and it pains me that the most I can do is keep apologising for it."

Cody shook his head and reached up to put his own hand on Kenobi's jaw, daring, knowing his General needed comfort at least as much as he did. "You couldn't have known," he rasped, his voice hoarse as though he'd been screaming. Maybe he had been. "Our networks--" his voice cut out and he had to clear his throat. "I... until now, no one outside the _Vod'e_ ever knew that we could do this, sir. It would've been a death sentence on Kamino, if anyone besides another _Vod_ had found out about the ability." Cody felt more than heard Kenobi's pained hiss of invective. He wet his lips and went on. "We're _used_ to using our networks for sharing things like that. Strategies, skills, information, any and everything relevant. The impact of a memory tends to magnify with each networked _Vod_ who shares it. Good ones get better, useful ones spread knowledge. Bad ones... well. This is why I didn't want to talk about or share any of my own bad experiences. Still don't. Bad enough that Helix is networked in and already knows the majority of it."

Cody felt the collective wince that went through his men.

They all knew what _that_ meant.

His troopers knew he had seen and experienced a lot, on Kamino and afterwards. An experience that _he_ felt was so thoroughly upsetting that it wasn't a good one to share... was bound to be an incredibly difficult memory to carry. The _Vod'e_ were all painfully aware that sometimes that sort of thing could and did throw entire networks off their feet. It was a thing that you heard whispers about during training, that you heard rumours about in the days after a ground campaign. Cody had personally seen it happen a few times as Commander of the 7th Sky after particularly heavy losses.

Every now and then, after a Remembrance Day, a few _Vod'e_ would end up in Helix's care.

Sometimes they were just found dead in their bunks.

Kenobi flinched away, hard, and Cody belatedly realised he'd shared all of that with the whole network, without thinking.

"And I triggered that, just now?" their General asked, sounding stunned.

Kark.

 _No,_ Waxer and Boil told him, flinging themselves at Kenobi in their bond and the network. _No, you make it bearable, General. Don't ever think that you're the root cause. You're not._

Crys and Longshot joined in. _Without you, sir, it would have been so much worse._

Cody took his General's hands in his own. "You, General, are an idiot if you think any of this is your fault," he declared flatly and sat up carefully. "You can't go beating yourself up like that for every little mistake you make where the network is concerned, considering we're just as clueless as you about the potential pitfalls of using it, now that we're free of those kriffing chips. We're scouting entirely new territory."

Helix nodded. "Commander's right. You should listen to him, _Vod_."

Kenobi bit his lip, hesitated, then sighed. "Sometimes I hate it when you two are right," he grumbled, making Helix laugh. "Once you've recovered from this meditation," Kenobi went on, his tone just demanding enough to make it sound like an order, "you're going to tell me or show me _exactly_ what your networks were like before those chips came out. I should be able to extrapolate a course of action from there, given what we've learned about how they react without the chips."

Wooley nodded. "Makes sense, sir. But there was something you wanted to show us?"

Kenobi blinked at him for a moment, then nodded back. "Right. There was. I was going to show you how to avoid having that emotional feedback loop happen again."

"And for that you had to show us... whatever that memory was?" Boil gave him a skeptical look.

" _That_ was what I felt. That was what looked to you like a seizure. The wave of emotion, and then the temptation that whispers at you," Kenobi looked a bit ruefully at them.

"So how _do_ you avoid it, then?" Longshot prompted him to get to the point.

"It's the emotions that are held on to that are the ones that are dangerous. Anger, fear, hate, sadness... the feelings that are kept close rather than released." The General explained, his tone matter of fact and words simple.

"So you're saying," Helix replied, picking his words carefully, "that's why the Commander's battle-mindset was so effective?"

"He let go of all the anger and fear he could and shoved all his worries back out of the way. Of course it was effective," Kenobi replied, as though that should've been obvious.

It kind of was, Cody had to admit, now that he was thinking about things in the context of what they'd just learnt, but the whole thing still seemed completely counterintuitive on some levels. He wasn't really releasing anything when he did that. Just shoving it aside so he could think rationally and deal with the emotions later.

After a beat Kenobi added, "There are other methods to accomplish the same thing, to be sure, but if that one works for you, use it, _Vod'e_."

"Show us your other methods," Longshot said, breaking his silence. "Can't hurt to know both. Or multiple."

The General's lips twitched up into a brief fond smile, before he said, "Alright, then. Here's one. Remember that thick soup of a fog that's still surrounding us? Blocking out sight and sound and muffling everything?"

The _Vod'e_ nodded.

"Let it represent the bad emotions and stress you feel. Let it take on meaning in your minds, rather than simply being an image to focus on," General Kenobi told them, and Cody could feel the shift in their focus over the network even as he did the same. It was oddly easy to follow that command.

"Now let the fog dissipate, let it reveal what's around you and take those emotions it represents right along with it. Let your muscles relax as it vanishes, and your minds clear."

Cody could hear the smile in Kenobi's voice as they followed orders.

Afterwards, he had to admit, he did feel a lot better. A tension in him that he hadn't even realised was there was gone, and now that the fog was, as well, he could see hints of the room they were sitting in. His _Vod'e_ seated around him, were glowing softly, and Wooley and the General both felt like a pair of kriffing suns. Radiating warmth and light but ready to burn at a moment's notice.

There was a profound sense of _peace_. Around him and in the network, and in a small ball coiled up somewhere under his sternum.

"Wow," Wooley said with a quiet awed tone.

"Luminous beings, we are," the General said, with the air of a man quoting someone. "Not this crude matter. The Force is in every living being, it connects us, binds us, flows through us. It sustains us. It affects matter, as well."

Cody glanced around him, and for all that he couldn't really discern more than a persistent bright shimmer -- it reminded him of the few bioluminescent animals he'd seen -- lingering around every object and surface, he knew, bone deep, that Kenobi was right.

There was also the sense that Kenobi had sealed them off inside the room. Keeping the world out, as he'd promised -- and keeping them in.

That didn't really matter though. The sheer tranquility that was washing over him, leaving him with the faint urge to let himself sink back to the floor and just lie there limply, was karking amazing. It was a kind of serenity he didn't think he'd ever experienced before. On Kamino there had been the constant pressure to perform well. In the field, that hadn't changed.

He'd never really had the opportunity to... float, like this. Peaceful. Timeless. Buffered from everything negative in the galaxy.

It was the diametrical opposite of the memories the General had shared, which had attempted to shred through their network like a feral nexu. It felt more like they were knitting closer together, free to approach without worry. Without fearing that they might say the wrong thing or make a move that would result in someone getting a flashback.

Content to just soak it all in until the General called time, Cody let himself just... be.

After everything that had happened, just now, he knew he needed a bit of downtime.


	27. Chapter 27

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Ben watched over his _Vod'e_ , letting them explore the room with their new senses and gradually letting the feeling of _peace_ radiating off them calm him back down.

Careful to keep it behind his shields, he kicked himself. Kriff, but he'd been really rather careless with them.

Again.

It was only their unshakeable trust in him that had kept this meditation from turning into a complete mess. Right from the start, he'd done everything wrong. With the best of intentions, to be sure. But he had.

It had been sheer reflexive habit to treat them like he would have a set of Temple-trained initiates, and he hadn't thought twice about it until they'd all balked at the idea of being alone in the imagined fog.

And then he'd had to fight not to make any false moves -- not to let himself feel hurt or impatient -- while Cody worked through whatever lingering anxieties he had over sealing their Force bond. He'd only barely managed it.

He'd been rewarded by the sight and feel of Cody making a leap of faith, flinging himself out into the unknown and trusting Ben to catch him, despite his lingering trepidation and the fear that he'd end up alone despite his best efforts.

And then he'd turned right around and repaid the trust all seven of them had in him with another kark up when he'd tried to show them what might go wrong if they weren't careful about their emotions...

Ben swallowed back a wince and forced the memory away, letting go of his own tension and guilt as much as he could. Kark, he'd given himself and all his _Vod'e_ a bit of a shock with how strongly they'd all reacted to that. But Cody. Kriff, Cody had taken it very badly.

He'd resolved to give them time, after that. To let all seven of them unwind a little and come back down off the unpleasantness. It definitely hadn't escaped his notice that Cody was simply letting himself drift, not bothering to actively move or do much of anything. He was reacting much the same way to this experience as he had to Ben's kark up right after the surgery to remove the chip in his head. Just... giving up his agency for a while.

While the other six explored, touching and tasting and generally reaching out with all of their senses, Ben knelt next to Cody, and kept watch. It was the least he could do. If Cody noticed he was there, he gave no sign, but Ben doubted his presence had gone unremarked. After a few minutes that felt more like hours to Ben, the rest of the _Vod'e_ glanced over at their Commander, and then at one another, exchanging relieved nods.

It took a while longer still for Cody to uncurl and make himself do anything, and when he did, all he seemed to have the energy for was to raise one hand up far enough to place it on Ben's forearm, _offering Ben comfort_. Cody didn't even open his eyes to do it.

Kriff, but he didn't deserve their loyalty. Couldn't bring himself to accept the offered comfort, either. Gently peeling Cody's hand off his arm, with one hand Ben put his other over Cody's, catching his Commander's hand in both of his in a grip that would take no effort at all to break. "Commander? You awake?"

"More or less?" Cody responded after a beat, making no move to pull away. "'M way too relaxed to be 'sleep."

Helix huffed at him. "You mastered the art of worrying in your sleep back when you were a cadet, _Vod_ ," he put in. "Check in with me."

Ben had heard them use that phrase before. It seemed to mean something beyond the obvious, but he wasn't quite sure what. The network held a mix of concern, calm, relief, and a few other things so muddled Ben couldn't quite make them out, but no one was actively afraid for Cody's state of mind.

Cody shrugged carelessly, not bothering to sit up from his position sprawled on the floor with his cushion tucked into the small of his back. "Dunno," he answered, his usual precise diction seeming to have temporarily vanished. "Loose. Floaty. Not sure what'll happen when I come back down."

That made Helix frown, but he didn't do more than call the other _Vod'e_ in close with a gesture. "We can help buffer that, if you'll let us," he said, picking his words carefully.

"Been a while since I had a network this big," Cody said, sounding like he didn't have a care in the world. Almost euphoric. "Might as well take advantage of it while it's there."

Waxer and Boil both flinched, hard, sending a shiver through the network. It dried up before it got anywhere near Cody, smoothed out by the others.

"And on that note," Ben put in, speaking up for the first time in a while, "I believe it's time we brought this to a conclusion. You'll want to eat and drink once you're settled back in your skins, and then rest. A successful meditation can be quite tiring, even when it's not as difficult as this one has been."

Wooley snorted. "You mean you don't regularly have to deal with everything nearly going tits up repeatedly?"

"No, not really," Ben answered, deciding to take that at face value. "Come, take your places around us again. Wherever you'd like. Where you are relative to your physical position in the room doesn't matter."

His _Vod'e_ exchanged glances, then seated themselves around him and Cody, within arm's reach of them both. Waxer and Boil did reach out and put their hands on Cody's right forearm, pulling a hint of a smile out of the usually stoic Commander.

"First things first. Recalibrate your physical senses. Remember how it felt to adjust your posture earlier? Remember the feeling of the cushion under your knees and your clothes against your skin?" Ben asked them. He got a few distracted nods. "How about the way the air in the room tastes and smells? The slight hint of dust that rose when we pulled the cushions off the sofa. Your armour. Your _Vod'e_."

Waxer smirked, and let his eyes fall shut. "You could stand to take a shower, _riduur_ ," he teased.

Boil swore at him, as the others snickered. Even Cody cracked a smile, though it faded again quickly.

Ben waited for them to settle again before he prompted them to take the next step. "Start slow," he cautioned them. "Small movements are best, at first. Wiggle your fingers and toes, shift your weight but don't try to stand. Let yourself breathe a bit deeper and feel the way it changes your posture."

None of them seemed to react badly to that first step back into the physical world, so Ben gave them another slight nudge forward. "Now move your hands and feet. Flex your elbows and knees a little. It'll feel like waking up from a deep sleep. Let it. Take things at your own pace and let yourselves wake up."

The images of them in his meditation started to fade away, one by one, until only Wooley and Cody still lingered.

 _Come on, Commander,_ he heard in the network. Helix. _We've got you,_ vod. _Come on back_.

And then, abruptly, Cody was gone.

Once more amazed at the inexorable pull Helix seemed to have on Cody, Ben gave Wooley the last push he needed to get back, himself, and followed them.

When he reopened his eyes on the scene in the room, he had to stifle a chuckle. Waxer and Boil were sprawled out, facedown, on the floor and ignoring everything. Helix had somehow found his way over to sit beside Cody, and the others looked like they desperately wanted some water to drink but didn't quite have the strength to get up and find a glass. The lot of them wore expressions that said they had no idea whether to feel exhausted or energised enough to get up and run around the palace a few times, just to work out some of the restlessness.

That all seemed about right. "Everyone intact? No pains? No lingering strangeness?"

"Kriffing thirsty," Crys rasped, and all of his _Vod'e_ nodded.

"Stay put," he told them. "I'll get you some water."

Helix moved to stand and help him. "I'll--"

"You'll do no such thing," Ben told him firmly, enjoying the fact that for once he got to boss his medic around. "You're just as worn out as the others, so you'll stay here and keep an eye on them while I find a tray and refreshments."

Helix scowled at him, but conceded the point. He relaxed back to lean on his elbows before he gave in to gravity's demands and let himself lie back on the floor beside Cody. Ben nodded, satisfied, and betook himself into their kitchen area. A quick glance through the cupboards revealed nothing but water glasses that were far too small for his taste, some caf mugs, and a few fancier glasses meant for alcoholic beverages.

That wouldn't do.

Changing directions, Ben reached out with the Force and grabbed for the canteens they'd left with their armour in their sleeping quarters, picking them up and calling them to him.

As he filled them, hanging each one over his off shoulder by its strap once he'd closed it again, he let himself shake his head and smile. It really wasn't all that surprising that his men would be feeling like they'd been hit by a speeder. Meditation was just as much a skill as any endurance sport.

And they'd have to eat accordingly, once they'd recovered enough to make themselves presentable and ask someone to bring them a sufficient number of calories.

When he returned to the room, his _Vod'e_ had rearranged themselves on the scavenged sofa cushions -- with lots of painstaking effort, Ben was sure -- until they'd managed to get into the comforting tangle of limbs they preferred to use when they slept. All of them had at least one hand on Cody, though. It was a protective gesture, and a sweet one. Probably a needed one, after all the emotion Cody had flung around at them during the meditation.

Force, that had been difficult to endure.

The way Cody had felt when he'd talked about the way the network handled memories and bad experiences... That had been too kriffing familiar. The loneliness. The isolation. The weariness and grief. 

He had no idea how he could help, though.

It was beyond obvious that what he'd learned during Anakin's apprenticeship wouldn't fly, when working with his _Vod'e_. That had come clear the very first night he'd impulsively completed the Force bonds with his first three men, and that disaster of a meditation session had only reinforced the lesson.

He couldn't shield the bond and keep himself out of the mix, either. They wouldn't allow it. Not only would it distress them to feel him "die", but they'd be worrying about him -- and each other -- the entire time he stayed shielded.

Nor could he apply the usual Jedi approach to such problems -- which Helix still insisted on referring to as 'ignoring them' -- to the issue. It simply wouldn't work.

Ben yanked his thoughts back away from that complicated topic when six pairs of amber eyes turned towards him. "Here," he said, and started handing out canteens. "You know the drill. Start slowly."

Maybe, seeing the way Cody repeatedly turned to Helix for support, he'd have to talk to their medic about it.

He got six mumbled 'thank you's -- Cody seemed to actually be asleep, worn out by the whole experience -- and then carefully settled himself in his own accustomed spot.

He might not be able to do anything right now, but he could -- and would -- let his Commander cling to him, if it helped.

Helix gave him an approving look.

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Now that they were several days into their campaign against the Death Watch, Jaster was kriffing relieved to have the _jetiise_ around. 

Oh, they were useful in a fight. No question. Most were reasonably willing to work with their assigned _verd'e_ and nearly tripled their effectiveness on the field. 

But what Jaster found most invaluable was Ben and Master Dooku's strategic know-how. 

Jaster was a fighter. He was used to deploying several companies of _verd'e_ to accomplish an objective. He'd dare say that he was good at it, too.

He was not at all used to fighting a war with multiple battles on several fronts engaging at the same time. 

If he'd had to wage this little civil war without aid, he would have done a reasonably decent job. Probably. The losses would have been much higher, though, and the fighting would have dragged out. 

With Ben, Cody, and Master Dooku coming to strategy meetings and adding in their frighteningly competent opinions, the battles went smoothly and quickly. No sooner had one Death Watch camp been cleared, than attacks on two more were being set up. Jaster had _never_ seen a campaign roll out this fast. 

Holy _kark_ , he was glad he'd gotten Ben and Cody to stick around in Sundari. The Councilors barely even gave them a second glance now, not even when Ben routinely did his little invisible stepping stone trick for himself and Cody. 

Before Ben and his _vod'e_ had taken the time to deal with the surgeries, they'd laid out extensive plans for the next week or two of battle. "Just in case," Ben had said. 

When Ben couldn't be around, Master Dooku was there, aside from the two days of surgery. Dooku, Jaster had come to realize, was almost as good at strategy as Ben and was just as willing to work with Jaster and his people. 

In the galactic standard week and a half since the attack on the labor camp where Crys and Longshot had been held, _eight_ more major Death Watch bases had been wiped clean off the map. Most of Clan Vizsla had eventually gone down fighting, having decided that it was better to die in armor than have their honor stripped away as Jaster had their lands and power stripped from them. _Honor_. As if anyone who willingly aligned themselves with the Death Watch had any.

Those who cooperated were allowed leniency. Chieftain Adonai and the New Mandalorians had spearheaded that, with Jaster keeping an unhappy eye on the whole affair. 

Because of the agreement to take as few lives as possible, the attacks had ended up netting them many prisoners. The more rabid ones had suicided at the first chance, rather than face a trial and likely imprisonment for life. 

Every single battle company returned with more than just prisoners, though. They'd come back with a host of younglings. Children of all ages, up to late teenagers. All of them forced into labor. The littlest ones had been used for menial tasks, and the older ones pressed into gangs and subjected to brutal training. Some kind of indoctrination to turn them into more Death Watch _verd'e_.

That had pained Jaster the most. The children's families had been those who'd resisted Death Watch. The adults had been killed and the children made use of. 

Each one of them had heartbreaking tales of what it took to earn 'freedoms'. The more they worked, the more loyal they were to Death Watch, the less pain they endured and the more food they got. That turned into permission to do various tasks, more access to the camps, and eventually they were pressed into service. 

It was insidious the way their loyalty to other younglings and their need for a greater clan was used against them. 

Jaster thanked every single one of his lucky stars that they'd been able to address this atrocity before it had built for too long.

It turned out that Tor Vizsla had played his hand too quickly, and had gathered more trouble than he could possibly have imagined with his surprise attack on Korda VI. So far, the oldest operating Death Watch labor camp they’d found had barely been up and running for a year, and most of them were only a handful of months old. 

The younglings that they'd liberated were often hurt and traumatized, but, kark, it could have been so much worse. None of them had truly turned into Death Watch themselves, yet. They still remembered their families, and their honor. 

If Death Watch had had those labor camps up and running for years rather than just months, the number of fanatic _verd'e_ they could have eventually fielded was terrifying. 

Kriff, if Jaster had died on Korda VI, no one would have ever found these camps. They would have been able to continue to steal children and pick off weak clans and gain in numbers until no one would have stood a chance against them.

Jaster thought of this every day during his Hour of Remembrances. He mourned every single name that was added to his list, every _verd_ lost, but he nearly wept with gratitude that they'd all had a chance to destroy this threat now.

So much would have changed if Ben and his _vod'e_ hadn't shown up. It was precisely because Jaster believed their story that he was able to properly understand the devastating salvo of blaster fire he'd just dodged. That all of Mandalore had dodged. 

There were still a few more places to search, and a handful of Death Watch lieutenants to track down. No one had seen hide nor hair of Pre Vizsla. Jaster suspected that he'd jumped the system. He'd sent out _verd'e_ specifically to hunt the _shabuir_ down. There was no telling when, or if, they would be successful. 

Over the course of the last few weeks, Jaster had found himself more and more at ease in Master Dooku's presence. He still wasn't terribly happy about having _jetiise_ running around his palace, but Dooku wasn't awful. They seemed to agree on several fairly important subjects, not the least of which was that Ben and the _vod'e_ had clearly had a terrible karking life up until now and it was now Jaster and Dooku's job to see that it was less awful. 

They'd never openly discussed this. They hadn't needed to. Every time a new horror spilled from the _ad'ike_ , Jaster and Dooku would just exchange a look. One that very clearly said that this sort of _osik_ was unacceptable. 

The Council members were getting used to him, too. That was a relief for everyone involved. 

On the day that Wooley and Boil had gotten their chips out, the _jetii_ healer had shown up: a young blue skinned Twi'lek by the name of Vokara Che. She'd minced no words with Jaster, and had immediately demanded to see her patients. This wasn't unexpected. What _was_ unexpected was the way that, after seeing to Knight Xen and Knight Lara'guz, she'd moved on to the rest of the wounded taken from the battlefield, starting with the children who were recovering slaves. 

She was a very abrupt woman. She got along smashingly with the _Mando'ad'e_ at the clinic as well as the rest of the _verd'e_.

Curious, Jaster had taken some time to watch her work in one of the open air overflow treatment areas. He'd vaguely expected some kind of hand waving. Maybe meditation like Ben liked to do.

What actually happened was that Healer Che laid out an array of kyber crystals and then proceeded to make them float around the patients. They _glowed_ and smaller wounds just vanished in a matter of minutes or sometimes even seconds. She spaced out her treatments carefully, husbanding her reserves, and it was clear that the more extreme cases would take several days' worth of effort. 

It was still one of the most magical things that Jaster had ever seen. Maybe because it was so peaceful. He knew he was a Force Null, but even he could tell that in some ineffable way the crystals were setting things to right in the world. One person at a time. 

He'd invited Che to join him, his _ad'e_ , and Master Dooku for dinner at some point, but she'd declined. 

"I'm not here to chat, _Mand'alor_ ," she'd said plainly. "Though I am burning up a hell of a lot of energy while I'm here. Just arrange for double meal rations for me and I'll sign you up for sainthood." The wry smile on her face had taken any real heat out of her words.

He hadn't taken offence. 

Two days later, all of his _ad'ike_ were done with surgery and spending the day staring at each other.

Apparently.

Jaster and Jango had shared a sidelong look about it, but shrugged and gone about their day. 

About mid-afternoon, Jango had gotten a comm from Ben. Jaster was just wrapping up arranging supply lines for an outgoing group of _verd'e_ as it had come in. Secure in the knowledge that Jango would let him know if anything urgent was going down, Jaster forced the comm call back out of his attention and made himself finish up what he was doing.

"Hey, _buir_ ," Jango said, trotting up to him the moment he was through. "Ben told me to tell you that they're free for the rest of the day. He said they were gonna stay in for the night, though, and asked that we bring an extra large dinner."

Jaster hastily signed off on a few more datapads before handing them to Darist to implement. "Oh yeah? No explosions?" 

He was pretty sure that the _vod'e_ had only been half joking about that this morning.

"Not that they told me about," Jango said with a grin.

"Great," Jaster muttered. He briefly debated about adding that as a standard greeting question for the _vod'e_ in the future. Did any explosions happen? Because he wasn't altogether sure how much they were willing to pass off as normal, provided they deemed the situation 'handled'. 

"Well, at least they're all alive. Probably," Jaster said with a shake of his head. "Would you see what you can round up for us tonight? I might be a couple hours late…"

"I'm on it, _buir_." Jango gave him a lazy salute.

Then he dropped three more datapads on Jaster's desk.

Apparently, Jaster's death glare wasn't working properly, because all he got back from Jango was a grin. 

Jango was as good as his word. By the time Jaster was done with his duties for the day, Jango had rounded up enough food that they needed help carrying it to the suite the _vod'e_ were staying in until theirs was redone.

It had quickly become clear to Jaster that the whole group of them sharing a suite was going to be SOP for them for the foreseeable future. Things might change as they got older, would most likely change, but for now they were more tightly knit than any group Jaster had ever seen. 

He'd made a few addendums to the reconstruction plans for the _Mand'alor_ 's wing to accommodate that. Once everything was fully repaired, the _vod'e_ would find themselves in a new and improved larger suite with one large master bedroom for when they all wanted to sleep together, and several smaller bedrooms for when they probably, eventually, decided they needed a little space, and two extra large 'freshers. There would be a lounging area and dining area large enough for all of them, as well as a sizable kitchen area.

The design was more spacious than lavish; the builders were going to join a few of the suites together to make it happen. Jaster consoled himself with the knowledge that _eight kriffing younglings_ would be taking up that space, so it wasn't like it was extravagant. He'd asked Jango for advice on it, and the two of them had come up with some great ideas.

Jango even had a plan for the unveiling, one that had made Jaster nearly fall off his chair laughing when he heard about it. 

All of this curled around in his mind as they hauled dinner into the temporary quarters. He was looking forward to the looks on the younglings' faces when they saw their new digs. It was one of the few truly good things he'd had to work on the past few weeks.

He was more than a little surprised to see all of his _ad'ike_ slumped over on the floor next to one of the couches. They'd pulled the pillows and cushions off to make a softer flop spot, but still. They looked _flattened_.

" _Ad'ike_? Are you alright?" Jaster quickly set his packages down on the table and took a few worried steps over. Jango kept working to ferry packages of food from the hall to the table. Per Cody's request, none of the servants were allowed inside their rooms, so their extra help was still out in the hall.

"We're fine," Ben said with a wave of his hand. Of all of them, he looked the best. Then again, Ben was exceedingly hard to read most of the time. 

He was squished up to Cody in the middle of the pile, with the rest of their _vod'e_ sprawled out around them. Interestingly, this time Cody seemed to be the center of the group instead of Ben. 

Jaster raised an eyebrow at them.

"Uh huh," he said. 

Ben smiled and shook his head. "We just spent a long time in meditation. It can be taxing."

Taxing. Right.

The _vod'e_ looked more than a little taxed. Especially Cody. Normally, he would be the first to be up and aware, ready for anything that might try to get between him and his general. Right now, he looked like he would much rather stay curled up on the floor.

It wasn't just tiredness. Jaster knew what simple exhaustion looked like. There was something in the slope of his shoulders and the loose way he held his head that spoke of _weariness_. A bone deep fatigue that he'd only just now allowed himself to feel.

That decided him. Whatever had happened, Jaster would let them tell him about it in their own time, if they even wanted to. Now it was his job to help them recover.

He nodded at them all and went back to the table. "Stay put. Jango and I have some unpacking to do. We'll let you know when it's all set up."

There was some brief grumbling, but the younglings didn't get up. 

Good.

Jaster took his time setting up plates and silverware, and by the time he and Jango were done, the _vod'e_ had followed the scent of food over to the table. 

The boys ate like they'd never seen food before. Even Ben, who notoriously forgot to eat or failed to eat as much as he probably should, was devouring what was in front of him at a respectable rate. 

There was something in the air that told Jaster that his _ad'e_ were still recovering from whatever they'd done during the day. He couldn't put his finger on it. They reminded him of _verd'e_ after a successful battle; tired and a little heartsore, but relieved and mostly happy.

Kark, he hated Force nonsense. He had to assume that's what this was. They'd said they were practicing staring today, after all. 

Caution and acceptance were still his watchwords with his new _ad'e_. They would trust him with what they felt comfortable sharing and he could wait them out on the rest.

So he didn't push. 

Instead, he let them finish their second helpings of food and start to work on their third before he ambushed them about something else. 

"So who's this Obi-Wan kid that you and Dooku were talking about before the first mine attack?" he asked.

He was instantly the focus of eight pairs of eyes. Crys and Longshot actually dropped their forks in shock. 

Huh, perhaps the rest of the _vod'e_ hadn't gotten around to telling them about that conversation yet. 

"What?!" Longshot whispered. His eyes were as wide as little moons. Both he and Crys glanced back and forth between Ben and Cody.

"How does _Dooku_ know about _Obi-Wan_?" Crys hissed out.

Jaster just raised his eyebrows and waited. 

Cody flashed a quick hand sign at them and then looked to Ben. One of these days, Jaster really needed to learn that silent language of theirs.

The _vod'e_ got whatever message he'd passed and they all visibly tried to settle themselves. Ben very primly finished eating his bite of food and then set his fork down. 

"Before our attack on the camp where you two were held, the rest of us in this room had a very interesting conversation with Master Dooku," Ben said. "He believes our story, and he is well aware that we have not said very much in the way of details. He offered his help." He raised a sardonic eyebrow. "In his own fashion."

"The man is as subtle as a sledgehammer," Jango said. "And as personable." There was grudging respect in his voice, though. 

Crys made an impatient movement, but Ben cut him off with a shake of his head.

"I haven't decided whether it's prudent to tell him more. But before he left, he mentioned that there was an initiate at the Temple, one Obi-Wan Kenobi, who'd been dreaming about us. It was why Master Dooku and his reinforcements arrived here so quickly. Little Obi-Wan had nightmares and Crèche Master Tinna sent him to Master Sifo-Dyas, who in turn is good friends with Master Dooku. Master Sifo-Dyas is also on the High Council, and was able to get the reinforcements ready to leave as soon as possible."

Crys and Longshot turned to look at each other with something weirdly like hope. Or maybe excitement. The rest of the _vod'e_ were nearly vibrating out of their seats from it already.

"Oh Force," Longshot said.

"A little Obi-Wan," Crys answered. 

Their attention snapped back to Ben. 

"Little," Longshot said. "How little?"

"He's five," Ben answered evenly. He poked at the food on his plate. 

" _Force_ ," Crys whispered. 

"Dooku said that little Obi-Wan wants to see his brothers," Waxer said with barely concealed glee. "He dreams about us."

Most of the _vod'e_ grimaced at that. 

"Mixed blessing," Helix muttered.

Jaster had a suspicion. He held his peace. Better to wait for the right time.

He raised an eyebrow at Ben.

Ben took a breath that was perilously close to a sigh. 

"I have reservations," he said. 

Instantly, every single one of his _vod'e_ just looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. This time Ben did sigh. And he closed his eyes for good measure. 

"I know." Ben held up his hand to them. "I won't object if a visit is to be arranged."

Kark, now all of those big, hopeful eyes were pinned right on Jaster. 

" _Buir_ ," Waxer said. "We would really, really like to see him. Can he come visit?"

There was a barely concealed implication of _and stay forever_ tacked onto the end of that statement. 

Jaster ran a hand down his face. These kids were going to give him an ulcer, he was sure of it. Inviting yet _more_ of those Temple _jetiise_ to Mandalore? And this time a kid?

"Would the _jetiise_ High Council even let a Force user that young out of their walls?" He asked instead. As deflections went, it wasn't a great one. Especially since it was likely to give his _ad'ike_ ideas.

Yup. There was that look of determination on all of their faces. 

Kriffing kark. They were gonna go break that kid out if no one was able to arrange a proper meeting.

"Sometimes," Ben said. "Generally under direct supervision of a Master. It takes special approval from the High Council, but it isn't unheard of."

"Master Sifo-Dyas could bring him," Cody said. "Dooku said that he and the cadet get along well, and he and Dooku are already friends."

 _The Cadet_. 

Jaster didn't even know where to start with the questions about _that_.

"Alright. That's." Jaster shook his head. "If for whatever crazy ass reason, the _jetiise_ agree, I'll allow a visit." 

The _vod'e_ nearly jumped out of their chairs cheering.

Jaster rapped his knuckles on the table to get their attention, and he gave them a steady glare.

"You still haven't answered my question," he reminded them. "Who's the kid?"

As much as he had wanted to press that matter first, he'd known that he needed to agree before demanding an answer. After all, it was just one Force sensitive child. A five year old, no less. It didn't matter who he grew up to be, he was a tiny youngling right now. Jaster had no real worries about who he was inviting to stay on Mandalore. 

Well, maybe about this Sifo-Dyas guy, but not the kid. 

But this kid was important to his _ad'e_ , so Jaster wanted them to know that he was willing to make decisions based on his desire to see them happy, and while he would _like_ information about this kid, it wasn't _required_ for the child to visit. He didn't need to extort his own _ad'e_ like that. He trusted them to tell him if he needed to know. 

And now _they_ knew that he trusted them to do so.

Ben clearly caught the implication right away. He looked Jaster in the eye for a long moment. 

Then he nodded, decision clearly made.

"This... should not go beyond these walls," he said quietly. That one statement made the rest of the _vod'e_ calm down. They were still jittery with excitement, but it was contained. Cody and Helix went back to picking at their food.

Jaster and Jango shared a look and then both nodded.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi is me," Ben said. "The me from this time."

Jaster blinked. 

"Come again?" he asked.

Ben's eyes twinkled. "He is me. My younger self, native to this time. Which is why I have reservations about meeting him. I'm not completely certain that it won't cause a paradox."

Jango's jaw dropped open.

" _A tiny General_ ," Boil whispered with barely contained delight.

Oh, kriff. No wonder the _vod'e_ were all mad to see this kid. 

"Force, he's got to be cute," Waxer added. "I bet he's cute."

"What would a tiny General even be like?" Crys asked no one.

"Do you think he plays sabacc yet? If he doesn't we could teach him," Longshot said.

"He's five, _di'kut_ , he doesn't play sabacc." Cody reached across the table to smack the back of Longshot's head. Longshot barely even noticed.

Ben just put his face in his hands and groaned. 

"Kark, _buir_ , I feel like we _have_ to see this," Jango said to Jaster. 

Jaster mulled the situation over while the _vod'e_ excitedly chattered amongst themselves and Ben got more and more embarrassed. 

After a few minutes, Jaster held up his hand for silence and mostly got it. 

"Just so I'm clear," Jaster said, still puzzling through the implications. "Let's say that the kid version of Ben--" He blinked. Twice. "The _more_ kid-like version of Ben comes here, and it doesn't cause the universe to implode or whatever a paradox actually does… This is another version of Ben, right?" He got some nods. "The same Ben who you all follow around like he's liable to trip and fall into a crack into the sidewalk at any moment and potentially land in an enemy encampment? But littler, with no skills and no young versions of you to stand with him? That's the kid we're talking about. Are you sure you want him to leave the safety of a Temple filled with thousands of _jetiise_ , all willing to die for their younglings?"

Horrified silence filled the room.

"Oh no, he's right," Helix said quietly.

"There would be two of them," Cody confirmed grimly. 

Ben dropped his hands onto the table, offended. "Oh come now, I wasn't that bad as a child!"

"Really, sir? Really?" Cody asked flatly. "Because you almost never talk about your childhood, but every time you let something slip, it is _awful_."

Jaster winced at the accuracy of that barb.

Ben just waved it off.

"The Temple is reasonably safe," he said dismissively. "I didn't start to get into life threatening situations until I was twelve."

"Reasonably?" Helix said, looking incredibly unimpressed.

"What is _reasonably_ safe?" Cody asked. 

"And what happened when you were twelve?" Boil added quietly.

Ben shrugged, looking rather blasé about the whole conversation. "Nothing awful. The same things that all children get involved with, I expect. There were a few fights among my peers. That sort of thing. I didn't get kidnapped by pirates until right before I aged out of the Order. The mines happened right after that," he said musingly. "But that wasn't even on Coruscant, so one can hardly blame the Temple for that."

He looked lost in thought for a moment. 

The _vod'e_ exchanged some very worried looks.

"Things did sort of snowball after that, though," Ben said softly. "I did seem to collect a rather excessive share of visits to the healers. When I was able to see one, anyways. That wasn't as often as I maybe should have gone, but I'd already been removed from the Order twice by the time I was fourteen. And put on trial for murder twice. I couldn't afford to--"

He snapped his mouth shut and his expression went as blank and pale as freshly fallen snow. 

Horror coiled in Jaster's gut. Couldn't afford to what? Go see a healer when injured because it would be admitting weakness?

His stomach churned.

"It was fine. I survived, and more often than not, the only ones who died very much needed to," Ben said dismissively. "Nothing bad should happen to Obi-Wan for several years. Crèche Master Tinna is very, very cautious, and I... He loves her very much. There are friendships I made in the crèches that lasted until the war, or until they died. I would not deprive my younger self of those bonds."

Ben focused on his food, very clearly ignoring the unhappy looks that everyone else was giving him.

Jaster didn't know what to do. From the way the _vod'e_ were looking at each other, they didn't know either. 

Helix elbowed Cody hard. Cody glared at him, and then turned to Ben.

"General--"

"It's fine, Cody," Ben said easily. "These things happened a very long time ago for me, and won't happen yet for many years in this time. If ever," he added, clearly seeing the mutinous expression on Cody's face. 

"I respectfully disagree, sir," Cody said firmly. "And none of this is convincing me that we shouldn't keep the younger you here with us."

Ben straightened in his chair, and his face took on that ever polite blankness that Jaster recognized from so many Council meetings. "We cannot care for him in the manner that he will require."

"But Master Sifo-Dyas--" Waxer started.

"Is a Council member," Ben interrupted. "One who has visions so powerful that they drove him mad, lost him his seat on the Council, and got him killed somewhere in the depths of space. He is unlikely to be able to bear the strain of having a padawan, let alone one as young as my counterpart is now. Master Dooku isn't an option, either, and if not for what we all know of him, then if only because _Obi-Wan is too young to be a padawan_."

Ben looked at his brothers searchingly.

"He is _five_. He still needs help putting his tunics on in the morning. He just got his own bedroom. He barely knows how to read. He belongs with other children who know exactly what he is going through and with masters who can guide him in the ways of the Force. There were many difficult times in my padawanship, and I am not saying that we shouldn't take a _few_ precautions when he is _older_ , but _vod'e_... Don't insist that the younger me never learn about the peace of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or befriend Master Yoda, or learn how to prank with Quin, or experience the uncountable other treasured memories I have from my childhood."

"But he could learn new things with us," Boil said.

"And we may be going back to our own time," Ben countered. 

The _vod'e_ slumped in place. Helix frowned and Cody looked stone faced. Boil and Waxer leaned into each other, while Crys, Wooley, and Longshot all stabbed at their plates with their forks. 

"I understand your worry," Ben said softly. "I do. And I am deeply honored by it. But now is not the time for us to take on this responsibility."

The room was quiet for a long moment. 

"He could visit," Ben offered, clearly trying to alleviate some of his brother's disappointment. "We can see how Master Sifo-Dyas treats him."

It was an olive branch and they all knew it. Some of the oppressive unhappiness left the room.

"If Sifo-Dyas isn't good enough, we could ask Master Plo to keep an eye on him," Cody said slowly, obviously thinking out loud.

That perked the _vod'e_ up even more.

"And Master Dooku doesn't seem terrible right now," Helix added. 

"Shockingly," Waxer said sarcastically.

Boil snorted. 

Jaster raised an eyebrow at that. He'd noticed that the _vod'e_ were more than a bit cautious around Dooku, but it wasn't the outright hostility they had towards Master Jinn.

Now, after hearing about pirates and bombings and murder trials, Jaster _really_ wanted to know what was going on with Master Jinn.

"Yeah, Dooku might help," Wooley said. 

"I was an average student at best, during my younger years. In everything but 'sabre work," Ben said. He had his thinking face on, and he drummed his fingers against the table. "Over the next few years, my counterpart will gain the basis for his education. He won't be truly eligible to be chosen as a padawan for a few years yet, and initiates don't age out until their thirteenth birthday. Perhaps…" He stopped to lick his lips, then he cast a very quick sideways glance at Cody. "Perhaps it might be best if we found a suitable master for him before that point."

There was a bleak twist to his mouth and a stiffness to his shoulders that Jaster didn't like. At all. 

"And if we can't find someone before then?" Cody asked. His tone was even, but his eyes were narrowed.

"Then I would be willing to entertain alternative plans of engagement," Ben said with a nod. 

"Noted, sir."

There were about a million things that were unsaid in that conversation, and Jaster was sure that he'd only caught a handful of them. 

Jaster eyed them all, feeling faintly suspicious.

"Well, keep me in the loop, whatever ends up happening," he said finally. "It's a hell of a lot easier for me to cover your asses if I know what's going on."

That netted him some mildly surprised looks, followed by tentative smiles. Ben looked more surprised than the rest, but Jaster was coming to realize that Ben had basically zero faith that anyone other than his _vod'e_ would ever look out for him.

"We will," Cody said. "And thank you, _buir_."

Jaster smiled and waved off the thanks. "Just give me some time to talk to Master Dooku about it. I wanna pick his brain about a few things anyways, and he and I will need to coordinate logistics."

To his own mild surprise, Jaster found himself a little excited about the prospect of Ben's younger self coming by for a visit. 

Part of him just wanted to verify that the child was healthy and happy. If not, he was absolutely certain that he'd have more volunteers than he knew what to do with to keep the child here, not even counting the _vod'e_.

Another part of him was looking forward to the possibility of a little joy around the palace. Jaster hadn't been part of as many battles as he'd expected to be, but he was already profoundly tired out by the whole campaign. Some of his more bloodthirsty _verd'e_ were enjoying the kriff out of the experience; Jaster just wanted it finished. 

Just seeing the _vod'e_ actually happy for once was a blessing all on its own. Anything that helped them relax and focus on something that wasn't war was a good thing in Jaster's book. 

"How is the war effort going?" Ben asked. It sounded natural. Genuine, even. Jaster also suspected that Ben was quite thoroughly done with thinking about his childhood. His expression was calm and polite, but he had an air of tiredness about him. 

Jaster had to wonder just how long and how hard Ben had worked on convincing himself that everything that had happened to him was inconsequential. He seemed weary from attempting to convince the rest of them not to be upset about it. 

Who had taught him this? Had no one ever been worried for him in the past? 

More questions that Jaster was afraid that he didn't want to find out the answers to. 

It was a shitty kriffing day when talk of Death Watch attacks was the more comfortable subject at hand.

"Better than I expected," Jaster said, following the change of subject. "A lot of that is thanks to you all."

The _vod'e_ preened a tiny bit, and Ben had a small smile on his face. 

Before Ben or Cody could ask more details, Jaster shook his head. "Tomorrow, _ad'e_. I'll give you the full briefing tomorrow. For now, we have dessert, and then you all should get some sleep."

At the mention of dessert, the _vod'e_ perked up even more.

It made Jaster smile. They were such good kids. 

\--

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

It had definitely not been an easy day, Waxer reflected a bit ruefully as he stripped his armour back off again. After their meal -- and the associated discussion -- their _buir_ and Jango had all but picked them up and shoved them towards their sleeping quarters with firm instructions to _rest_.

Tellingly, not even General Kenobi had objected.

It hadn't taken them long to get settled in their usual positions, casually touched and touching, comfort offered, accepted, and given.

Most of the others were asleep quickly, but Waxer found himself going over the eventful discussion they'd had during their meal.

Kenobi was still uneasy about accepting the plan Master Dooku had hinted he would support, and Waxer was pretty sure that was on account of the reservations he still had about the idea of having his younger self anywhere _near_ Mandalore. But the mere fact that the General had outright told their _buir_ and Jango exactly who the youngling was that Waxer and his _Vod'e_ wanted so badly to meet -- and from the sound of things, the little one seemed to want to meet them just as much -- spoke volumes for his trust in their still-new parent.

And _Force_ , the way the whole network of his _vod'e_ had karking _vibrated_ with excitement at the idea of getting what they wanted in this. That had felt amazing. He shifted just enough in their cozy tangle of limbs to tuck his nose into the nape of Boil's neck and didn't bother to suppress his smile. He knew the General had been able to feel it, too. He'd twitched minutely in surprise.

Even better, their _buir_ was backing their play.

Though he clearly wasn't all that comfortable with inviting yet more _jetiise_ to Sundari, he was willing to do it for them. Trusting them not to lead him into any kind of trap. In fact, _buir_ had agreed to do it without even really knowing the details of _what_ that play was, Waxer realised, and his eyes went wide. He'd seen that they wanted something, _badly_ , and simply _offered it to them_. 

Much like their General always had, when he could get away with it -- meaning: when there weren't additional tactical or strategic considerations, or paperwork hurdles preventing him. They'd never asked for much, and that was likely why the General went with it whenever they did. The Commander had occasionally simply handed him requisition forms, mixed in with the rest of the paperwork they dealt with, without saying a word, knowing that those silent requests would catch Kenobi's eye. Paint to retouch their armour and to christen the shinies with, anytime they could get their hands on some. Decks of sabacc cards and other small justifiable luxuries for entertainment during their hyperspace jumps. As much variety in their onboard food stores and rations as possible.

All of them tiny throwaway gestures, possible to disguise and explain away if needed, but meaningful all the same.

Kenobi had approved those requisitions without so much as batting an eye, then gone ahead and taken that tiny fragment of a hope of a plan about a klick further, adding in all manner of other supplies that they never would have dared ask for. Holonovels, educational modules he was fairly sure the _Vod'e_ hadn't seen -- which had ranged from sex manuals explicit enough to make the shinies blush to armour maintenance tips to historical battles that showcased interesting strategies, games other than sabacc that came from a wide variety of cultures across the galaxy, references on hazards that they might come across on their campaigns that weren't part of any standard survival course.

Kenobi shifted where he lay firmly tucked against the Commander's chest, making Waxer freeze, in body and in thought, then settled again with a quiet sigh. Their General had been putting up a good front, but he'd been tired the kriff out by that meditation just as much as they had. Waxer had seen the signs, subtle as they were.

Afterwards, after they'd finished drinking their water and settled in to recover, tangled together much like they were now, Kenobi'd had just the slightest tired pinch between his eyebrows and at the corners of his eyes. Nothing you'd notice unless you were actively on the lookout for it.

Worse, Waxer was sure beyond a doubt that their General had been blaming himself for accidentally sending the Commander reeling with those tiny -- but powerful -- scraps of memory he'd shared with them.

To a point, Waxer couldn't blame him for feeling that way, either. Those tiny scraps of memory had hit the network with all the force of an ion cannon, and made all of them wince even as they grabbed onto one another for support.

The Commander, though. He hadn't reached out for the network like the rest of them. No, he'd seemed to react like he'd grabbed a live power conduit -- transfixed, screaming, but unable to let go -- caught fast until Helix had shouted at him with all the united strength his _Vod'e_ could muster in support.

Of course, the pain and anguish couldn't have just stopped there, no. _That would have been too kriffing easy,_ Waxer thought bitterly, then quickly jerked himself back into the quiet space that was his alone in their network.

 _Don't wake them up with your worrying_ , he told himself. _They're already on edge, even with that victory_ buir _helped us score._

And it was no wonder that they were.

The way those scraps of shared memory had left their Commander feeling and acting like he had just after his surgery... Waxer swallowed hard. That had been worrying. The sharp echoes of pain and fear and longing their leader had felt had cut him to the bone, and realising that it was even worse than their _Vod_ was letting them see in that moment...

They'd all meant what they'd said. They were with their Commander to the bitter end, and there was no way they'd ever leave him on his own, if they could possibly avoid it. _Nu draar,_ Helix had told their wounded leader, and the rest of them had echoed it.

 _We're not leaving. Not on your life, Commander._

Taking a deeper hitching breath, Waxer shoved those thoughts aside. The longer he kept turning them over and over, the longer he'd stay awake and the tenser he'd get.

Think about happier things.

Like the Commander's face when he gets to see their General as a tiny cadet for the first time.

Maybe Crys could come up with a way to take a holo of it somehow even if the Commander was wearing his helmet. They'd have to try to make sure he wasn't. 

Oh, and they'd have to get the little cadet to try that kriffing amazing pudding stuff!

Waxer didn't bother trying to suppress the smile _that_ mental image brought to his face. Force, that would be a glorious moment.

And, if the youngling was going to come all the way out to the Mandalore system just for a visit, he'd surely be staying for at least a week or two. That meant they could get started on training him how to use a blaster. He would need to be able to defend himself, if the General's stories were any kind of indication.

He drifted off between one thought and the next, smothering his smile in his _riduur_ 's skin and barely noticing the transition.

Their little Cadet would get every kriffing advantage they could give him.

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

He'd felt a surprised shiver go through the network while he'd been visiting the two badly injured knights, and looked up, startled. 

His _Vod'e_ were all calm, though, scattered throughout the med bay as they visited the various rescued _mando'ad'e_.

Wait.

Ben looked around the room again, counting heads, and came up one short. Where the kriff had Helix got to?

That _Vod_ had something up his sleeve. Ben could just feel the plan coming together piece by piece, like a snare gradually tightening. What said plan was, he didn't know, but he suspected it had something to do with the distress Cody had been showing so much more, of late.

Well, as long as it helped his Commander, Ben decided, he could look the other way and pretend he knew nothing. Refocusing his attention on Knight Lara'guz, he looked at her critically in the Force.

She looked right back at him, and prodded at his shields a little. "You know, you don't have to do this, initiate," she told him, the words still tired and a little blurred. "Vokara's here."

"I'll make my own decisions on who deserves my help, thanks," he retorted, keeping the words light. "You got injured carrying out one of my plans. That makes fixing this," he gestured at her injuries, "in large part my responsibility."

A feminine voice he recognised and reflexively wanted to twitch away from interjected. "Initiate, you may feel responsible for what happened, but it's distinctly not your responsibility to 'fix it'."

Oh. Ben winced. She'd meant that Vokara was standing in the door, watching, not that the healer was on planet. He'd been distracted enough not to pay attention to his surroundings in more than a general kind of 'there are Force users around' kind of way.

He composed himself before he stood and turned to her. "Healer Che," he greeted her with a polite bow.

"You're only going to waste your own energies like that," Vokara told him sternly. "Instead of doing this, you should focus on that campaign against the Death Watch. I'm told you're the one who came up with the strategies the Mandalorians have been using."

"Most of that was Cody," he demurred, "and, as I see it, no energies spent on healing are ever _wasted_."

Vokara raised an eyebrow at him but didn't openly dispute that. "You should get back to your brothers," she said instead. "They're asking after you."

Taking that as the dismissal it was clearly meant to be, Ben made his escape. "I see. Thank you for passing on the message."

He gave her another bow, patted knight Lara'guz's hand, and slipped back out of the room.

He heard knight Lara'guz attempt to hide a chuckle as he left, and rolled his eyes at her where she couldn't see it. Sometimes he missed the instant respect he'd used to get as a known Master of the Order.

As soon as he came into view, stepping into the atrium of the medbay, his _Vod'e_ \-- all seven of them present this time, he noted -- looked over at him and the network conveyed their quiet relief. It was faint, but it was there. The lingering remnants of their need to have eyes on him at all times. Thankfully it was much reduced, compared to how things had been at the beginning, when they'd been dropped onto Korda VI with no warning and fewer supplies.

"Ready to go, General?" Boil asked him.

"When you are," Ben answered. "Healer Che kicked me out."

Longshot laughed quietly. "She's not the type to chitchat."

"Come on, _Vod'e_ ," Crys changed the topic, "let's get out of here. It's been too karking long since we did any proper drills, and I want to stretch my legs."

The lot of them perked up, including Helix and Cody.

"That sounds like a great idea," Helix agreed. "There should be enough space for us on the training yard at this time of day, even with the extra _verd'e_ around for the campaign."

Wooley and Longshot gave him pleading looks. "Can we do the flight training drill?"

"You'll need a warm up for that," Ben pointed out, very deliberately not saying no. He wasn't about to deny his men that little indulgence.

"That's easy enough," Waxer asserted, and they all nodded decisively.

It took them all of a moment to form up around him, all but hauling him along with them in their eagerness, to Ben's amusement, and make their way out to the training yard behind the Palace's central building. There were, as Helix had pointed out, only five _verd'e_ currently using the space. Their armour markings were familiar and though he recognised them as part of Headhunter Company, Ben didn't know their names.

The five _verd'e_ looked over when he and his _vod'e_ took over a corner of the area to do their stretches, then grinned at one another and dropped what they were doing to seat themselves in prime spots next to the open areas of the yard, where they could take holos to add to the ones already circulating.

The _Vod'e_ had discovered that the holos of their previous training sessions -- as well as those Ben had done with the Jedi masters -- had started making the rounds among the _verd'e_ that had joined them for this campaign against the Death Watch. In the days since the start of the campaign against Death Watch on Concordia, little snippets of HUD footage had appeared, as well, showcasing all of the Jedi Masters who'd taken part in the various missions. The clips featuring him and his troopers remained the most popular, though. Waxer had even overheard one of their _buir's_ men bragging about their skills to a visiting _verd_ and he'd all but preened like a pylat bird.

Looked like that trend was likely to continue.

For his part, Ben didn't mind it. That sort of thing was great press for them, got the _mando'ad'e_ used to the idea that they had a _jetii_ of their own, and he didn't have to do a thing to keep it going. He'd always loathed doing press junkets.

Their warm up finished, they started doing their flight training drill, as requested, and Ben didn't bother to fight the smile that tugged at his lips, seeing his _Vod'e_ indulging themselves in trying to casually outdo one another in their usual competitive fashion. It didn't take long for his focus to narrow down to them and the sheer glee he could feel making the network flood with light. In the air, weightless, the seven of them were carefree and laughing, enjoying the feeling of flying on its own merits.

After a few rounds of that, though, they tired of the game and insisted he join them more actively, pushing for a round blaster practice. It didn't take much persuasion, in the end.

He was getting soft, now that he could feel them so clearly in the network and in their Force bonds.

The reward of getting to feel their joy and pleasure in his mere presence and willingness to be around them, his willingness to take the place in their ranks that they'd offered him, was almost addictive. A hit without a come-down.

"General?" Cody prompted him, when he took a moment too long to ruminate on his own failings.

Ben pulled his 'sabre off its place at his hip and let himself fall into the ready stance they used as a silent 'go'. "Commander?" He returned in kind, and then they were off again.

Three rounds of blaster practice later, Ben decided he'd better call a halt. He could feel their energy levels starting to drop -- and that was just an odd feeling, really, reminding him of a prickle against his skin -- and knew it was on him to stop the practice. They wouldn't end things before he did. It was something of a point of pride among Ghost Company that they could keep up with their Jedi General, after all.

With a gentle touch to the network to accompany his movement, he slid back into the ready stance that would end their practice, and shut off his 'sabre, feeling its reassuring hum fade back into silence.

"We should clean up and find something to eat, _Vod'e_ ," he told them, and got an almost disbelieving look from Helix that turned into a nod.

"Shower first, I think," Waxer agreed obliquely.

"Definitely," Cody put in. "Let's go. I think there's dust under my armour plates."

"That's almost guaranteed, given how dry the ground and the air are in here," Boil pointed out. "Count your blessings; we're not on Tatooine or Hoth."

Chuckling, the rest of the men formed up around him and Cody, and let him lead the way back to their quarters for once. As they walked, Ben let himself enjoy the way the network was at rest around him, peaceful. As though they'd somehow just finished a meditation.

That thought almost stopped him in his tracks.

Of kriffing _course_. He should've thought to try moving meditation with them from the start.

Well, no matter. They could do that another time. After his _Vod'e_ had gotten a more solid grip on the more usual approach to meditation.

For the moment, they really did need to clean up. Their armour was filthy and so were they. A glance at his chrono suggested that by the time they were through getting themselves presentable again, their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ would be showing up to eat the late meal with them. That worked out well, all in all.

The eight of them trooped into the foyer of their borrowed quarters -- it would be a relief when they got their own back at last -- and started stripping off their armour on the spot, in an attempt to keep the dust somewhat contained rather than tracking it all the way through their apartments and into the 'freshers.

The moment he and Cody were down to their armourweave underlayers, the others gave them a shove in the network. _Get clean,_ it said wordlessly.

Not one to question a demand like that, Ben shrugged and left his armour plates stacked neatly where they were. He'd deal with them later. His armourweave underlayer would get rinsed off and could dry while he cleaned up in the 'fresher. The stuff was water resistant, after all, so the dust would get washed off by the water and only the surface would get wet.

He let his thoughts wander a bit as he washed himself, considering everything he'd seen and done that rotation, then set it all aside. There was little he could do about Helix's plotting, and if it truly was what he suspected -- an attempt to get Cody some support -- Ben wasn't about to get in the medic's way. Sith-hells, if Helix wanted his help for whatever he was trying to do, Ben would gladly give it.

When he shut off the shower, in the sudden ringing quiet, he could hear two of his _Vod'e_ talking quietly outside as they waited for their turn in the 'fresher.

"-- not sure how to help him," Waxer was saying quietly, concern radiating off him. "He's been carrying that memory for a long time."

"He has," Helix answered, and Ben nearly dropped his armourweave to the floor.

As if in answer to his thoughts, the galaxy was offering him an opportunity. Ben eyed the closed door of the 'fresher. How long could he get away with listening?

Deciding he'd take whatever he could get before they started to wonder what was taking him so long, he started the water in the sink running and pressed his ear shamelessly against the door. This could very well be critical to his own attempts to help Cody, and the _Vod'e_ didn't share secrets like this lightly. Nor did he feel at all comfortable asking them to. They might have offered him a place among them, but he wasn't a _Vod_. Not truly.

"So what can we do for him?" Waxer asked, sounding a bit like he already thought he knew the answer.

Helix paused for a beat. "Well, Healer Che pretty much just said to keep doing what we're doing, _Vod_. Absolutely zero judgement if he wants to say so much as a word about what happened... invite him to talk, let him know he _can_ , but don't push. Get him to check in, like we have been, and give him what he asks for."

There was that phrasing again. _Get him to check in_. It appeared his suspicions about that phrase were on the mark. 'Check in with me, _Vod_.'

Ben made a note to ask Helix about it. The wording clearly had a very specific meaning to his _Vod'e_. He could _feel_ that it did.

Waxer sighed. "So she can't help him directly?"

"Not unless he asks her to," Helix replied firmly. "There, again, we can suggest, but if we try to push him into it, it'd be counterproductive. In the meantime, she gave me a reading list. I haven't looked in _buir_ 's archives yet, but I'm pretty sure we can find most of the titles, if we decide we want them."

"Right. We can discuss that after we eat."

That sounded like they were done with the topic. Ben hurriedly shut off the water and pulled his mostly-dry armourweave back on.

He thought he got the briefest of knowing looks from Helix when he opened the door, but there was nothing in Helix's presence in the network to suggest he knew Ben had been listening in. 

A beat later Cody emerged, himself, and Helix peremptorily claimed that 'fresher without a single look back.

Waxer shook his head at their medic's impatience, then gave Ben a look that suggested he was taking too long again.

Realising he was still just standing in the 'fresher door, trying in vain to sort through his chaotically tumbling thoughts of possible action, consequence, and method, Ben shook off his slight reverie and stepped out of the way. "Sorry, Waxer, I got rather distracted for a moment, there," he said.

Waxer huffed at him, amused. "I'd noticed," he replied dryly, and then laid claim to the other 'fresher without another word.

Ben turned to face his Commander, and caught a hint of a speculative gleam in Cody's eyes. What that meant, he had no idea, but it was surprisingly attractive. And it was good to see more than a hint of the competent, secure, Cody he was used to reappear.

"So," he said, trying to distract them both. "What do you think _buir_ will bring us to eat tonight?"

He'd have to go hunt down those texts Helix had mentioned in the morning.


	28. Chapter 28

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

He could tell Helix hadn't strictly _planned_ to spend the morning in the archives, but there was also no way their medic was going to tell their General he couldn't help them find what they were after.

The walk from their quarters to the archives, located on the far side of the central building, didn't take them long to make. The moment they were in the space, it was a bit like stepping into another world. The archives were quiet -- hushed and a little dusty, but calm in a way he wasn't sure he'd felt before -- and the General seemed to relax the moment he felt that tranquility.

"So what are we looking for?" Kenobi prompted Helix. "Most of _buir_ 's collection tends towards military histories, unsurprisingly."

Helix caught his eyes. Waxer shrugged. There was no way around it. "Well," he started, then hesitated, debating how much to say, and got Kenobi's full attention. Taking the plunge, knowing that the moment either of them said any of the titles of the chips out loud, what they were planning would be blindingly obvious, Waxer wanted to sigh. "We're worried about the Commander, and Healer Che suggested we find some texts that will tell us how to help him, since she can't stay."

Kenobi nodded, as though he'd expected to hear that, and waited them out until Helix listed off some of the titles they'd been given. "Hm. Most of those texts you're far more likely to find in a Jedi archive than this one," he commented.

Waxer felt his shoulders slump a little. "I was afraid of that," he muttered. "So now what, sir?"

"Now we look for them anyway -- who knows, we might get lucky -- and if not, we might find something similar that was written by a _mando'ad_ healer," the General replied easily, not daunted by the task at all.

Right. He _liked_ this sort of thing.

Helix surveyed the many stacks of datapad chips surrounding them. "So how do we do that, exactly?" He asked. "I'm familiar with how archives work, but I've got no idea how this one is organised."

Without another word, the General turned to a small terminal, tucked away in a corner where Waxer hadn't immediately spotted it, and started typing. "Well, first, we'll try a simple search For those titles and authors on your list. Next layer is a simple keyword search. And if that doesn't work, we'll dig through the stacks that contain the topics you're interested in. Manually, if we have to."

Waxer groaned. "That'll take _hours_."

"So be it," Helix answered, a look of determination on his face. "Whatever we find will be helpful, given that Healer Che won't be able to linger here for more than a few more days. She said it would be two weeks, at the outside."

General Kenobi gave him half-smile as he finished typing, and Waxer could feel the strength of his approval over their bond. "Well, only one of those titles is directly available," he said and pointed to the screen. "Based on the information listed in the directory it should be just over there. Second stack to your left and about halfway up. The number is 5628.572."

Once Helix had the chip in hand, he quickly slotted it into his datapad and copied it into memory. Their medic would be giving them a private briefing on this material at some point, Waxer was certain. As he watched Helix carefully place the chip back in the stack, he asked, "Anything else relevant, here?"

Kenobi listed off a few other numbers, and Helix diligently made himself copies of those too. 

Once they were through, the General turned to them, and said, "I know you won't give me any details, Helix, and I'm not going to ask for them. But if _any_ of you needs help I can provide, it's yours. You're doing this for Cody, and trying to do it discreetly, which I can appreciate, but you must know that I'll support you fully in this. So would _buir_ and Jango."

Helix took a breath and nodded. "We know, sir, and all of us appreciate that. It's just... the Commander has an even tougher time reaching out to someone who isn't a _Vod_ than most of us do. I've been fighting just to get him back into a proper network for years. Now that it's finally happened, I intend to take advantage of it." 

The General pointed at the datapad with his chin. "Hence the light reading."

"It could also be useful for other situations," Waxer pointed out. "Odds are good we'll come across more hurt _mando'ad'e_ as we continue taking out the Death Watch and that more than a few of them will need a mind healer."

The General's expression went hard. "Unfortunately, I fear you're entirely correct about that," he said and frowned.

"All of you _jetiise_ learn the basics of Force healing for emergencies," Helix added, and Waxer could almost feel him going in for the kill. "In my considered opinion, you should also add the basics of mind healing to that curriculum, based on recent events." 

Kenobi nodded thoughtfully. "That's a thought you should present to Masters Koon and Dooku. It would certainly have been helpful on this campaign, and several others I can think of off the cuff. Our campaign on Ryloth in particular. They might well agree with you and take it up with the Council."

A surge of disappointment came over the network from their remaining five _Vod'e_ , making them all jerk upright, surprised.

"What the kriff was that all about?" Helix muttered, even as he reached out over the network.

Waxer let him take the lead -- the Commander always had liked Helix best, anyway -- and waited. Kenobi, suddenly tense and worried, did the same.

A beat later, Helix relaxed. "Bunch of _di'kut'e_ ," he grumbled, then rolled his eyes. "They went off to talk to someone -- General _Buir_ , I suspect -- and heard something that made them all sad."

Then a wash of mingled relief and anticipation followed the disappointment.

Waxer had a feeling he knew what his _Vod'e_ were talking to Master Plo about. There was really only a limited number of topics that could make his _Vod'e_ all react in unison, and their General was one of them. The cadet version of him was liable to become another, if he wasn't already. Kenobi was watching him and Helix carefully, clearly trying to work out what was going on.

"Well, whatever he said to make them sad, he fixed it," Waxer said after a beat. "Kark, we probably missed out on a hug."

Helix actually scowled. "That's just not karking fair."

The General huffed, amused, and suggested, "You could go claim a hug from him later."

"I just might," Helix said, and Waxer nodded. Hugs from General _Buir_ were not a thing to be given up lightly.

Waxer prodded at his _riduur_ over the network, careful to keep his request in the private little space they'd carved for themselves, and got back a flash of a memory. It was clearly a scene that had recently transpired, and there were some impressions of thought and memory to go with it; _MasterPlo-worriedaboutus_ , _Intel-Cadet-Council_ , and _talklater_.

He carefully hid most of his excitement at the thought that the Commander -- that sneaky kriffing bastard -- had been laying the groundwork for their campaign to get the Cadet to come visit them. "I think I might join you," he told their medic. "General _Buir_ gives the best hugs."

"Sometimes I have to wonder about you lot and your priorities," Kenobi teased them, his voice fond.

"Our priorities are fine, General," Helix replied loftily, and turned pointedly toward the archive door. "The Commander said Wooley would have his first lesson from Ardanna after the noon meal. Do you want to be there? The others want to watch and intend to ask her if she'll allow it."

The General eyed him shrewdly, then shrugged. "Give me copies of those texts you loaded onto your datapad. If I get bored, I'll read through them."

Implied was his continued active support for their efforts to help the Commander, and his willingness to keep it discreet. The Commander had very rarely ever shown any kind of interest for the things Kenobi stored on his datapads, unless they were requisition forms.

Helix nodded. "Done and done."

"Let's get going, then," Waxer suggested, considering their next move with respect to the Council.

If he were the Commander, he'd start out by comming Master Windu... 

And prying the comm frequencies of a few other Councilors out of Master Plo.

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

The conversation between Helix and Waxer that he'd overheard last rotation had gotten him thinking about the whole set of issues surrounding their Force bonds with General Kenobi and with each other.

And there was a lot to think about.

When he'd talked to General _Buir_ about the topic for the first time, indirectly, he'd tried to get the Master to bring a Jedi mind healer to Mandalore for their General's sake. But after what they'd heard Kenobi say, Cody was sure their stubborn _jetii_ wouldn't take her up on anything she offered. It was too soon.

But on the other hand, Kenobi clearly needed some kind of support.

Support which he and his _Vod'e_ currently couldn't give their General. The lot of them were fighting to stabilise themselves, and didn't have the wherewithal to also stabilise their General on top of that.

No matter that Helix clearly _wanted_ to. The tenor of that discussion he'd shamelessly eavesdropped on had definitely held a world of concern for Kenobi, and Cody was sure Helix was plotting something. But until the seven of them were firmly planted on their feet, there wasn't much they could do.

If only because Kenobi wouldn't _let_ them. Their General was too kriffing used to taking care of others before himself and sacrificing his own health in the process, more often than not.

He'd prodded at the issue for nearly an hour, after their late meal, trying to find a good solution to it and not really seeing one that would work if the General wouldn't reach out for the support he'd so carefully arranged with General Plo to procure.

Their early meal had brought with it some more conversation that led them in the right direction, but still didn't quite offer a true fix for the problem of their problem. Of course, at some point in those few moments Cody hadn't been present to listen in, himself, General Kenobi had overheard Helix and Waxer talking about finding some kind of texts in their _buir_ 's archives after their meal.

Somewhat predictably, Kenobi had decided he would help them look for whatever it was and sent the rest of them off to get Wooley settled in with Ardanna. Jango and their _buir_ had simply laughed and wished them all luck.

Standing in Wooley's new workshop, freshly set up according to his wishes under Ardanna's supervision, Cody looked around at his _Vod'e_ and wanted to sigh, seeing the determined looks on their faces. He could tell he was in for an interrogation or some kind of very karking serious discussion the moment they had some privacy.

The task of arranging the workshop to their _Vod_ 's satisfaction had taken them all of half an hour, since they didn't have to move Wooley into new quarters -- as would normally have been expected of a newly apprenticed armourer -- or do anything much beyond helping him set up what would become his workbench and tool racks. The only reason it had taken that long had been the fact that General _Buir_ had shown up to speak to Ardanna and then to them.

General _Buir_ had appeared silently, as was his wont -- all _jetiise_ seemed to move as quietly as they could, whispering through the world on light footsteps -- and waited in the doorway of Wooley's workshop until they all turned to him, curious.

"It is good to see you enjoying pursuits beyond fighting, younglings," he said gravely, teasing lightly and letting them hear his smile. "Should you be willing, I would like to speak to you all privately, in my quarters."

His men had exchanged looks, and then nodded before they'd turned to him, the network resonating with their acceptance of the request without the need for them to speak a word.

"Certainly, Master Plo," Cody answered for them. "When?"

"Take what time you require to finish your task here. When you are ready, I shall be waiting," he answered, in the calm measured way that he had.

"We're finished now," Wooley told him, "provided Ardanna doesn't have anything more for us."

Ardanna, who'd come up to stand behind Plo and shamelessly listen in, shook her head. "Not at the moment, though I will expect you back here after the noon meal for a first lesson, apprentice."

Cody eyed Master Plo briefly. This was an opportunity not to be missed; they didn't have nearly enough intel on the Cadet. He turned to Ardanna. "If the General comes by looking for us, please tell him where we are," he requested.

She grinned back at him, seeing the ploy for what it was. "Of course, little commander," she agreed, "but I suspect he'll comm you first."

Master Plo nodded. "Just so. Come, younglings, I sense that we have much to speak about."

A quick farewell to Ardanna, and a short jaunt through the palace corridors later, they were settling on the sofa in the guest quarters Master Plo was sharing with Master Dooku, who was currently occupied elsewhere. Probably playing liaison with the council again.

"You have many questions for me, do you not," Master Plo said as he took his place in the comfortable chair placed opposite them.

"We do," Cody agreed, "but they can wait. What was it you wanted to speak to us about?"

"Simply put, I've spoken to Healer Che about it," Master Plo told them, "and I wanted to explicitly extend the offer of her services to you. When last you and I talked, Cody, we danced around the topic, and I wished to be sure it was clearly stated that the eight of you have the right to what help we can offer, should you wish it."

Longshot looked down at his clasped hands, then back up at General _Buir_. "The _mando'ad'e_ we rescued have been taking up so much of Healer Che's energies, that we weren't sure whether that would be too much," he said carefully. "We've seen just how badly intense use of the Force can exhaust even a Jedi Master."

General _Buir_ accepted that without so much as a twitch. "That is very thoughtful of you, younglings, and very true. But we do not wish to see you miss out on assistance that is yours for the taking, either. If you wish it, speak to Healer Che and she will make certain that she is prepared to help in whatever way you need."

"Understood, sir," Cody agreed, knowing it was what his men all wanted him to say.

He still wasn't sure whether _he_ wanted to speak to anyone about the things lurking in his head -- even a mind healer -- but there was a good chance that in doing so he could get them all back on track, and he knew it.

Master Plo leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and tangling his clawed fingers comfortably together. "Now, what was it you wished to ask me?"

Crys and Boil shared a look, before Boil blurted out, "We were hoping you could tell us more about that youngling Master Dooku mentioned to us. He said there was an Obi-Wan Kenobi at the Temple, and that he wanted to meet us."

That got them a reaction that looked like stunned surprise, and Cody was fairly sure Master Dooku would get questioned about this later. But then the expression eased and Master Plo chuckled. 

"Ahhhh," he rumbled. "That little one is quite precocious. I do not know him well, but my impression is of a very loving and very enthusiastic crèchling. Master Sifo-Dyas is quite fond of him already, for all that their acquaintance has been perhaps a few weeks long, and the youngling seems to be well on his way to winning over Master Windu, as well."

Somehow, Cody wasn't surprised by that in the least. His General always had been amazingly good at being likeable. Even Ventress had seemed to tolerate him, in her own backwards sort of way, and even seek him out at times.

"Master Dooku said the youngling has been dreaming about us," Wooley put in. "Is that true?"

"That I cannot say for certain," General _Buir_ told them. "Visions are very private things, and, while the youngling may share them with Master Sifo-Dyas, neither of them has told me about the things the Initiate has Seen. But it does seem likely, yes. Little Obi-Wan seems to have the same gift for Foresight that Master Sifo-Dyas does, albeit somewhat less intensely."

Cody nodded, slotting that information away. It made sense that the Cadet and the General would share the same abilities. "Do you think the Council will allow him to come here, as Master Dooku was hinting?"

Master Plo sat up straighter. "Did he now? Hrm."

Clearly, Master Dooku hadn't discussed his play to win their trust with his superior. Cody almost wished he could be present for the conversation that move would result in, next time the two _jetiise_ had enough privacy. It would almost certainly be a relentless grilling. A polite one, knowing Master Koon, but a grilling nonetheless.

The master _jetii_ paused and thought his response over, then shrugged. "That I also could not say. The Jedi Council has a habit of... discussing things in rather more detail than is usually necessary, and sometimes becomes a bit too mired in those details to make a decision quickly. Moreover, to allow a crèchling to travel so far from Coruscant, even with the supervision of a Jedi Master, is not an option that will find favour with many of the Councilors." 

Cody felt his _Vod'e_ slump all around him in the network, their disappointment clear to read. Farther afield, he felt the reaction get the attention of their last three _Vod'e_ , and knew that Kenobi would seek them out. Probably soon, unless Helix and Waxer could distract him.

Helix reached out to him, with a wordless question, and Cody reached back with a reassurance. _Nothing bad,_ he tried to say, without broadcasting the feelings-words-impressions to anyone else. _Just trying to get some intel._

"However," Master Plo went on, distracting him and his _Vod'e_ from the proddings of their network, "if he truly has been having Force visions of meeting you, I personally see no harm in allowing him to fulfill that prediction. It would surely make him very happy, and might very well set him on the path he is meant to follow."

That made the network brighten again, and Cody couldn't quite hold back the small smile that tugged at his lips in response. "Well, we'd certainly like to meet him," he replied, pointedly ignoring the way his men all but rolled their eyes at him.

"You're picking up the General's habit of understating everything, Commander," Wooley told him.

The others nodded.

A bit cheekily, Boil added, "Don't. Having one of you two doing that is bad enough, sir."

General _Buir_ chuckled. "I rather suspect he would find a warm welcome, here, now that the Death Watch are being actively dealt with," he said, not commenting on the byplay. "Between the Mandalorian tendency to treat their younglings with care, and your own habit of helping all you meet, he would be quite safe on planet, I'm sure. It is more the trip he would have to make to get here that concerns me."

"If that's a problem, we'll come to Coruscant and escort him back here," Cody said firmly, feeling the network back him up every inch of the way.

"I have no doubt that you would," Master Plo agreed, "but you must not borrow trouble. First, know what problem you must solve. Then take considered action. Before you make plans to travel so far, you must find out whether it is needful."

Cody couldn't be completely certain of it, but he thought perhaps those words hinted that Master Plo would support them and bring up their willingness to make the trip, if it came down to a discussion. 

Crys and Longshot made thoughtful faces. "Yes, General _Buir_ ," the pair said, almost perfectly in unison.

In any case, Cody had to admit, it was sound advice. Sometimes it was easy to get lost in trying to plan every imaginable contingency, and then contingencies for those contingencies.

"In the meantime," the Jedi Master suggested, "the five of you should consider getting back to whatever duties you currently have. I don't doubt that the _Mand'alor_ will call on you for anything he can as long as it will not upset his council further." 

"We don't strictly have duties, but you're right; he already does," Cody said quietly. "It just feels like we could do so much more, if we were allowed to take the field."

"A competent warrior knows his skills. A wise one knows when not to use them, and let others assist him in resolving a problem," Master Plo reminded him gently. "Not all fights are yours to take up, youngling, nor is every ill your responsibility to set right. There are others who would take up those quests alongside you. Do not forget that. Now, I'm afraid that I must bring this conversation to a conclusion. You, perhaps, have no official duties, but unfortunately I must take part in a Council meeting presently."

Cody stood and felt his _Vod'e_ do the same. "Of course, sir," he said and offered a polite nod in place of a salute or a bow. "And, thank you. For everything."

Master Plo stood too, and spread his arms just a little as though he was offering them a hug. His men were immediately on their feet and wrapping their arms around the Jedi Master without hesitation. Cody followed suit, not wanting to be left out.

After a few seconds, General _Buir_ added, "It is my pleasure, Cody, and I thank you and your _vod'e_ in turn for helping us make this campaign possible to win with so few losses. We of the Jedi are well aware that much of that is your doing."

And then they'd found themselves standing out in the corridor, confronted with a chance to talk amongst themselves without General Kenobi present. Such moments were a rarity these days. All of them knew that, and Cody could feel that none of the men was going to let the chance pass them by.

The four of his _Vod'e_ that had accompanied him to take part in the conversation with Master Plo waited just long enough for them to all get back inside their borrowed sleeping quarters, and then started stating their opinions.

"We're not going to force the issue," Wooley said after a silent moment had passed, wherein they'd all just looked at one another, "but we think you should take General _Buir_ up on his offer, Commander."

Longshot nodded, fully in agreement. "We can't help the General if we're unstable ourselves," he said quietly, echoing Cody's earlier thoughts eerily closely.

"And we want to make sure you have the support you need, too, _Vod_ ," Boil put in. "Even when you're not thinking about whatever it was that happened, we can feel it colouring the network and everything you do."

Crys stepped in close to put a hand on Cody's shoulder. "If you won't confide in us or the General because you don't want those bad memories lingering in the network, then talk to Healer Che. An outside perspective could be helpful anyway."

Cod let his head hang briefly, feeling the weight of their trust and worry, then steeled himself and straightened again. He could and _would_ do much for his _Vod'e_. He'd already taken the leap and allowed himself to get pulled into their network, and then also allowed himself to complete that Force bond with the General.

Now he owed it to them to get himself into a state where he wouldn't be forcing them to worry about him constantly. They'd already given him so much.

 _Keep moving,_ Helix's words seemed to echo in his ears again.

 _Can't forget the follow through,_ Cody realised.

 _Got to stick the landing,_ his _Vod'e_ agreed.

They were his _Vod'e_ , and it was his duty as Marshal Commander to lead them. To protect them.

From his own memories if need be.

Taking a steadying breath, he nodded, a little shakily. "You might be right about that. I'll think it over."

He wasn't going to promise them anything outright. Cody knew better than to do that. 

If he was going to even attempt to follow through on something like this, he would have to take the time to get used to the idea of baring himself like that to anyone who wasn't a _Vod_. Just the thought made him twitchy and uneasy. Doing something like that went against the grain.

Not just for him, but for any _Vod_.

Baring themselves like that to someone who wasn't a clone, who didn't understand them the way another _Vod_ would, who didn't know their culture and the common triggers, who didn't have the context to know that saying a word about this sort of thing could easily mean being decommissioned...

Cody had to fight back a wince, even as his network rose up and wrapped itself around him, offering comfort and stability.

"We know it won't be easy, _Vod_ ," Boil said quietly. "But we're not leaving you behind, and we won't stand by and watch you bleed. _Nu draar, al'verde._ The six of us intend to have your back. No matter what battle you're fighting. If we had the option of calling in another of our medics, we'd do it, but we don't have that option. A _jetii_ mind healer is the next best thing."

"I know." Cody answered and swallowed around the way his unease tried to choke him. "I know, _Vod_."

Kriff. This would be a hard slog to victory. Probably harder than any ground campaign he'd ever taken part in. He wasn't looking forward to it whatsoever.

But he trusted his men with more than just his life. Helix had seen him at his best and his worst, and might be too close to the problem to offer a wholly unbiased opinion, but Cody knew he was right. This was a problem that he'd been chipping away at on his own for a couple of years now without making much progress.

As much as it grated, he needed that outside perspective and some professional advice and he knew it.

\--- POV: Plo Koon ---

Plo did one last sweep of his fighter, letting the Force guide him. He didn't think that he'd taken any unfortunate hits in the last battle, but he liked this ship a great deal. Yes, he wanted it to be functional; that was important for future use. But he also wanted it to be _nice_. A bit of vanity on his part, perhaps, but Jedi were allowed to care for things. He would destroy the ship in an instant if it meant saving lives, so he knew that he hadn't strayed into unhealthy attachment. 

The check on his ship was also something of a misdirect. He wanted to talk to the High Council, and he wanted to do it privately. Plo trusted the _Mand'alor_ to an extent, and he trusted Master Dooku and Master Jinn even more. 

However, some subjects were for the High Council only. Better to have those conversations in a secure place. 

When he was done checking over his fighter, he continued on to the small transport ship that the other Jedi had traveled in. If asked, he could say that he was doing routine maintenance. It wouldn't even be a lie, since he did prefer to routinely check for listening devices. 

He didn't expect that there would be any; he verified that just in case.

Once done, Plo settled into the main lounging room of the transport ship. He would have used the cockpit of his fighter, but he didn't want it to be quite so obvious that he was in a holo conference. 

The holo projected the images of the rest of the High Council members around him. 

"Master Plo," the tiny holo of Master Yoda said with a nod. "Good to see you, it is. What news have you of your mission?"

Plo bowed to them. 

"It goes… unsettlingly well, masters," he said. He shifted in his seat to make himself more comfortable. Or perhaps to settle the unease that had taken hold of him in the past few weeks.

"A strange choice of words," Master Windu said.

"More opposition, you expected?" Master Yaddle asked.

Plo shook his head. "No, it's not that. The Death Watch is a problem, and Master Sifo-Dyas was wise to advise us to leave promptly to extend our aid." Master Sifo-Dyas nodded to him. "I do not think the _Mand'alor_ , with what resources he had available, would have been able to promptly deal with this issue. And everything we've seen so far indicates that Death Watch _had_ planned to entrench themselves, indulging only in insurgent tactics until they had weakened the local government enough for a full scale take over. The death toll would have been… impressive."

"What is the issue, then?" Master Ki-Adi-Mundi asked. 

Plo took a moment to organize his thoughts. 

"The issue is two-fold," he said finally. "First, there are the younglings. Young Ben and his _vod'e_ are terrifyingly competent."

"We know this," Master Windu said, though there wasn't a hint of impatience in his voice.

Plo shook his head. "No, you know that they are skilled. I am telling you that Ben and Cody are finer military minds than nearly anyone I have ever met. They are used to working together to organize large scale military campaigns. They are used to being listened to. Master Dooku is quite right; they have fought wars before."

Several of the Council members exchanged glances. Even without being physically present to feel their unease in the Force, Plo could see how unwelcome that news was.

"Do you have any further information on who Ben's master is?" Ki-Ad-Mundi asked.

"Yes and no." Plo folded his hands together. "As unbelievable as the concept of those younglings being time travelers from the future sounds, I have seen nothing to dispute it, and a great deal of circumstantial evidence to support it. I cannot be certain, but I am inclined to believe it. And them."

That got him several looks of heavy scepticism. Indeed, when Master Windu’s report had relayed that information, they’d all viewed it with a heavy dose of suspicion. _Time travel_ was a difficult story to swallow, especially when simple child abuse was more likely, and sadly quite common. 

Master Windu simply nodded. He hadn’t yet put forth his opinion other than to advise them all to entertain every possibility.

Interestingly, Master Sifo-Dyas betrayed no surprise at all at Plo’s statement. Perhaps he’d already seen something in his own visions. Master Yaddle looked impassive, but she often kept her own council. 

"You think this is actually a possibility?" Master Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, looking at Master Windu.

"With the Force, all things are possible," Yoda said musingly. Judging by the twitch of his ears, Plo wasn't sure the ancient master really bought the story. 

"I saw nothing that would prove or disprove the theory," Master Windu said. "Ben is nearly unparalleled in his knowledge and skill, but… looks can be deceiving. It's possible that he isn't as human as he looks."

"Your report stated that you couldn't sense any Darkness in him," Master Even Piell stated.

"True. The report also said that Ben's shielding was incredibly impressive and that he was able to keep his inner mind out of even shared meditations," Master Windu said evenly. "If he's skilled enough to do that, it stands to reason that he could be skilled enough to hide taint of the Dark Side or mental conditioning. I recommended that Master Dooku stay to further monitor the situation."

It was very true that Ben had impressive mental shields. Plo had seen that during the shielding meditation with the _vod'e_. During that meditation, Ben had dropped all of those shields to help his brothers and to rebuild his defenses from scratch. 

"I have meditated with young Ben," Plo said. "I have felt him unguarded in the Force. There is no Darkness in him. Sorrow and pain, yes. Enough for two lifetimes. But nothing that has shaken his hold on the Light."

This information would help ease the minds of the Council, and offered no breach of privacy.

The knowledge of Ben's bonds to his _vod'e_ was another matter. That had only been shared with Plo under some amount of duress, and was clearly a personal matter for them. 

If Ben had been part of the Order, Plo might have brought it up. A single individual with so many bonds would be something the Council would have _opinions_ on. Not that Plo would agree with most of them. He was more than a Master Jedi; he was a Baran Do Sage. His people had a slightly different outlook on the Force.

The Baran Do Sages were far more community minded than those Jedi raised in the Temple on Coruscant. They were advisors to their people, and seers of the future. They often took an active role in governance and social support systems, while the Jedi of the main Temple maintained a bit more distance. Given the massive difference in the number of people that the main Temple tended to, this made sense. Baran Do Sages had only one world to minister to; the Jedi of the main Temple worked to bring peace and Light to the whole galaxy. This shift of priorities between the groups did mean that they tended to have different viewpoints as well, particularly on an individual’s involvement with groups outside the Order. 

A group of Force bonded individuals would not have been rejected out of hand by the Baran Do Sages. Many species were Force sensitive and created such bonds; it was the way of the Force. It was natural. 

Plo’s own people were known to occasionally have spontaneously created Force bonds. A group of individuals bonded by choice rather than the will of the Force might raise some concerns. The Sages might have insisted on some type of counseling for the group, since baseline humans were not accustomed to sharing so much of themselves with others. But Ben and his _vod'e_ wouldn't have been censured.

That would not be the case for the main Temple.

For many years now, Master Yoda had very adamantly guided the Jedi of the main Temple to look past all attachment. As Master Yoda was Grandmaster of the Order, Plo had not thought it his place to naysay that. He did not support it, either. 

As a Baran Do Sage, Plo felt no particular concern over those younglings having weak Force bonds to each other. Or, more accurately, he was concerned for them merely because they were young and might be in need of guidance. He didn't feel that they were in danger of Falling. 

As a High Councilor, Plo would have been obligated to inform the High Council of that which could be considered heresy by their interpretation of the Code. At the very least, the Council would have wanted to know about it and take some action to discern if such bonds were a threat to the Jedi involved. Ben would have had to undergo vigorous investigation to determine how deeply his attachment ran. There was every chance that the High Council would have encouraged him to lessen or even break those bonds.

If Ben were officially part of the Order.

Which he was not.

Plo was very content to keep his silence on this subject and allow the younglings the privacy that they'd clearly desired. 

"From all that I have seen it seems likely to me that their story is true,” Plo reiterated. “They are not simply skilled. They have the feel of long experience. The Force whispers of the truth of what they are, and there is no hint of falsehood about them.” He let the Council digest this information for a moment before moving on to the next relevant subject. “Ben has informed us that his Master is dead. I sensed no dishonesty in that statement. But if he and his _vod'e_ are actually from the future, then it is quite likely that his Master is still alive."

"Did he mention how far ahead they were sent from?" Master Windu asked.

Plo shook his head. "He and the _vod'e_ seem to know me, which leads me to believe that their future is in my lifetime. Since one of my people who is well attuned to the Force can live for several centuries, that's not saying much. Though..." 

He thought back to some of the things that Master Dooku had said as well as some of the reactions that the _vod'e_ had to Master Jinn and Padawan Xanatos.

Then he thought about the youngling that Master Sifo-Dyas had held in his arms as Plo and Master Dooku had departed from Coruscant. Obi-Wan Kenobi, who felt so very similar to Ben and yet incredibly different. The Council had already considered the idea that they might be related. Now Plo had to wonder if there wasn't something more to it.

"...Were I to guess," Plo continued. "I would say that they are likely from sometime in the next several decades. It would only be a guess, though."

The rest of the Council looked uneasily at each other. Among outsiders, those on the Council alway strove to look as impassive as possible. Oftentimes they allowed themselves a bit more latitude when they were alone. As much as they tended to disagree with one another, they were at least nominally a team working for the betterment of the Order. 

"Why would the Force allow such a thing to happen? The Force has always expressed itself in visions before now," Master Even Piell said. There was a frown on his scarred face. The diminutive master was often brusque; Plo had expected such a response from him.

Master Sifo-Dyas twitched, just the tiniest bit. He was good friends with Master Dooku and was mentoring that initiate. He no doubt had as good a line on information about this situation as Plo himself did. Plo was also well aware of just how often the Council chose to ignore Master Sifo-Dyas's visions.

"Based on what I have observed from the younglings," Plo said, "if they are from our future, then that time is a grim place indeed. This is the other half of what disturbs me so about this situation."

That got the Council's attention.

"Ben and Cody are master strategists, but their methods are..." he shook his head. "Stunningly effective and..." The words wouldn't come. "They weaponize the knights at their disposal in a way I have _never_ seen before."

"What?" Master Windu asked, his voice low and unhappy.

Plo shook his head again. "They are as cautious as I could ever hope for with the lives under their command. It is clear to me that they are entrenched in the Light and that they value every single sentient on the battlefield. But they also know exactly what the strengths and weaknesses of the Jedi are and precisely how to use them to their best advantage with a group of non-Force sensitive warriors. They have contingency plans for _everything_. Including what to do if Dark Force users show up to fight. They field the Jedi like additional warriors, rather than the diplomats and peacekeepers we usually are."

He sat silent for a moment, deeply unnerved. 

"I have never seen anything like it," he concluded. "I believe it further supports the theory that they are from a Darker future. One we should all work to avoid. Jedi were not meant to be soldiers. We were not made for war, as Ben and his _vod'e_ so clearly are."

Silence reigned as the rest of the Council digested this. 

"Confided in you, they have?" Master Yoda asked. 

Plo took a deep breath. "Some. Very little. They seem to trust me for reasons I cannot explain. They trust so very few people. I think... I think that if they are from the future, then the Force returned to them their childhoods for a reason. Each one of them is battle weary. They are of the Light, I am sure, but they are brittle and tired. I think that the Force sent them here to be healed as much as it sent them here to prevent some future horror."

"It seems unlikely," Master Ki-Adi-Mundi said quietly. There was a note of speculation in his voice.

"It doesn't actually change our response very much," Master Windu added. "Whether they are from the future or not, we still need to find out who trained them and why. Whether that means we move to address a current threat or a future one is only a matter of urgency."

There were nods all around.

"I do believe that Ben was at some point Temple trained," Plo continued. 

"That was also my assessment," Master Windu said with a nod.

"I also believe that Ben's padawanship was terribly mismanaged. I have almost no details, but I have spoken to Healer Che about offering her services as a Mind Healer to him. And his _vod'e_. We cannot pry into what they might discuss if Ben does decide to pursue treatment, but I think it would be good for him, if it were to happen. Regardless of whatever else might be true about his situation."

"If he's lying and deranged, a Mind Healer would pick that up," Master Even Piell said.

Plo nodded. "And if he is traumatized in other ways, a Mind Healer would be able to help with that, too. It is a win-win situation."

"Assuming that go to the healer, he does." Master Yoda's wrinkled face twisted into a frown. 

"Ben's _vod'e_ are worried for him. I believe that even if he doesn't speak with Healer Che, his brothers will contrive a way to find him the help that he needs." Plo was more than certain of it. 

He raised his hands in something like a shrug. 

"I think that for now we have done all we can do," he said. "I agree with Master Dooku's request to stay here on Mandalore to continue working with Ben. The Force tells me that it will be important. For several reasons."

Master Yoda hummed. "How fare our knights?" he asked.

"They are doing well. Knight Xen and Knight Lara'guz should both be ready for transport to Coruscant within the week. If nothing else, their brave actions have earned the Jedi Order a great deal of good will with the Mandalorians."

Master Fisto snorted. "Considering the starting point, that's not saying much. Anything is an improvement from outright hatred."

Plo had to agree. Mandalorians held a grudge for a ridiculously long time. 

"Then good, it is, that we have intervened," Master Yaddle said, finally speaking up. "Healing, we should have, all of us."

Plo tilted his head in surprise. It was true, the Jedi and the Mandalorians had been on poor terms since the fall of the Old Republic. War tended to do that. 

"Perhaps you're right, Master Yaddle," Master Windu said thoughtfully. "We spend so much of our time focusing on being peacekeepers for the rest of the galaxy that it's easy to overlook the rifts that have formed between us and others. Nine hundred years is long enough to be estranged."

"Maybe this will bring about more good than we expected," Master Adi Gallia said quietly. 

"How much longer do you think you will be on Mandalore?" Master Windu asked.

"I am uncertain, but not more than a couple of weeks, I think," Plo said. "Death Watch has been discovered to kidnap and enslave children, taken from other clans and those who would oppose them. This offends the Mandalorians on a very personal level; they cherish children, all children, to an impressive degree. The _Mand'alor_ has found himself with more support than he expected. Between that, our aid, and young Ben and Cody's strategies, Death Watch has found itself very soundly outmaneuvered."

There was a thoughtful silence. 

"Thank you for your report, we do," Master Yoda said. "Watch. Learn. Report back to us again, you will."

Plo nodded, and proceeded to listen to all the other matters that were on the docket for consideration by the Council. As the meeting proceeded, he kept a small portion of his mind working on the mystery of Ben and his _vod'e_. 

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

His _Vod'e_ were tense.

It was their first Remembrance Day since they'd landed in the past. The first they'd felt secure enough to hold, and the first they had the time for.

Normally the _Vod'e_ said their Remembrances once a month, barring ground campaigns that threw their schedule off, but it had been nearly two and a half since their last one, and Ben had felt the way the lack had started to itch under their skins. 

Remembrances, in the Mandalorian tradition, were meant to be said daily, but that simply wasn't practicable in the GAR. It took the men the better part of a full rotation to finish their ritual, even with him helping smooth the way. It simply wasn't sensible -- let alone practical -- to do something like that on a daily basis.

Ben reached out to his _Vod'e_ in their network, in their Force bonds, running a mental hand over their presences, soothing them, and getting thankful little touches in return.

Just thinking about the sheer length of the lists of names the seven of them carried around in their heads and hearts wearied Ben. Just thinking about it -- his own Remembrances took nearly as long, but he simply didn't say them more often than not -- left him feeling oddly sore and bruised. Just thinking about it... Ben wanted to rail at the unfairness of it all.

That anyone so young could have suffered so much loss...

He suspected that it wearied his _Vod'e_ profoundly as well. 

A familiar whisper of feeling -- of standing together, shoulder to shoulder, as they remembered those who'd marched far away -- refocused Ben's attention and he reached out. 

He'd often helped the men through this part. Helped them keep their memories of their lost _Vod'e_ crisp and sharp, helped them make sure they never missed anyone's name.

Helped them stay reasonably emotionally balanced.

It honoured him that they would allow him to take part in something they considered so private, even peripherally.

His men had never said a word about it, but he'd had his suspicions. Strong ones. Before their trip into the past, Ben had known that -- whether he'd helped them with their ritual or not -- in every month of the War they'd lost at least one or two _Vod'e_ either right before or right after a Remembrance Day. Now he knew the reason why. Cody had confirmed his suspicions when they'd finally completed their Force bond. They'd fallen to the weight of those memories. To the stress of those losses.

Ben mourned those most of all. It was difficult for him to feel the men who came back from a campaign without their closest friends bleeding their anguish into the Force, their depth of feeling like stinging grains of sand carried along by a desert wind. Those who came back only to come undone when Remembrance Day came around... Force, but that had always made Ben wish they had a mind healer aboard the _Negotiator_ and nevermind his own hang ups.

As his _Vod'e_ settled into the rhythm of it, he felt them come on point, the familiarity of the ritual helping jog their memories almost as much as Ben could.

He still soothed them when they got too raw and kept them from spiraling when it sometimes became too much. When it became overwhelming to think about the enormity of it all. 

"Ben?" His _buir_ 's voice jolted him out of his light meditation. " _Ad'ika_ , what are you doing out here?"

Ben shrugged. "I'm keeping watch, _buir_."

The _Mand'alor_ gave him a wry look. "I can see that," he answered. " _Why_ are you keeping watch?"

And not one of your _Vod'e_? Rang clear in the air after he'd finished speaking. 

"The others are... preoccupied, _buir_ ," Ben said softly. "It's Remembrance Day."

That got him a startled look. "It's what?"

Right. He wouldn't know about this, since he'd never seen them do it before. Ben bit down on a sigh. "I've told you about the situation where we come from," he opened, keeping the words vague since they were out in the corridor where anyone could overhear them. "My _Vod'e_ can only say their Remembrances once in a month or so, because to do it daily would render them unfit for duty. It takes them most of the rotation to finish, and then recover from the impact of digging all those memories back up."

Their _buir_ looked caught between stunned surprise and mute horror. Ben offered him a wan smile. "I keep watch while they're dealing with their ritual. I expect it's a little different from the one you're used to."

Their _buir_ sighed heavily and sat down beside him. "It probably is," he agreed. "Frankly, the more I learn about your pasts, the happier I am that you're _here_ and not _there_."

Oh, it was all too easy to understand that sentiment.

Ben felt it himself.

That was dangerous, though. The more he let himself get comfortable in this time, with his newfound family and its stability. With being wanted and prized and loved in ways he had never been before...

The less he wanted to go back, himself. It was such a grim future, and for all that it was his sworn duty to set what he could to rights _then_ , it was ever so tempting to stay _here-and-now_ to improve things from afar.

That thought brought back up a host of others. Theirs might be a grim, dark time, but there were bright points. Anakin. Plo. Mace. His 212th. He'd found reasonably good approximations of a lot of those people he missed. But it simply wasn't the same. The Mace and Plo he'd met here weren't the same Jedi he knew. Nor did they know him the way they ought. His 212th was present, too, sure, _pars pro toto_ , seven men representing thousands of troopers.

Anakin... wasn't there at all.

Mandalore was a place where he could oh so very easily see his _Vod'e_ finding a place to belong. A home. Especially now that they'd already been adopted and gotten attached.

He could -- a bit more worryingly -- see himself doing the same, despite the Mandalorian dislike of and distrust towards Jedi. For all the worry and stress being in the past had caused him, he was also happier here and now than he had ever expected to be.

Happier than he could recall being since leaving the crèche and Master Tinna's care.

"We really can't stay, _buir_ ," he reminded Jaster, allowing himself to use the _name_ in his thoughts instead of the title for the first time in a long time. Familiarity over respect. "We have a duty to the Republic that demands we go back."

The network seemed to twitch sharply at his words, and Ben realised that Cody and Wooley had picked up on the emotions behind what he was saying. He absently calmed them both, gently telling them he was fine and to go back to what they were doing. Offering them the image of himself in the corridor talking to their _buir_ , and getting a mix of relief and exasperation in return.

The _Mand'alor_ 's expression twisted unhappily. "Until you find a way back, you don't exactly have much choice," he pointed out.

"We know," Ben said on a sigh of his own. "We know, _buir_."

Boil seemed to spasm in the network, a harsh shudder of grief going through him. Ben reached out to steady him, briefly distracted from their conversation, and felt the rest of the network rally to help him.

When Boil was stable again, the troopers all gave Ben a grateful squeeze, a feeling like a shot of warm liqueur on a chill day. When he reopened eyes he hadn't realised he'd closed, Jaster immediately caught his gaze.

"I won't even pretend to be okay with the fact that it takes your _vod'e_ an entire karking rotation to say their remembrances," the _Mand'alor_ said darkly, keeping his voice low. "At that age their only worries should be their studies. Not..."

His words trailed off and Ben nodded. "And not each mourning what seems like an entire battalion," he finished. "I agree, _buir_. But we must all play the hands fate deals us."

A silence fell between them, then, that felt like it should have been companionable rather than grave and solemn, and held until Jaster made a discontent sound and glanced down at his comm, which was silently flashing as someone demanded his attention.

Ben couldn't help the way that made him smile, touched by the concern and protectiveness. "Much as I would prefer to have the company, _buir_ ," he said, "you have other important issues to deal with. You'd be welcome back here whenever you're through with those, but in the meantime I am fully capable of standing guard and don't have the authority to deal with whatever that is."

Jaster growled under his breath. " _That, ad'ika_ , is likely nothing more than someone with an overinflated sense of how important his problem is," he said caustically, not pleased at all to be forced away from his position by Ben's side. But he got to his feet and answered his comm, without moving any further. "Mereel."

" _Buir_ ," Jango said, sounding relieved, and Jaster relaxed substantially. "Where are you? I thought we were supposed to discuss whatever that new contract was you were talking about taking."

"Right. I got distracted by your _vod'ike_ ," Jaster answered, keeping his words suitably vague. "I'll be right there."

"Alright, Fett out."

Jaster looked down at him, expression serious. "If you or your _vod'e_ need anything at all, you know how to reach us," he said.

Ben nodded, a mix of gratitude and disbelief rolling through him. "We do, _buir_ ," he agreed, knowing Jaster would be able to hear the promise underlying his words.


	29. Chapter 29

\--- POV: Plo Koon ---

As the days flew by, Plo was amused to discover that any time he was in Sundari was fair game for the _vod'e_ to invite him to join them for various activities. 

Oftentimes, he was busy with organizing and participating in the campaign against the Death Watch. Opportunities to socialize with the younglings were limited. He made the effort to spend what time he could with them.

They were such devoted children. Even with Ben shielding them, they radiated protective warmth in the Force. 

Plo would miss them when he returned to Coruscant. 

Though… perhaps there might be time for a visit. It had required some very pointed questions and a reminder that intel and plans regarding Ben and his _vod'e_ were to be shared between the two of them, but Master Dooku had spoken with him about his conversation with the younglings just prior to their rescue of Crys and Longshot. On the basis of intuition alone Master Dooku had raised the possibility of Master Sifo-Dyas bringing Obi-Wan to Sundari to visit. Ben's _vod'e_ seemed to be overwhelmingly excited about that idea, judging by their unsubtle attempts to get more information on the youngling. Plo himself was tentatively in favor. He had been sure to make it clear to Master Dooku that as Master Sifo-Dyas was the one who would be chaperoning this trip, that he should be the one to bring it up to the Council.

Truthfully, Plo wasn't sure if the Council would allow it or not. Sometimes initiates were allowed out of the crèches for visits to other worlds under the guidance of masters. Oftentimes it was for cultural events, but not always. Plo would feel more worried about the safety of the little initiate on Mandalore, except the civil war had turned into more of a rout. 

Not even four weeks had passed since they and the knights had first gotten their boots on the ground here in Mandalore and already he and Master Dooku were planning for the Jedi to bow out and retreat back to the main Temple. The battles had gone that well. While there would surely be some wrap up left, the _Mand'alor_ and his people looked to have everything well in hand. 

The success was mildly astonishing, and the low casualty rate even more so. Knight Xen and Knight Lara'guz had been the only Jedi to sustain serious injuries. Healer Vokara Che was confident that soon they both would be ready to travel back to Coruscant to finish their healing. 

Secretly, Plo suspected that the knights likely could have made the trip sooner. Knight Xen, especially, who was out of critical condition fairly quickly. With the loss of a limb and a lekku, the bulk of his recovery would entail getting prosthesis attached and doing physical therapy to become accustomed to it. 

Knight Lara'guz was in a more delicate situation. Perhaps Healer Che was simply being cautious.

Or perhaps she also wanted to make sure that her other charges had a strong enough foundation to continue their healing without her. Plo was aware that she'd been talking with some of the _vod'e_. He would never dream of breaching their privacy and inquiring about the details, but he was relieved that the younglings were at least getting _some_ kind of help.

Every time he looked at them, the Force nudged and hinted that they needed care. Not coddling, or even supervision. They just needed people _to care_. Plo's heart went out to them.

He was soothed by the fact that the _Mand'alor_ and his older child clearly loved the _vod'e_ already. The local warriors were smitten with them as well. This was a very good thing in Plo's estimation. If he had to leave these children here, at least they would be well cared for.

The _Mand'alor_ and his older son both seemed to be fairly amused by Plo's near-instant rapport with the younglings, much to Plo's relief. 

Now that the Order's involvement in the fighting was wrapping up, Plo was pleased to spend more time with them all. He'd been invited to dinner more than once. A curious event, since most baseline humanoids were a bit puzzled with how he could eat with his antitox ventilator on. The machine was, of course, equipped to accept food and drink. It had to be for him to be able to take extended missions away from his climate controlled room in the Temple. 

Even more telling was the way that neither Ben nor any of his _vod'e_ gave him a second glance when he ate. Jaster and Jango felt curious in the Force, but kept their looks and discussion polite.

This afternoon's events were something slightly more serious than simple dining and company, and Plo was exceedingly curious about what would unfold.

"Master Plo," Cody said courteously when he answered the door to their suite. A smile lit up his face. "Come in."

"Thank you, youngling," Plo said happily. 

He had barely gotten two steps in the door before he was wrapped in hugs from three of the _vod'e_ , Cody included. This, too, was normal for them. Plo very much enjoyed it. Such joy was not something he ever wanted to disregard. 

The lumbering mass of hugging bodies slowly moved forward to the sitting area under Plo's steady effort, with each of the _vod'e_ giggling the whole way. It was silly fun. In a small, tucked-away corner of Plo's mind, he wondered just how much silliness these solemn little warriors ever got.

More. They would get more, if Plo had anything to say about it.

"Welcome, Master Plo," Ben said, smiling up from where he was seated on a couch. 

Plo bowed slightly to him. That was about the best he could do. He was still swamped in hugs, and now with a couple more added on. His mandibles twitched with pleasure. 

"Good afternoon, young ones," Plo said happily. 

"Would you like some caff?" Ben asked as they all got settled into their seats. "I'm afraid that tea is hard to come by around here, otherwise I would offer it."

"No, thank you," Plo said easily.

Wooley and Boil ended up snuggling next to him in his plush armchair. There was plenty of room. He didn't mind. 

"To what do we owe the pleasure, Master Plo?" Cody asked as he sat next to Ben. His tone was light enough that it implied that Plo could have been there for any reason and the _vod'e_ would have found it acceptable. 

"Some weeks ago, Ben offered to share a memory with me. That of your arrival here in this time. Since I believe that soon my presence will no longer be needed here, I had hoped that we would be able to address that matter now."

Some of the light, playful atmosphere drained away. The _vod'e_ straightened up and grew more serious. Plo was relieved to see that they didn't seem unhappy. Just attentive. That boded well for the sharing. 

"Of course, Master Plo." Ben nodded at him.

"I would also very much like to know more about the vision you had when we first arrived," Plo added. "Since you have not mentioned it again, I deduced that it wasn't critical to anything we were currently engaged in."

Now the room grew tenser. 

Ben's shields were meticulous; Plo could read nothing from him or his _vod'e_ in the Force. The young warriors' body language was less guarded. Likely only because they trusted Plo. 

Several of the younglings cast worried glances at Ben, and Ben's face had gone pleasantly and politely blank. Not a good sign.

Ben gave Plo a very charming smile. "You are correct. It had nothing to do with current matters."

Plo waited a moment to see if Ben would continue. He debated about whether or not he should prod. It wasn't strictly any of his business, and Force visions were often disturbing.

Seeing how Ben had promptly been ill upon receiving this particular vision, Plo suspected that it was incredibly unpleasant.

"What did you see?" Cody asked, saving Plo the trouble.

Ben blinked, as if he'd just remembered that he was in a room with other people, and shot Cody a quick glance. Then he looked back to Plo.

Plo waited quietly as Ben decided if he was going to trust him.

Wooley peeled off from Plo's side and promptly glued himself to Ben. His distress was obvious, though Ben barely did more than absently pat Wooley's leg.

"You'll have to forgive me, Master Plo," Ben said with a slight smile and a nod. The movements seemed… off. "I don't know how much I should tell you."

Plo considered this.

It was true that visions were tricky things. Even the Baran Do Sages knew this, and Foresight was one of their specialties. By meddling, many a Seer had caused the events they were desperately attempting to avoid. Some visions were unavoidable. Some never came to be at all.

However, Plo enjoyed having a heads up.

He didn't want to pressure Ben. That would be worse, in his estimation.

Cody scowled at Ben and Helix looked mutinous.

Before either of them could voice their complaints, Ben held up a hand to them, staving it off.

"No, I know," Ben said quietly. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a slow breath. Crys scooted in tighter to his other side, near squishing him with Wooley's help.

" _Vod'e_ , it's fine," Ben said soothingly. From the noises of outrage, no one believed him. 

"You're full of banthashit, General," Wooley growled into Ben's side.

Plo held back a huff of amusement. They really were good children.

Ben's lips held a hint of a smirk on them. The expression quickly fled.

"Noted," he said dryly.

He shifted in place, an oddly nervous gesture for one so self-contained, and then he hesitantly rested a hand on Wooley's head.

"I will remind you that what I'm going to talk about has either already happened to me a very long time ago, or will not happen yet for many years," Ben said. "So the need for concern is… minimal."

From the way Ben was very carefully not looking at any of them and the pained expression on Wooley's face, Plo suspected that wasn't accurate.

Still. He didn't like how much distress this was putting them all through.

"Listen to the Force, young one," Plo said. He tried to project calm and safety, though he doubted any of it would reach through Ben's shields. "Share only what you feel you should."

That earned him another quick smile, barely enough to even register as one. It was still a win.

"Then let me tell you about Xanatos du Crion."

If anything, that just made the _vod'e_ tense more. There was a curiosity on their faces, though. Perhaps they, too, hadn't heard this story yet.

Ben ignored it.

"A very long time ago for me, and, if my math is correct, a few years from now, Xanatos Fell," Ben started. A quick spike of unease shot up Plo's spine. "He never became a Sith, not to my knowledge anyways. But that didn't stop him from wreaking a rather unfortunate amount of damage. He --"

Ben paused poised between words. If Plo didn't know better, he would have assumed that Ben had only a minor disruptive thought. As if he'd just remembered he'd left his kettle on. The sheer anxiety that the _vod'e_ were displaying showed how much that façade was a lie.

The lapse only lasted a moment, and then Ben was smiling charmingly once again. This time there was a touch of self-depreciation in his expression. His look said, _oh forgive me, I was distracted, my apologies_.

Plo didn't buy it for a second.

But if the _vod'e_ hadn't been there… he would have. That thought alone was disturbing.

"Xanatos ended up holding a rather nasty grudge against Master Qui-Gon," Ben continued blithely. "I ended up as collateral damage for several parts of his various plans of revenge. It was unpleasant. Seeing him again was startling for me, and it was compounded by Longshot and Crys being captured. I think it was his presence that triggered the vision, or rather, how unprepared I was for seeing him again."

"General," Crys said softly, clearly in distress.

"It's fine, _vod_." Ben spoke absently, as if by rote. "My vision held a few of the memories from that time, as well as some of what you and Longshot were going through." His brow wrinkled and a slight frown crossed his face. "There were also flashes of things I did not recognize. Dark things in the far future."

His distant expression turned into something far more irritated. "Nothing actionable, unfortunately." Ben shook his head and finally looked at Plo. "You, or someone you trust, should keep an eye on Xanatos. Not because he _will_ Fall, but because he _might_ and he deserves as much support as he can get. In my past, he Fell because of the death of his father. It was right before he was knighted. You have a few years yet to attempt to reach out to the boy."

The _vod'e_ were practically vibrating with the force of their anger. Plo was rather glad that they were under Ben's formidable shields; the sensation of their focused wills in the Force would be quite unpleasant without it.

"I see," Plo rumbled quietly. He withheld the usual comments about how uncertain the future could be; Ben clearly understood this.

"Normally, I would try to intervene, myself," Ben said with a shrug. "It would hardly be the first time I've attempted to stop someone's Fall, or attempted to pull someone back from the Dark even after they'd personally-- After unpleasant altercations. I find I am having difficulties with being near Xanatos in particular, however. I think it has something to do with this body's age." Ben's expression turned wry. "For all that he made my life rather eventful for a while, Xanatos was dead by the time I was fifteen. Hearing him speak again, while feeling this young is… unsettling."

Which meant that a Dark force user had had access to Ben when he'd been a young teen. Probably several times, from what Ben had implied. 

Plo very much wanted to be sick.

"Cody, nothing has happened yet," Ben said firmly.

"General," Cody bit out.

"No." Ben shook his head emphatically. "The Xanatos that once did terrible things to me has been dead for decades, and the one who is here hasn't yet Fallen from the Light. He wouldn't deserve your retribution for events long past. Events that I _survived_ , may I remind you."

Helix slumped over into the back of his seat and covered his face. "That would be significantly more reassuring if we didn't already know just how much you could survive, General."

"I will do what I can," Plo said immediately in an attempt to refocus the conversation. Maybe if he could distract them long enough to calm them down, the _vod'e_ would hold off on any ill conceived plans of revenge.

"But... it may be beyond our control," he had to add.

Given how tense the room was, he hated to mention that. For the sake of full disclosure, he did anyways.

"I know," Ben said softly. "It is his choice. All those around him can do is mitigate it."

The silence in the room that followed was fraught.

"Would you like a hug?" Plo asked somewhat tentatively. He wasn't sure what else he could offer.

Ben stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"A hug. Many beings find it comforting." The implication being that Ben might also enjoy this and thus allow himself to take some comfort.

Plo thought this was quite clear. From Ben's absolutely stunned and confused expression, perhaps it wasn't.

"I'm --" Ben started.

" _Do. Not. Say it,_ " Cody snarled. He looked about ready to drag Ben over by his collar.

Ben turned his baffled look to Cody.

Force, who had taught this young one to isolate himself so thoroughly? 

Plo stood up and opened his arms. He was very promptly mobbed by the distressed _vod'e_ , with Wooley and Crys pulling Ben along with them into the fold.

For comfort's sake, Plo knelt on the ground. He made sure that Ben was the one who was primarily in his arms and used a light application of the Force to tug the rest of them close to him.

Ben's eyes were wide and bright. He looked utterly lost.

"I don't understand," he said thickly.

"It's alright, Ben." Plo held him close. "You don't need to worry about anything right now."

Ben's face crumpled a little, and then he ducked his head, hiding the expression. Very slowly, Plo felt the telltale tug of Ben's fingers digging into his tunics. 

"Everything will be alright, youngling," Plo murmured. He had no idea how much this was even helping, if it was a help at all. He had hope that it was.

They stayed that way for less time than Plo expected. A quarter of an hour at most. Then some of the fierce rigidity left Ben's frame and his breathing took an even more measured pace.

It was clear to Plo that the boy hadn't yet purged his well of sadness, he was merely tucking it away for the time being. That he'd allowed himself to take shelter in another for even a short time was impressive.

Plo wished a little harder than he could stay. But he had duties to attend to. He would have to leave the matter of Ben's healing to his brothers and hope that they would all manage well.

They stayed close together for a few minutes longer as everyone collected themselves.

When the moment had passed, Ben pushed away and his _vod'e_ allowed him to move. He still looked a little out of sorts. Plo paid it no mind. It would only embarrass the youngling to bring attention to it.

"The memory," Ben said. He rubbed his face and straightened into a position more applicable to meditation, rather than the awkward sprawl that they had been in. "Do you still want it?"

"Yes." Plo nodded. "Are you feeling up to sharing it?"

On the one hand, Plo suspected that Ben was significantly more upset about the talk of Xanatos than he'd let on. That could potentially leak into any memory or meditation that he might share. 

On the other hand, Ben had already proven that he had a near vicious mental control of himself and his abilities. Perhaps it wouldn't be an issue at all.

True to form, Ben nodded. "Yes. This one isn't terribly distressing, just very, very odd. It will be no trouble to share."

"Ah. Well, that is good to know." Plo shifted so that he was kneeling properly.

The _vod'e_ moved just enough so that they could all sit comfortably, but remained clustered around both Ben and Plo. Cody actually got up so that he could sit back to back with Ben, and Crys and Wooley kept their arms wrapped around Ben's waist. It looked like it should have been awkward, but somehow wasn't at all.

Without another word, Plo settled himself into a light meditation. Sooner than he expected, he felt the delicate brush of Ben's mind against his shields.

He reached out.

To his intense surprise, Ben didn't drop his own shields. He enveloped Plo into his, just as he did with the _vod'e_. The sensation of all of those expertly crafted mental defenses shuttering down around him was a bit of a shock. Plo still had his own internal defenses; Ben had simply layered his on top of them.

Ben sent a small wave of rueful apology at him but didn't actually modify his shielding at all.

It was tempting to make a comment about paranoia, but Plo could feel how unsettled Ben was. 

_Unsettled_.

Perhaps that was too tame a word. He couldn't get a firm read on anything else, and even as he registered Ben's unease, it slithered away under Ben's personal shields until all that remained was polite attentiveness.

Plo had read the reports from the examinations. He knew that Ben was capable of this type of mental partitioning. It was still profoundly impressive.

And a little worrying as well, though he kept that thought under heavy shield himself.

He found he also had a better sense of the _vod'e_ as well, though they, too, were covered with Ben's shields.

Oh.

Oh Force.

They all sparkled. They were all mildly Force sensitive, he'd known this already, but _Wooley_. Wooley glowed.

 _I'll train him_ , Ben thought at Plo, clearly sensing where his mind was going.

 _I know you will, and I know you will all excel_ , Plo sent back along with the mental flavor of confidence and support.

It was a foregone conclusion that Wooley would not be going to the Temple. Ben himself had declined and the rest of the _vod'e_ only seemed less inclined to acquiesce to leaving. But so, too, had Ben proven himself a master, and the _vod'e_ were all dedicated young men. Wooley would be trained. Plo had no doubts of it.

 _You will reach out to me if you are in need of anything_ , Plo sent to them all, but especially to Wooley and Ben. _Not every Force user who serves the Light need serve the Order as well, and we would be wise to support each other regardless of such affiliations._

Ben's mind danced with amusement, light and crisp. _Well said, Councilor_.

There was a feeling of waiting and the sense of a question; it was the mental equivalent of asking if he was ready.

Plo sent back wordless assurance.

An image flooded his mind.

It enveloped him far more gently than he'd expected, filling out his senses and wrapping around him like a blanket. Ben's mental touch was very delicate.

Baseline humans experienced the world in a very different manner than a Kel Dor did. The overwhelming sense of _vision_ was astonishing, and the lack of scents and vibrations was just as jarring. This was hardly the first time that Plo had shared memories with a human before, so he was far from unprepared. It was still an adjustment.

Plo looked through Ben's eyes. He was taller. _Adult_. Tired and still carrying a few aching wounds, pain that was ignored so completely that it barely registered as a sensation. He was surrounded by men in white and gold armor. It wasn't _beskar'gam_ , though it may have shared an ancestor with it.

Those minds, though. Those men were the younglings that Plo knew. Cody, Helix, Crys, Longshot, Wooley, Waxer, and Boil. All grown men, all hardened soldiers.

All of them running towards a fight. 

Ben's lightsabre was drawn, and in that moment he'd known that Ben's student was ahead of them, racing towards terrible danger. Reckless, always reckless, but beloved all the same.

They were running through a forest. Blasterfire sounded in the distance and Plo could faintly hear the hum of lightsabres.

In the memory, Ben could feel the warm, welcoming buzz of legions of soldiers just on the edge of his awareness. Ben's men. And, Force, so many of them! Ben had found it a deep comfort, and Plo found it more than a little terrifying.

They ran, tired but adrenalized. Ready to _fight_. There, ahead of them! Ben's student and a droid... that was wielding lightsabres? Ben's memory screamed with the feeling of danger in the Force. This being -- _Grievous_ , Ben's mind supplied -- was a sentient of deep cruelty and malevolence. Not a Sith, but in league with them, hellbent on the destruction of the Jedi.

Plo had never felt such Darkness all around him in the Force. It made the small lights of Ben's troopers all the more precious. The love that Ben felt for all of his men was as clear as day, and only rivaled by his distress at leading them all into a fight that some of them wouldn't live through.

Grievous dashed into a black opening in the rock in front of them, swerving out of Ben's student's range. Cody dashed right after him and Plo could feel Ben's immediate refusal to see any of his people, _especially_ Cody, face that monster alone.

He Force jumped himself right into that black maw, into the dark beyond.

Something twisted. Or maybe fell. The Force was a jumble around him.

Then there was darkness. Not the aching cold of the Dark Side, just the simple sensation of slowly awakening from unconsciousness.

In Ben's memory, his head pounded with pain. He struggled to wake. He struggled in general; his limbs felt wrong and his clothes and armor were smothering.

The vast majority of his troops were gone. The forest around them looked strange.

Worse than that, those few men that remained with him were _tiny_ , shrunken in their armor as Ben had shrunk in his robes. Their Force signatures were bright and healthy, or as bright as non-Force sensitive beings ever got. But everything seemed _off_.

It was Cody's voice that had caused the initial bout of panic. It was so young and light.

The very last part of the memory that Ben shared was his sudden realization, _Sith-spit, we are children again_.

Then Ben's mind gently disengaged.

Plo took a deep breath as his mind reeled from the sharing.

That was.

Unexpected.

He could sense no falsehood in it. In fact, the more he looked over the memory in his mind, the more he noticed that the _vod'e_ had added in little details. Flickers of images from their HUDs. A sense of brotherhood stretching out to encompass millions. The flavor of Ben's student's laugh, like blasting gel mixed with plasma, and the fear-comfort that the thrum of a lightsabre brought. The utter devotion they felt for their General. 

It was intense. 

Ben very obviously had the skill to create such a detailed mental landscape. His _vod'e_ undoubtedly did not. Yet their contributions perfectly corroborated Ben's sharing. 

Plo gently pulled away from Ben's shielding, and Ben allowed him to go. He took the opportunity to meditate for a few minutes more on what he'd seen.

Master Dooku was correct. They were time travelers, and their future was a Dark one, indeed. 

Whether or not it could be prevented was another matter. 

When Plo opened his eyes, Ben and his _vod'e_ were all quietly watching him. Waiting.

"You have given me much to think on, youngling," Plo finally said. 

He was more than troubled. 

"I know," Ben said solemnly. 

He did, too. The weight of his future was one he'd been carrying around for a long while and it was a tangible thing. 

Plo nodded, mostly to himself. "I will speak with the Council about this. But no matter what they say, you will have _my_ support. General."

It was a title that he knew Ben had more than earned, and one that drove home just how fractured the future was. Jedi should _never_ be generals. They sought to bring peace, not lead armies. 

All of that was unsaid, but not unheard.

Ben gave Plo a small bow. "Thank you, Master Plo."

Plo took a breath.

"What... what timetable are we working with? How long before _that_ happens?" Plo asked. He had to.

Ben gave him a long look.

"The war starts thirty years from now, or did for us, anyways. But I believe that certain events which led to it were brewing long before then."

That was both gratifyingly distant and unpleasantly soon. 

The silence stretched as Plo tried to wrap his mind around the enormity of what he'd just discovered. 

" _Buir_ and _ori'vod_ will be joining us for dinner soon," Cody said. "Would you like to join us?"

Plo shook his head. "Thank you, but I must decline. I think... I think I need to meditate on this."

The younglings nodded in understanding, though a few of them looked disappointed.

Plo gave them all polite goodbyes and another hug for each of them. Then took himself off back to his rooms, his mind heavy with possibilities. 

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

Guard duty was one of Waxer's least favourite things. It was just _boring_ , no matter how necessary he knew it to be. Watching the General and Master Dooku spar and checking on the people coming and going took so little of his attention that he gave in and let himself sink a little deeper into the sentry-trance that all _vod'e_ were taught and let his thoughts wander back over the last few rotations.

It had been a karking relief of the highest order when the Commander had finally made his decision and started talking to Healer Che. General Kenobi had picked up on what was happening right away, and carefully made himself scarce both in person and in the network. It had been obvious that he was doing it out of some kind of desire not to intrude or make things more difficult than they needed to be. The Commander would feel intensely vulnerable and exposed during those moments when he voluntarily tore down all the patches he'd been using to hold himself together and rebuilt parts of himself from the ground up, and they'd all known it. Sith-hells, they'd all found themselves in that position before, at one point or another over the course of their lives, albeit to a lesser degree.

Anytime the Commander had managed to take another step forward in rebuilding, Kenobi had slipped out of the room, careful not to put too much distance between himself and the seven of them. Waxer knew the General had been keeping watch over all of them in the Force as he relaxed outside the building with Master Dooku. How they'd decided to entertain themselves was a mystery to him, though. Maybe the pair of them had kept themselves occupied by drinking tea and discussing some obscure philosophical nonsense to do with their Code. It wouldn't have been the first time the _jetiise_ had done something like that.

Luckily for them, Healer Che hadn't minded that they'd lingered in the med bay themselves, whenever their Commander was working with her. It was kind of painful -- especially for Wooley, who seemed to feel the pain that the various patients were in, as well as the Commander's own -- what with the way they'd all felt the whole process keenly in the network. The sharp stabs of emotion that felt like they would go right through one's sternum had been tough to endure, but all of them had karking meant it when they'd said they would be there to have their Commander's back. It was worth it; being there gave them the opportunity to both do what they could to keep from thinking about what was going on and offer the Commander a bit of camouflage for what he was doing.

It had been a pleasant surprise to see how much their presence helped him, and with each session the Commander had seemed to get a little better. It was obvious that there was no way Healer Che could get Commander Cody completely fixed up in the short time they had available, but it was just as clear that the foundations she and Commander Cody were laying would be solid as bedrock.

The rest of them distracted themselves checking on the injured _jetiise_ and talking with each new group of rescued _ad'e_. Over the course of the campaign, a lot more of them had been found and brought back to Sundari than anyone had expected, betraying the sheer scale of Death Watch's operations. Not one of those _ad'e_ had come home without bringing along some personal hurdles to overcome. All of them had already been approached by _verd'e_ offering to adopt them. Most had accepted the offers, relieved to know that someone was willing to help them back to their feet. 

Just as importantly, they desperately needed to know that they weren't going to be shunned or abandoned by everyone else simply because of what those Death Watch _shabuir'e_ had done to them. All of them had needed a lot of reassurance and affection. Some of it had been provided by their new _buir'e_ , but for those who had yet to accept an offer...

That kind of help was something he and his _vod'e_ had no problem giving. It was no different from stabilising a battle weary _Vod_ , in many ways. Crys and Longshot were especially good at their self-appointed task. They knew exactly what the others had gone through. They'd experienced it themselves, even if it had only been for a couple of weeks and that shared experience meant that the _ad’ike_ listened to them most of all. It also helped him and his _vod'e_ deal with their own lingering protective anger and restlessness; working with the rescued _ad'e_ was more productive than simply standing guard while Commander Cody put himself back together piece by piece, and also helped ease the rescues back into being social. 

The more they'd tried to make sure their Commander had the time he needed with Healer Che, though, the more they'd all felt the days tick by, with a feeling like an opportunity slipping through their fingers.

With each rotation that passed, it got more obvious that the _jetiise_ were preparing to go back to Coruscant. The battles were getting smaller as each day went by, and every time he and his _Vod'e_ visited the recovering Knights, the two of them looked better.

Soon, Waxer was sure, the _jetiise_ would simply pack up their 'sabres and robes and leave. Healer Che, her patients, General _Buir_... all of them but Master Dooku, who would be staying on as liaison after the end of the campaign against the Death Watch.

Dooku would, based on what he'd heard, be in charge of keeping an eye on the mop-up efforts and on General Kenobi.

Waxer had to admit he felt a lot better about the idea of letting the Master anywhere near their General after everything they'd experienced in the past month and a half. Dooku had not only proven his mettle in battle, but also shown that he truly _wasn't_ the terrifying Sith he'd become in their timeline. And, Waxer was pretty sure, if they managed to keep that _jetii_ on Mandalore, they'd be able to keep him from Falling and becoming that creature.

Even better -- if a bit more unbelievable -- Master Dooku actually seemed to have an interest in making sure nothing bad happened to General Kenobi or any of the _Vod'e_.

The more cynical take on that observation would be to assume that the stance was simply an attempt to stay on their _buir_ 's good side, but Waxer felt that Master Dooku _actually_ meant what he said when he claimed to want Ben to improve his skills and be happy with his choices. When he claimed to want Kenobi to have the opportunity to not have to think like a General all the karking time. To want him to be able to sleep, and not worry so much that he'd wear a hole in his own stomach with it.

Surveying the training yard one more time, Waxer had to nod in something approximating satisfaction.

The space was currently relatively well-populated with spectators; Kenobi and Master Dooku always made for a good showing when they managed to carve a few simultaneous minutes out of their respective schedules to train together. The pair of _jetiise_ were circling each other, their lightsabres occasionally clashing with that hum-crackle that penetrated bone-deep. General Kenobi, wearing his new surcoat, the armourweave swirling around him like his robes had used to, was dodging more strikes than he parried.

It was a beautiful sight.

Looking back, Kenobi's decision not to make any kind of move against the Master on Korda VI -- which all of the _Vod'e_ had disagreed with at the time, unable to see what Kenobi had -- had definitely been the right one. It was still bizarre to think about, but that was one Jedi Master that was well on his way to being irrevocably in their General's pocket.

"What're you thinking about so hard?" Boil asked him.

"It's still so weird to see that," he answered his _riduur_ , pointing at the two sparring _jetiise_ with his chin and carefully keeping his words vague. He didn't really want to get into a prolonged discussion while they were 'on duty'.

Boil huffed. "I know what you mean."

A short silence reigned. Then his _riduur_ added, "Think they'll want to do blaster practice?"

"We can ask them," Waxer said with a shrug. "Any idea if the Commander managed to get the additional intel he wanted from General _Buir_?"

"No clue," Boil replied with a cheerful grin. "We can ask him when he gets back."

"Or," Waxer suggested with a smirk of his own. "We can try to get what we want out of Master Dooku."

"What?" Boil's voice held all his surprise and incredulity. "You think we can bat our eyelashes and get what amounts to top secret information from him? We have nothing on him and he's not like Master Plo, who seems to trust us as much as we trust him."

"What the kriff are you two _di'kut'e_ chattering about?" Wooley broke in over their comms. Waxer would've given their _Vod_ a piece of his mind, but that was the same moment they saw the Commander slip back out of the palace's central building to rejoin them. His attention caught, Waxer said nothing further.

A few moments later General _Buir_ followed the Commander out of the same door, albeit much less unobtrusively.

Torn between staying in their perch and rushing over to greet Master Plo, Waxer shifted his weight and bit at his lip.

Kenobi and Master Dooku broke off whatever exercise they were doing, and their General spoke over their private comms. "Oh, stop worrying and get down here, _Vod'e_ ," he said, with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Helix snorted. "We weren't worrying," he shot back. "We were debating whether we wanted to face the Commander's punishment, later, for deserting our posts."

The Commander shook his head. "If there was a debate," he replied, a teasing note in his voice, "clearly I'm losing my touch."

Laughing, Waxer and his _Vod'e_ vaulted lightly over the edges of their perches and dropped down to ground level. Once they were back on their feet, they turned as one and hurried over to greet General _Buir_ properly.

Master Plo chuckled at them. "It is good to see you, too, younglings. How fare you, this rotation?" 

"We're fine, sir," Wooley answered as they all stepped back, letting Master Plo greet their General properly with a bow, "sentry duty isn't what we'd call strenuous."

Waxer tuned out the words as the three _jetiise_ talked, preferring instead to focus on his Commander. _Intel retrieval successful?_ he signed, careful not to draw their own General's attention.

The Commander shook his head. _Attempt failed. General_ Buir _is too aware of operational security._

Waxer wanted to sigh. _We'll try again later,_ he replied. _I have an idea._

That got his Commander to look at him with sharp interest in the set of his shoulders and filtering over the network. _Acknowledged. Later._

"Dare I ask?" Kenobi drawled, his attention drawn by something they'd done, and waited for them to look up to meet his eyes.

It had probably been the Commander's sudden spike of interest and focus in the network that had alerted Kenobi, Waxer realised. 

"It's nothing all that important," the Commander told him.

General Kenobi didn't fully believe that -- Waxer could tell -- but he nodded anyway. "Sure. We can talk about it later, in that case."

"In the meantime," Master Plo put in, "I would like to request a spar of my own, Ben. It has been too long since I've had the chance to practice against an opponent of your calibre." 

Master Dooku raised an eloquent eyebrow at him, as if to say _excuse me? I'm right here_ , but didn't comment.

"Certainly, Master Plo," Kenobi agreed easily, sounding amused. "I can question my _Vod'e_ about their scheming later."

And he would, too. That was as good as a promise. Or a threat. They'd have to work quickly.

 _Follow my lead,_ he signed, hoping that the Commander would pick up on his plan without him having to use the network or more of their signs.

Pulling his bucket off and tucking it under his arm comfortably, he turned to catch Master Dooku's attention.

"Yes, youngling?" The tall Master answered his silent request gamely enough.

"I wanted to ask you a question, sir," Waxer said quietly.

Master Dooku raised an eloquent eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Well, you said there was a young initiate at the Temple on Coruscant, and that he wanted to meet us," Waxer said, and felt all his _Vod'e_ come on point around him, "and we wanted to ask if you could give us some more information."

"About Obi-Wan?" A surprisingly fond hint of a smile tugged at Master Dooku's lips. "Certainly."

"No, sir," Waxer shook his head. "We're trying to prepare ourselves for the possibility that the Council agrees to let him come here."

"Oh? And you believe I can help you with that?" Master Dooku looked skeptical, now.

Waxer nodded. "We know you can, Master Dooku, sir. We'd like to make sure we're ready for anything that might hit us. You've seen for yourself how trouble loves to find us, rather than the other way around."

"So what is it you'd like to know?" Master Dooku prompted him again.

This time Waxer gave him what he wanted. "General Kenobi said that if the Council does agree to let him come here, it would have to be under the supervision of one of the Councilors or a Jedi Master, so we'd like to get our hands on the comm frequencies of the Masters who'd be most likely to come here as the youngling's escort."

Master Dooku blinked at him in surprise, apparently caught totally flat-footed by that. If he was anything like the General, that meant he was stunned almost speechless. 

The Commander jumped in, then, apparently finally cottoning on. "It's a slim chance at best, but if something _does_ go wrong while they're here, we don't want to have to scramble to figure out who to contact and how, Master Dooku. We had that problem once already recently, when we accidentally forgot to save _buir_ 's frequency before the first series of Death Watch attacks."

"I... I see," Master Dooku said slowly, buying himself time to respond properly.

The rest of the _Vod'e_ responded to that by taking their own buckets off so that they could all turn hopeful stares on him like they had on their _buir_.

It was a tactic not to be underestimated, apparently. Master Dooku all but started stammering. "I-- I shall have to consider that request... very carefully, younglings. I-- It is hardly within my purview to simply hand out that information to... well, anyone who asks."

Waxer knew the others redoubled their hopeful staring as he replied. "We understand. Operational security is important. But this request also falls under that umbrella. It's in preparation for making sure that same operational security doesn't get compromised while Obi-Wan is here."

"Right. Yes. True. I will reflect on this and let you know what I decide." Master Dooku told them, trying to be firm.

Waxer allowed himself a smile and a nod. "Of course, Master Dooku," he replied, secure in the knowledge that his plan had worked, and that the Commander would have made a note of the tactic, for future use.

Later, once Kenobi and General _Buir_ had finished their spar and they'd made their way back up to their quarters, after they'd muddled their way through one more group meditation and shielding practice session, the General finally decided to start questioning them, as he'd promised to, down in the training yard. Personally, Waxer thought their General had opted to try to catch them off guard by making them wait and do other things in the interim.

"So," Kenobi started, then paused and surveyed the lot of them, where they were arrayed around their table quietly inhaling latemeal. Waxer watched the Commander sit up and practically come to attention under Kenobi's scrutiny. _Buir_ and _ori'vod_ reacted much the same way, curious.

"Something the matter, General?" Their Commander asked, keeping his voice level.

"What are you seven planning?" Kenobi asked bluntly, feeling caught between exasperation and amusement in the network. "Master Plo hinted that you were trying to get information out of him, Cody, and I saw the seven of you try to do much the same to Master Dooku."

Waxer wanted to groan. He'd been hoping the General would be distracted by his spar, but apparently that had been too much to ask. Should've known better, he chided himself.

"We're not _planning_ anything," Cody answered, getting a disbelieving scoff out of their _buir_ , before the silence in the room could catch and hold again. "We're attempting to cover all the bases and prepare."

General Kenobi's tone went knowing and his focus sharpened. "For what, exactly?"

Waxer could tell the question was rhetorical, but the Commander answered it anyways.

"For the day the younger you comes here to visit, assuming he's allowed to," Cody said dryly. " _Buir_ had the right of it. If he's anything like you are now, he'll attract trouble like a magnet does iron."

Jango laughed. "Somehow that wouldn't surprise me," he said, shaking his head.

The _Mand'alor_ nodded. "I know what you mean, _ad_. If he's anything like Ben or your _vod'ike_ , we'll have to be prepared."

Kenobi ignored the byplay and gave the Commander a slightly sour look. "I very much doubt the Council will truly allow him to come out here, Cody," he shot back, and Waxer felt the disappointment that speared through him reflected in his _Vod'e_. The General paused, letting the emotion in the network wash over and then past him, before he went on. "And even if they did allow it, I am still rather uncomfortable with the idea that we might cause a paradox by inviting him."

Waxer spoke up. "General?"

"Yes, Waxer?"

"What exactly _is_ a paradox, for those of us who haven't studied theoretical physics, or whatever that counts as?" He asked. "I'm pretty sure I know what's going on but..."

The General gave him a knowing look. "Something tells me you're attempting to find some kind of loophole to exploit," he commented, getting a half-sympathetic, half-amused smile from Jango in response. "Very well. What I mean when I say the word 'paradox' is what's otherwise known as a causal loop. An event that happens in the future which causes one in the past, which in turn must happen in order for the one in the future to be possible."

Waxer considered that for a moment. "Then us meeting Jango and _buir_ should count as a paradox," he said.

Kenobi went wide-eyed, startled. "What do you mean? I thought you'd never met Jango before."

"Well," Waxer replied, kind of enjoying himself despite the sheer weirdness of this conversation, "in our timeline we never did. Most of us. I think the Commander might have; he's from one of the very first batches. But here, we met him, and the galaxy didn't implode or whatever."

"And how does this represent a causal loop?" Kenobi raised an eyebrow at him.

Waxer fought to find the right words.

Helix beat him to it. "General, based on what you described as dangerous just now, we shouldn't be alive right now. In our timeline, Jango lost his _buir_ , and then also the title of _Mand'alor_. That was what caused him to agree to our creation, in the end; I'd put credits on it. If not for that, we wouldn't exist. Us meeting them two months ago and saving _buir_ should've meant we all ceased to exist, if we'd truly managed to break the timeline by doing so."

Jango and their _buir_ were watching them in stunned silence, now, all amusement gone. This was a part of the story that Kenobi had alluded to on Korda VI but only in passing. Now, Waxer knew, they were keeping their mouths shut and listening intently, storing away every word to mull over later. He would have done the same.

"Huh." Kenobi stared at their medic, his expression going more thoughtful by the moment. "I begin to see what you mean. We met and saved _buir_ and _ori'vod_ , which should've gotten Jango off the path that would lead to the creation of the clone battalions." 

"Maybe it did, sir, and maybe it didn't," Waxer picked up the thread again, "but we've also met and very heavily influenced Masters Plo and Dooku and Windu. Our interactions with any of the three of them could also have caused more such paradoxes. I really don't think that meeting the younger you -- out of all the people we could meet in this part of the timeline -- will be any worse."

General Kenobi nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful and a little bit distant as he thought that through. "I'll have to consider this in more detail," he said, "but you make a good point. We really _should_ have already caused several paradoxes, if we were going to." He paused and made a rueful face. "Time travel isn't the most well understood science, _Vod'e_. Until it happened to us, I thought it impossible, myself. Purely theoretical conjecture based on the kind of logic that gets most physicists laughed at."

Wooley shrugged. "We understand the need for caution, General," he said, adding his opinion to the mix, "but there is such a thing as being _too_ cautious. The Force brought us here-and-now. It wouldn't have done that for no reason. And it wouldn't do so without ensuring that we wouldn't accidentally break the galaxy by talking to the wrong person."

The statement got him a startled look. "You may be right about that," Kenobi admitted, rubbing at the nape of his neck with one hand. With a sigh, he relaxed back into his chair. "I shall have to meditate on this, but I rather suspect you've just hit that nail on the head, Wooley. That said, however, none of this actually answers my original question. What were you trying to weasel out of Masters Dooku and Plo, earlier?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Jango interjected.

"It should be," Waxer agreed and let his own posture go looser again, realising he'd tensed up without noticing. "Well, we wanted to try to get our operational security up to scratch for when the Cadet is here. Having access to the correct lines of communication could be mission critical."

Kenobi huffed at him, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "And so you decided to try to pry comm frequencies out of a Jedi High Council member and the liaison to the _Mand'alor_ ," he deduced.

The Commander shrugged, a hint of a smirk tugging at his own lips. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," he offered.

The General shook his head, trying and failing to look disappointed. "Neither of them is going to concede defeat easily, Cody," he said, "but I can see the merit in what you're proposing, so I'll let them be the ones to tell you no. And know this: even if you do succeed in winnowing what you seek out of Master Plo or Master Dooku, the Council will almost certainly ignore you entirely."

Waxer felt a mix of amusement and determination swell in the network as his _Vod'e_ all grinned at each other. That was a challenge, and they weren't about to turn it down.

The Commander nodded. "You just wait and see who admits defeat, General," he said simply.

"I suppose we will," Kenobi agreed.

"This should be interesting," their _buir_ muttered with a bemused shake of his head. "Try not to piss them off, will you?"

Crys laughed. "Don't worry, _buir_ ," he replied.

Jango exchanged a long look with the _Mand'alor_ then shrugged. "We can't exactly stop them," he pointed out, making Waxer grin along with his _vod'e_.

With a long-suffering sigh, their _buir_ grumbled, "I know, _ad_. That's what worries me."

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Once Knights Xen and Lara'guz had been cleared to travel back to Coruscant, things had moved quickly.

It seemed like it had taken all of a few minutes for Healer Che to pack her things and her two patients up and load them onto the waiting ship as Ben and his _Vod'e_ watched.

The rest of the Jedi, save Master Dooku, would be returning to Coruscant with them, and Ben found that he, like his men, would miss having Master Plo around. He seemed to steady everyone and everything around him with his mere presence, somehow.

When they'd heard he would be leaving, some five minutes before the Masters began marshaling all of the knights and prodding them in the direction of their transport, all of his _Vod'e_ had more or less flung themselves at their General _Buir_ , trying their best to hug him so tightly he couldn't breathe. The move had gotten a fond chuckle out of the tall Kel Dor Master, who'd tugged at Ben in the Force and wordlessly invited him to join in. Ben couldn't be completely certain of it, but he thought he'd seen Master Plo hand Cody something resembling a data chip under the cover the embrace gave them all. 

It had taken a minute or so for the hug to break, and then Master Koon had slipped right back into his role as the senior Master on this Council mission, getting everyone organised and moving. About half an hour later, he was climbing into his fighter, looking back at them with what seemed to be rather more longing than Ben would have expected. As though he wished he could drag all of them along to Coruscant with him and damn the consequences.

Ben was... considerably less sure how to feel about Master Qui-Gon's departure. For all that he had loved his old master very deeply, his padawanship had been filled with sharp instances of turmoil and misery, most of which had been caused, be it directly or indirectly, by Master Qui-Gon himself. His _Vod'e_ didn't know those stories, and he intended to keep it that way insofar as they would let him. Nevertheless, even just based on what little they did know, they were, to a man, happy that Master Qui-Gon was leaving.

On the other hand, Xanatos' departure would cause him little grief, though he couldn't help but worry that that situation would develop as it had in his own timeline even with the deliberately vague warnings he'd given Master Plo.

With his loyal 212th around him, and his _buir_ and his _ori'vod_ at their backs, Ben knew there was quite possibly _literally_ nothing they couldn't set in motion politically or economically.

But even with the might and influence of Mandalore buoying them and keeping them afloat in this sea of changing history and unknowns, Ben simply wasn't sure what to think about the way his old master approached them rather than the ship's ramp.

Everyone around him -- with the sole exception of Master Dooku -- tensed, carefully hiding their reactions behind their armour and their buckets. His _Vod'e_ all twitched as though they wanted to reach for weapons, and then carefully stifled the urge, and Ben could feel their mingled wariness and dislike rising around him in the network.

Master Dooku greeted his former padawan with a nod, but kept quiet, making Ben wonder if the pair of them had discussed this plan of Master Qui-Gon's in advance.

He bit down on a sigh and shoved his thoughts aside. "Master Jinn," he said as the Jedi came into what would be considered polite conversational range and offered a polite bow. "You wished to speak to one of us?"

Master Qui-Gon hesitated, picking his words carefully, then said, "Ben, I wished to share with you a thought that has been plaguing me, a mystery I cannot seem to resolve, in the hopes that, perhaps, you might help me find the answers I seek."

Well. That was as far from anything Ben would have expected to hear as could be. "What mystery are you referring to, Master?"

Master Qui-Gon took a deep breath and warily eyed the _Mand'alor_ and the _Vod'e_ briefly before he answered, clearly not wanting to overstep and anger them more than he already had. "I feel that there is something _missing_ ," he said eventually. "As though I might have once had it and yet have somehow also lost it, all without it ever being within my grasp. Something torn from me, an injury I never took, yet cannot recover from, myself. And more puzzling still, I feel a strange sensation in the Force -- which seems to point to you and your brothers -- that hints at something _unmade_. Something important, somehow both precious and painful." 

Ben felt his jaw drop, and was glad his bucket hid his reaction. His _Vod'e_ all seemed to be stunned by those words, themselves.

Master Qui-Gon gave him another long look and a nod. "I do not expect you to have an answer for me now, of course. Nor in a rotation, or a week or a month. But should you chance to work out what it is that the Force is trying to tell me _should_ be there? It would be a relief to know what it is that I am searching for, and how it can be healed. Given that I seem to have angered all of you without intending to, I would understand if you chose not to contact me. I leave whatever contact we will have in the future up to your discretion," he said, then bowed to them all and simply turned and boarded the waiting ship without another word or so much as a glance over his shoulder.

Ben stared after him, floored.

"Well," Jango muttered, careful to use their private narrow-band comms, "at least he knew better than to try to demand anything."

Their _buir_ snorted. "He knows kriffing well that if he tried we'd say no immediately. By giving Ben the option not to respond, he evaded that neatly."

Cody grumbled something impolite that Ben knew was supposed to be overheard despite its -- admittedly very minimal -- pretense at being subtle. " _Kaysh mirsh solus_."

Helix scoffed. "He might be a laserbrained holotank commander, but at least he has enough sense not to push his luck."

A short silence reigned as they watched the Jedi complete their pre-flight checks and then take off, the two ships gracefully soaring upwards, out of Mandalore's gravity well and into hyperspace.

"Any idea what he meant, Ben?" Jango asked him.

Ben shrugged. He had a suspicion he did, but now wasn't the time to mention it.

Perhaps it never would be.

"Maybe," he said eventually, "but it's something I'd rather not speak of until I can be certain. If Master Jinn meant what I think he did, then it is a very personal matter indeed, and one the two of us will have to sort out for ourselves."

His _Vod'e_ exchanged looks, managing to meet one anothers' eyes through their buckets -- a skill Ben knew they'd picked up on Kamino -- then all sighed more or less in unison.

"Guess that's a problem we'll work on later, then," Cody decided. "Come on, General, Ardanna said she wanted to talk to you about something to do with Wooley's apprenticeship."

Wooley huffed. "This is going to be like having two CO's of equal rank, fighting for my attention," he said.

Ben poked at him in the Force in retaliation, getting a startled squeak and a glare in response. "Kark it, General," Wooley growled. "One of these days..."

Ben laughed. "You're welcome to try."

Jango and their _buir_ exchanged a puzzled look over their heads, and Ben realised he never had explained all the details of Wooley's situation to them -- or to Ardanna. He'd tell _buir_ and _ori'vod_ over the late meal, he decided, and Ardanna when he spoke to her next.

Their armourer surely already suspected at least part of the truth and Ben knew it, but he owed it to her to lay everything out. She wouldn't spread the information if he asked her not to; that was the sort of thing she was good at: keeping important things behind her teeth, if needed, while being very vocal about the things others needed to know. It was part of her very job to collect and disseminate information, as he'd learned.

It would be best to keep Wooley's Force sensitivity as much under wraps as possible until the _vod_ was better trained and in control of his newly revealed abilities, and Ardanna would understand that kind of political and personal consideration. Mandalore, for all that the general attitude towards _jetiise_ was improving now that he was _mando'ad_ , openly Jedi, and very publicly responsible for organising the campaign against the Death Watch -- which had been very successfully concluded with very public assistance from a large body of Jedi Knights and Masters -- was still a dangerous place for a Force sensitive.

Their _buir_ 's protection meant a lot, but it wasn't the solution to this problem. They couldn't solely rely on that. Ardanna, he knew, would be just as protective of Wooley as their _buir_ , though. She adored the _Vod'e_.

Pointing at their parked speeders with his chin, Ben broke the brief silence that had fallen over their group. "Shall we?" He prompted. "I'd say we're done here."


	30. Chapter 30

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

As useful as the _jetiise_ had been, Jaster was kriffing glad to see the last of them. He also knew damn well that he wasn't the only one. 

He liked Ben. Ben was good. His _verd'e_ liked Ben and the _vod'e_ , quite a lot in fact. Ben and Cody had grown on the Council nearly as much. 

The rest of them… Well. They inspired a lot of mixed feelings. 

Jaster hadn’t been particularly thrilled that Master Dooku was sticking around, but over the past month or two, he'd come to appreciate the man. Master Dooku was foreboding, a little standoffish, and formidable, both in the Council room and on the battlefield. He was also intelligent, reasonable, and relatively straightforward. For a _jetii_ anyways. If interacting with Ben had taught Jaster anything, it was that the _jetiise_ were on a different scale for that sort of thing. 

The _jetii_ hadn't been friendly, not exactly, but he'd clearly been positioning himself as an ally for Ben, and as far as Jaster could see, he was being genuine with that request. They seemed to have found some common ground with their concern over Ben and the _vod'e_.

The _vod'e_ themselves seemed to be tentatively in favor of the man. Jaster was coming to trust their instincts on such things. 

For Dooku's part, he seemed to be just as relieved that the Death Watch campaign was wrapping up as Jaster was. That was really saying something, since Jaster was very aware that the month he'd gotten his _ad'ike_ to agree to stay in Sundari was nearly over, and he knew he was lucky they'd stayed out of the fight for that long. 

Two days after the _jetiise_ had left, going back to Coruscant since the campaign was nearly over -- as had been the agreement -- there was a particularly bad Council session. 

Bad enough that by the time they'd finally finished debating and arguing and dealing with logistics and the other assorted issues that had come up, they'd already missed latemeal. Jango had already made their excuses to his _ad'e_ , so he wasn't worried about the younglings waiting up for them. 

Some part of Jaster wanted to head straight to bed. Everything about that council meeting had been karking _exhausting_.

On his way to his temporary room, a better thought occurred to him.

"Jango," he said.

"Yeah, _buir_?" Jango was right there at his side. Kriff, but his _ad_ had done so well the last several weeks. He was Jaster's second right hand, helping out nearly as much as Darist. Maybe more. 

The kid would be a great _Mand'alor_ someday. 

"Let's go get some booze," Jaster said. "I need a damn drink."

Jango gave him a questioning look. As a rule, Jaster almost never drank alcohol in large amounts. For a bounty hunter, getting falling down drunk was like just asking to get shot in the head. Not worth the risk. Not even a little. Jango was well aware of this; he'd been taught to watch out for himself, after all.

"You drinking alone, or hitting up a bar?" Jango asked.

Jaster shook his head. "Neither. You can go hit the sack if you need to."

"No way, _buir_. One of us has to be the Sober Shooter."

Jaster was kind of hoping he'd say that. It was good to have back up. Even here. 

"I'll get the booze," Jaster said.

"I'll pick up some food." Jango gave him an unimpressed look. "Where am I meeting you?"

"Dooku's rooms."

It was maybe a little bit of a gamble. Just a little. They weren't close, not by any stretch of the imagination.

But Dooku would be staying here for the foreseeable future and Jaster wanted to take the measure of him. Not only that, but Dooku was the only other person who Jaster could talk to about Ben and have a reasonable chance of being understood.

Dooku was too much of a politician to turn him away. They'd drink. Maybe it would go well. Maybe it wouldn't. 

Right now, Jaster didn't really care. 

He watched for a few seconds as Jango turned down the next hallway, heading for the kitchens to get the promised calories. Sure his _ad_ would pick out something that would go well with the alcohol, he went off in search of one of his _verd'e_. Kree was part of Darist's Headhunter Company, and surprisingly good at distilling a brew that would strip the sinuses clean just as effectively as a plate of _tiingilar_. He liked to experiment with flavoring. The current batch tasted like apples and gunship fuel. 

The drinks, thankfully, didn't take long to acquire.

Since Dooku had been at the Council meeting with him, Jaster was confident that the man was still awake, despite the time it had taken them to make the slight detour to get supplies. Jango rejoined him as he made his way to the _jetii_ 's suite, three boxed meals in his hands.

" _Mand'alor_ ," Master Dooku said with some surprise when he answered his door. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Jaster just raised up the bottle of liquor. As _Mand'alor_ , he had access to better stuff. The finest alcohol from all across the galaxy, if he wanted it.

He'd preferred his _verd_ 's moonshine. 

"Wanna drink?"

Master Dooku looked at him for a long moment, and then shifted his gaze to take in Jango standing behind Jaster, arms loaded with carefully packaged food. 

He nodded, short and sharp, and waved them in.

"I admit, I'm a little surprised by your visit," Master Dooku said diplomatically as they settled their packages on the table. 

The suite seemed emptier now that the rest of the _jetiise_ were gone. Jaster didn't mind that one bit. He mostly got along with Plo and Dooku, and those two knights in the med center had started growing on him, but he was kriffing thrilled that the pack of Force users had finally gotten off his planet and out of his sector. 

Jaster shrugged at Dooku. Truthfully, he had a lot of reasons for picking Dooku. Montross had once accused him of never doing anything unless he could eke out at least four solid benefits from doing it. Not totally accurate, but true enough.

"Eat first," Jango said, shoving plates at them. He put two glass tumblers in front of them for the booze as well as tall glasses of water. "If you two wanna get shitfaced, that's great, but save yourselves the karking hangover."

"Yes, _buir_ ," Jaster said teasingly. Jango glared at him, but Jaster could tell he was amused.

From the way Dooku's eyes crinkled, he was amused as well. 

Food was distributed. Jaster took a solid slug of the liquor first, and then tucked in. Dooku followed suit, and soon they were eating in companionable silence. Jango had served himself up a plate right along with them and had a bottle of sweet iced-caff to go with it. Jaster gave him an extra nod of thanks and got an easy smile in return. This really was so much easier to do with his _ad_ watching his back. 

Jaster had spent a long time alone. He was grateful for his family, and proud that he could count on them.

"This is about the Council meeting today," Dooku said. He raised his tumbler in a partial toast before taking a sip. The hard wince that followed was expected. "Force, what is this made out of? Rubbing alcohol?"

"Only the best for our illustrious guests," Jaster said dryly, taking another drink himself. He focused back on his food and then nodded. "Yeah, in part," he admitted, answering Dooku's first question. 

Dooku's expression turned understanding and there was a bitter twist to his mouth.

"I admit, I didn't expect quite so many of the captured Death Watch to..." Dooku grimaced and took another drink.

Good. It looked like they were both on the same page today.

"Suicide? Yeah." Jaster spat out. 

"Suicide would have been less unpleasant. They tried to take your people out with them."

They'd done a reasonable job of it, too. Jaster had lost a lot of good _verd'e_ this week. The best they could figure out was that someone in one of the prison camps was a Death Watch sympathiser. Instead of trying to actually escape, the jailed _dar'manda hut'uun'e_ had opted to just cause as much damage as they could. 

The people guarding those jails hadn't been Jaster's front line _verd'e_. They had been the ones who were a little on the older or younger side, ones who had vigor but needed experience, or ones who had the experience but needed a less taxing position. Sentry duty had seemed like a good plan. There had been a fair number of New Mandalorian guards as well. It had been a joint effort. 

Which just meant that everyone was grieving now. 

Jaster tried to shake it off. Their names would be added to his Remembrances. He was _Mand'alor_ , and this was the tail end of a civil war. He was going to lose people. He knew that.

It still hurt.

"You know," Jaster said in between bites, "the crazy thing is that I can't help but think that I'm just kriffing grateful that my _ad'ike_ weren't there. Not out on the front lines and not in that Council room, hearing the news."

The look Dooku gave him was one of total understanding.

"Whoever they used to be, those children don't need more hardship and grief," Dooku said quietly.

"Here, here." Jaster raised his glass for a toast. Dooku and Jango both raised their drinks in response. 

Jaster took a stiff drink and swallowed around the painful burn. The heat from the curry mixed very karking well with the acid scorch of the booze. 

"Good choice, _ad_ ," Jaster said, pointing his fork as his plate.

"Best thing to go with alcohol," Jango replied.

"You seem a bit young for that, Jango." Dooku's tone was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

Jaster and Jango both snorted in amusement. 

"I know what it tastes like, and how to deal with it," Jango said. "And you two are gonna be wishing you were me, come tomorrow morning." He sipped his iced-caff with a very smug smirk.

"Only if we do a good job tonight." Jaster took another drink.

Now it was Dooku's turn to huff with laughter. He still took another drink, though, so Jaster counted it as a win.

"Seriously, those kids," Jaster said, shaking his head. "The last thing Ben and Cody need is for someone to give them the idea that any of this _osik_ is their fault."

"Agreed," Dooku said firmly. "They take on too much responsibility as it is."

For a moment, the two of them shared a look of total understanding.

"I should have expected it, really," Dooku said, turning his attention back to his meal. There was a bitter twist to his mouth. "After Tor Vizsla. The actions of a leader often show the tendencies of the group. I should have expected that his soldiers would follow his example."

Jaster wanted to object, but he was kicking himself over the same thing. 

"Kriffing hindsight," Jaster muttered. 

"We will take better precautions for the rest of the captives."

It wasn't much, but it was something. Jaster nodded.

They steadily worked their way through their meal. By the time they were both on their second glass of moonshine, Jaster was starting to feel a pleasant buzz.

"What is it that you spice your food with?" Dooku asked suddenly. "Chilis?"

He was looking a bit more animated than Jaster was used to. Excellent. The booze was working.

Jaster blinked at him. "Seeds. Ground up seed pods. Some peppers. Uh." 

He squinted his eyes and thought about it.

"There are a few succulents, too," Jango added helpfully. He'd long since finished his meal and was carefully shuffling a deck of cards. "Dried and ground up."

"It certainly is a very effective mix. And bracing." Dooku sniffed and took another drink, wincing again at the burn. 

"Good Mando food," Jaster said proudly. "Donno how you Temple types deal with all the blandness."

"I'll have you know, my good _Mand'alor_ , that Jedi are required to broaden their tastes to include samples from cultures all across the galaxy." Dooku's prim delivery of this statement was somewhat mitigated by the bright flush of his cheeks. 

"Uh huh. Sure. Just because you can choke down anything for the sake of diplomacy doesn't mean you have taste," Jaster shot back. 

The look Dooku gave him was one of barely contained mirth, and Jaster had to wonder what it was he'd accidentally said. 

"Ben said that his former padawan likes to eat bugs," Jango supplied.

Both Jaster and Dooku made faces.

"I guess. If you're starving." Jaster shuddered and took another drink.

"Are you sure that starving isn't the better option?" Dooku muttered.

Jaster snickered into his glass.

"Do you know where I can buy some of this?" Dooku asked, pointing at one of the curry dishes. "The spices, I mean. Something portable and shelf stable."

"You like it that much?" Jaster raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Dooku shrugged. "I can tolerate it, but a good friend of mine at the Temple would enjoy it immensely."

Huh. 

"Yeah, it's pretty common. I mean, every _aliit_ has their own take on it, but you can get generic ones at any market," Jaster said. "Maybe once all this Death Watch kark is really wrapped up you and the boys can go check out one of the local spots. They're living here now, but there's more to Sundari than just the palace and more to being _mando'ad'e_ than just fighting. If you're gonna stay here, you might as well come along."

"Now that is something I'll toast to," Dooku said with a small but genuine looking smile. 

They both drank. 

Distantly, Jaster was aware that Jango was looking more and more amused. He ignored it. Getting drunk was an ignoble thing and everyone knew it. This was payment for keeping guard for them; Jango got to laugh at them. It was an unspoken agreement, and one as old and time honored as any traditional tenet of The Way.

"Speaking of friends..." Dooku paused and briefly looked exasperated. "It appears that my suggestion of a visit from the Temple to here was greeted with an... excess of enthusiasm."

Since Jaster knew karking well exactly what Dooku was talking about, he just _cackled_.

"They're giving you the sad eyes, aren't they?" Jaster chortled. "You found someone they want to meet and now they are emotionally blackmailing the kriff out of you with all the imploring looks."

Dooku set his glass down and covered his face with his hands. 

Jaster and Jango both nearly howled with laughter. 

"Where did they even _learn_ that?!" Dooku whispered under his breath. "And why, Force, _why_ , are they under the impression that this is a thing that might work on me?"

"I mean, isn't it?" Jango asked.

"Obviously," Dooku scoffed. "But most younglings don't even try. I don't look like the type."

"As if a fear response could ever inspire anything other than a direct charge with that group," Jaster pointed out. 

Dooku actually laughed.

"So are you gonna do it?" Jaster said, poking Dooku in the arm. "Gonna drag that kid on over?"

"It's not up to me, believe it or not," Dooku answered dryly. "Master Sifo-Dyas needs to convince the High Council that it's a good idea. Though if young Obi-Wan is half as persuasive as Ben, then it won't be an issue."

Jaster stared wide-eyed at his glass.

Yeah. Half as persuasive. Because they were the _same kriffing person_.

He had no idea how that was even going to work. He also had no idea if Dooku knew that little fact, so he wasn't going to bring it up.

"But you do agree with them coming at all?" Dooku asked suddenly. He'd turned to look at Jaster so quickly that he overcompensated a bit and ended up leaning on one arm.

"Who?" Jaster blinked at him. "Oh, yeah, the kid and your friend. Yeah, sure. My _ad'ike_ are about out of their minds to see the youngling. So if you think _you_ are getting the sad eyes, it is karking nothing compared to what they've been laying on me."

Dooku snickered into his glass and downed the rest.

Jaster was having some issues giving them a refill, but he made it happen. He was an expert.

"Glass of water next, then more booze," Jango said firmly, shoving water towards both of them.

That was sound advice and Jaster knew it. He wanted to get trashed; he could do without the urge to kill himself in the morning.

He drank the water. It was good to see that Dooku did the same. Excellent. He suspected the man had some sense.

" _Jetiise_. In Sundari," Jaster muttered.

Dooku laughed. "Not something I expected, either."

"To crazy times," Jaster said, toasting him with his newly refilled tumbler of moonshine.

"Salute." Dooku tapped their glasses together and took a solid swig.

" _Oya_. Renovations are almost done here." Jaster waved a hand around the room. Perhaps it was more of a flail, but whatever. "These are just guest suites. A more permanent set of rooms is being made for you, since you'll be here for..." He grimaced. "However the kriff long you'll be here. As long as Ben wants you here and you don't piss off my Council, I guess."

"Most kind of you, _Mand'alor_." Dooku toasted him as he leaned heavily on one arm that was propped up on the table. "How did my padawan anger you all so badly, anyways? I'm incredibly curious."

Jaster rolled his eyes.

"Laserbrain helped us pry some answers out of Montross. Which was _good_ ," Jaster admitted grudgingly. "It was just. Unpleasant. Not like _mando'ad'e_ like you _jetiise_ being around. Hell, I make sure Ben has someone guarding him discreetly too, and he's more than proven himself. He's a _foundling_ , and that's important to us, and I still worry about him. But then Jinn showed up and made my bastard ex-second spill his guts like a datapad on project."

Just thinking about it made Jaster take another heavy drink.

"It was pretty kriffed up," Jaster muttered.

"Ahhh." Dooku slumped further into the table. "He does tend to rely on mind tricks a little too heavily." That last bit was said in a low grumble.

"Does he now?" Jaster rolled his eyes so hard that he thought he might actually see the back of his head, finally settling them on Dooku with an unimpressed glare.

Dooku just gave him an incredibly tired expression that very eloquently said, _I know, it's ridiculous_.

"Probably didn't help that _buir_ and the Council asked Ben to give it a try on some of the Death Watch that we caught during the attack where Crys and Longshot were taken," Jango added. "Ben explained what he was doing first and things got a little heated between him and one of the chieftains."

"Oh?" Dooku raised an eyebrow while taking another drink.

Jango absently shuffled his cards and shrugged. "Ben said that he could suggest, but he didn't like to, and pushing too hard against someone's mind would be like rape."

"Well, he's not wrong," Dooku said, shocking Jaster into silence for a moment.

"What?" Jaster managed to sputter out.

"Did you think that reaching into someone's mind and taking things out without care or concern for that person's consent was anything other than a violation?" Dooku gave him an imperious look.

"Well, of course not, but..." Jaster made a face. "Guess I didn't really want to think about it. It's kriffing karked."

"There's a reason we have a Code." Dooku shrugged. "My former padawan is firmly in the Light -- Jedi mind tricks only _suggest_ , they never _compell_ \-- but I can see how his actions upset everyone. Especially with that new context." He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

They drank in silence for a moment.

"My new _ad'ike_ have had a difficult time of things," Jaster said slowly. He trailed a finger around the rim of his glass.

"So it seems," Dooku said in a very somber tone.

"You add to that and I'll gut you." Jaster kept the words light. He didn't need to growl them out. That was for amateurs. The threat was real and they both knew it.

Dooku's eyes flashed dangerously. There was the man who led battles from the front, who plowed through _verd'e_ and durasteel alike with terrifying determination.

"Likewise, _Mand'alor_. Likewise." Dooku has a vicious little smile on his face.

For whatever reason, that actually made something warm pool in Jaster's stomach, and a little grin stretched across his face. 

They were on the same page. Excellent. 

"Did you two just bond over death threats?" Jango asked, incredulous. 

They both grinned wider and toasted. 

"So it would appear," Dooku said, nearly laughing.

Jaster couldn't figure out if he was laughing or drinking or both. It was good, though. 

Maybe this all would work out alright.

\--- POV: Jango Fett ---

Jango refilled his sweetened iced-caff and watched his _buir_ and the _jetii_ get increasingly drunk.

He wasn't terribly worried. Jaster didn't drink very often, and when he did he always made sure that he had someone watching out for him. It was a very controlled way to lose control for a short while.

Jango was mildly surprised that his _buir_ had picked Dooku to go drink with. He'd expected Darist, or maybe Ardanna.

When he thought about it, though, it made sense. Jaster really did have a limited number of people he could talk to about the _vod'ike_ , and Dooku was also cleared to know the details about the Death Watch campaign.

While they all sat around and talked, Jango tried to puzzle out what else his _buir_ might be up to. Knowing Jaster, he had more than one goal.

Conversation flitted around from subject to subject, sometimes light, sometimes not. As the booze started to soak in, the two men grew more companionable.

 _Buir's testing him_ , Jango realized.

Dooku would soon be in a mentoring position to Ben. Everything so far had pointed to the _jetii_ being a reasonably good choice for this, but Jaster was a canny _verd_. He probably didn't think that Dooku would slip up while drunk. The _jetiise_ were famous for their self-control. But he'd told Jango many times over the years that much could be learned from simple conversation.

He was taking Dooku's measure.

From the easy way that Jaster kept drinking and the way conversation flowed back and forth, he was satisfied with what he was seeing.

If Jaster had been truly wary of the _jetii_ then he would have shared a quick shot or two and they would have been on their way. It was too much of a risk to get trashed in front of someone he didn't trust to defend him in case of an attack, even with Jango there. That was just common sense for a bounty hunter. Jaster had drilled those rules of safety into Jango's head himself.

The death threats seemed to be the real turning point in the conversation.

Jango didn't know why he was surprised by that.

A couple of hours in, his comm blinked.

It was Cody. Just a simple text based message.

 _We noticed that you and_ buir _haven't come back from the Council meeting yet. Everything alright?_

Jango typed back, _Everything is fine,_ vod'ika _. Rough meeting._ Buir _is getting smashed with Dooku. I'm playing Sober Shooter for the night. We'll be turning in late._

He left his comm out and waited for the inevitable worried response.

Sure enough, Cody had gotten back to him within a minute.

_He's drinking with DOOKU? What happened?_

_I'll fill you in later. Until then, I've got this._

There was a longer pause. Jango waited it out.

 _We'll check in periodically,_ came the inevitable response.

Yeah. Jango had figured as much. The _vod'ike_ were deeply paranoid. Not that they didn't have reason to be.

It still meant that they wouldn't be sleeping until both Jango and Jaster were safely tucked away in bed. Possibly their bed, given how they liked to keep those they cared about in sight.

Just for shits and giggles, Jango started sending Cody brief snippets of the conversation at hand.

 _So get this_ , he sends. _They have spent the last twenty minutes debating the pros and cons of vibroknife vs lightsabre wounds. Cutting vs cauterizing, and which is better to give or take._

There was a long enough pause that Jango decided this must have kicked off the argument among his _vod'ike_ , too.

He drank his iced-caff and watched Jaster slowly get more and more relaxed and Dooku lose more of his cultured rigidity.

Inevitably, the battle stories started. Jango had heard most of Jaster's already, but Dooku's were new. And interesting. He'd never really known what a Jedi Knight was supposed to do.

Apparently, it involved a lot of banthashit. Lots of people screwing them over, lots of people who really, really needed help, and lots of near-death experiences. From the sound of it, Dooku was sent on an awful lot of combat missions. That wasn't surprising, based on how he'd led the charge in that first mine attack.

Jaster told stories of contracts he and Jango had taken. Some of them were pretty funny. Good, light fare for a drinking night. Dooku's answering tales were just as humorous, though his sense of humor ran on the dry side.

Cody pinged Jango again.

 _We're still here,_ Jango sent. _Did you know that Dooku's best friend at the Temple is some kind of fancy researcher?_

 _Who what now?_ Cody sent back.

_Sifo-Dyas, the guy who might be bringing mini-Ben to visit. He and his master are all into crazy Force stuff. Dooku said that while he's out on kill missions for the Order he collects items of interest for his friend._

From the way Dooku was talking, they must be pretty good friends. It made sense, Jango supposed. Dooku was a fighter. If his friend really wasn't, then he wouldn't be able to hit the really dangerous places.

Jango found it weirdly humanizing.

All _jetiise_ were trained to fight and Dooku was clearly on the far end of that spectrum. Yet he had a dozen stories about the little trinkets that he'd found in far off worlds, carefully collected for his more temple-bound friend. Like souvenirs. Really weird souvenirs, since apparently they were all karking Force nonsense.

Jaster, in return, had an endless supply of embarrassing stories about Jango.

 _Oh kark_ , Jango sent to Cody. _Jaster's whipping out the holos._

 _Ha! Good luck keeping your dignity intact, Jango._ His _vod'ika_ was definitely laughing at him. He could feel it.

 _I wouldn't talk so soon. He's started showing short vids of you all playing in the training yard_.

 _That's not so bad_.

 _There is a fair bit of cooing over how adorable you all are_.

Jango sat for a moment and pictured Cody's expression upon reading that. He could only imagine how priceless it was.

"They are lethal," Jaster slurred fondly.

"That is a proven fact, _Mand'alor_." Dooku rolled his eyes and took another sip.

"No, no, no." Jaster tried to lean in and ended up over compensating. His elbow slipped right off the table. It took him a couple tries to get it propped back up correctly. "No, I know they can shoot people, but they are just. So." He squinted and pressed his lips together.

"They are excessively earnest," Dooku finished for him. He knocked back the last of the liquor in his glass and very shakily started pouring more. "Not _innocent_ , precisely, but very pure, in their own way."

Jaster just pointed at Dooku and waggled his finger. Then he shoved his glass over and Dooku topped it off.

"They are going to drive you insane," Dooku said laughingly. "And possibly take over the galaxy."

"Better them than me."

Jango snorted.

"I'm sure they'll give us a world or two to live on," Jaster said in between drinks.

"How generous," Dooku drawled. "As long as they take out the Senate along the way, I think I might retire peacefully."

That just made Jaster cackle. "Crooked bastards, all of them."

"I'm not sure either of us will ever know the half of it, _Mand'alor_ ," Dooku said with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "Politics," he added, sounding disgusted.

Jaster grimaced and nodded. Then he raised up his glass.

"A toast, then, to our new and well beloved overlords."

"Here, here!" Dooku cackled, and tapped his glass against Jaster's with just a touch more strength than he probably should have. Nothing broke, thankfully.

Jango smothered a laugh.

He briefly debated about informing the _vod'e_ of their increase of status, but then decided against it. They would only use it to cause more trouble.

Besides. He might be able to use it for blackmail later.

The next time Cody pinged, Jango was in the process of shoving more water at the drunks. It took enough effort that Cody ended up pinging a second time.

 _Everything is fine,_ vod. _I just had to get them hydrated_ , he eventually sent.

It wasn't that they were being difficult. It was mostly that they kept forgetting to actually drink the water and not just go straight for more moonshine.

 _Are they STILL drinking?_ Cody sent back.

Jango glanced at his chrono. It was getting fairly late. Or early, depending on how he looked at it.

 _I think they are gonna finish off the bottle_ , he sent. _Which is pretty crazy, since it's Kree's washtub-still homebrew. I'm kind of surprised they are still conscious._

He knew his _buir_ could hold his booze, but this was still impressive. That kark had to be close to medical grade alcohol.

_Kriff. Maybe you should break the party up? They're gonna hate themselves in the morning._

Jango laughed and sent back the response that Jaster had always given him when he was growing up.

_That's just the price of the party, and everyone pays up._

At this point, Jaster and Dooku were leaning into each other, quietly sipping the dregs out of their glasses.

Any longer and they might start singing.

Jango didn't know if he could deal with singing. Maybe Cody had a point.

It had been a pretty shitty day, though, and it wasn't often that _buir_ let himself go like this.

Jango shoved more water at them, and this time added in some of the cold curry and noodles from dinner.

"Eat up, you two," he said, prodding the dishes forward. "Dilute some of that starship fuel you've been downing like water."

There was grumbling, but thankfully both men saw sense.

"Force, Jaster, I don't know which burns more, that acid you call liquor or these noodles," Dooku bitched. He did not, however, stop eating.

"Puts hair on your chest," Jaster said, poking Dooku in the arm with his fork.

Jango was dying. Maybe he should take some holos. Just a couple. For posterity. 

And blackmail.

He needed just the right image. He'd have to be patient.

His opportunity came near the end of the meal. Jaster was busy trying to lick the sauce off of his plate, while Dooku was downing the last bit of moonshine straight out of the glass bottle. Both of them were slumped over each other, not quite back to back, but clearly holding each other upright.

Jango grinned.

 _Perfect_.

Maybe this would counterbalance all the holos that Jaster had of Jango's first taste of Kree's liquor. That expression was embarrassing.

Holos safely taken and saved, Jango started packing things up.

"Come on, you two. Time to sleep it off," he said.

Dooku raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. Jaster was still busy licking curry sauce off of his fingers.

"You're out of booze," Jango pointed out.

"We could get more," Jaster said speculatively.

"Vetoed." Yeah, no, Jango wasn't about to sit through another three hours of this.

"Ugh. Responsibility," Dooku muttered, but began dragging himself upright.

Just as Jaster was about to pull away, Dooku grabbed his arm.

"No, no, not yet, _Mand'alor_ ," Dooku said, flapping his free hand in the air. "Come, let me get rid of some of that poison we just drank. You'll thank me in the morning." He squinted at the chrono on the wall. "Later morning. Afternoon? Whenever we wake up."

Jaster glared at him, but didn't even try moving away.

Dooku closed his eyes and sat very still for a long moment.

Jaster raised his eyebrows. Then he looked at Jango.

Jango shrugged. He didn't know what the kriff was going on. He'd ask Ben later.

"There. Drink water. Take some headache pills. You'll most likely not die of alcohol poisoning," Dooku said, firmly patting Jaster on the shoulder.

Jaster cackled and slapped Dooku on the back. "Thanks, _jetii_."

Jango looked at both of them, appalled. "How much liquor was in that bottle?"

Jaster hefted the large glass jug and frowned. "Hm. It was full."

"And now it is not. We have done our jobs well." Dooku sounded rather satisfied. He looked about two seconds from falling over.

Right. Whatever.

Jango moved around the table and pulled Jaster's arm up over his shoulder. A little lift later and they were both standing. Or rather, Jango was standing. Jaster was leaning heavily.

"You able to get to your bed?" Jango asked Dooku.

Dooku waved dismissively at him. "I'm well enough. Though I won't be getting up early for breakfast." To prove the point, he staggered upright and weaved in place. "Excellent time. Very enjoyable. We'll have to do it again."

His words were a bit curt, but he had a warm smile on his face.

Jaster nodded and waved the empty jug at him.

"G'night, Master Dooku," Jango said. "I'll let the servants know not to disturb you before you call."

That earned him another wave, and then Dooku staggered off into the hall towards the bedroom.

Jango snorted and started to drag Jaster out of the suite. Servants could clean up the leftovers sometime tomorrow. _Buir_ was his primary responsibility.

Before they stepped out, Jango took a moment to comm Cody.

_All done here. No casualties. I'm dragging him back to his room._

_Bring him to our rooms. Helix wants to take a look at him_ , came the immediate response.

Jango laughed to himself. He'd called it.

Maybe he'd get a few more revenge holos out of this.

He also paused to take a moment to contact the _verd'e_ currently on watch in this part of the palace.

Rumors would be running crazy about this. That was inevitable. The _Mand'alor_ drinking with a _jetii_? That was news. Better to nip it in the bud and get some real information out, thus circumventing the worst of the stories.

He assigned a few more guards for the halls, knowing that they would be in place quick enough to see Jango drag his _buir_ towards a bed. Jaster was trashed, but he was still in all of his armor and Jango was with him. Rumors of the losses today would have long since spread, so people would very quickly assume that Jaster had gotten carried away with his Remembrances and indulged too much. Nothing shameful about that, especially with the losses so fresh.

Hell, this might even give Dooku a little boost in reputation. Being the _Mand'alor_ 's drinking buddy was a good endorsement.

Jango paused to wonder if that was one of Jaster's goals for this whole night. He'd gotten a good read on Dooku, presumably, and exchanged threats of bodily harm. Now that they'd sorted themselves, Jaster had also neatly found a way to tacitly welcome Dooku into their social circle, thus further smoothing the way forward. All without ever actually _saying_ anything about it.

If that was his intention, it was cleverly done.

"Damn, _buir_ , you are heavy," he grumbled.

"You're strong, _ad_. I trust you."

Jango couldn't help the burst of burning pride that swelled up at that.

Sure enough, he ended up nodding to the _verd'e_ guarding the halls. He could _feel_ the gossip just waiting to spread.

Helix was waiting by the door for them.

" _Ad'ika_!" Jaster said happily, holding up his empty jug in salute.

"Sith-hells, _buir_ , I could smell the booze on you from down the hall," Helix bitched. He ran over to grab ahold of Jaster's waist on the other side, speeding up the process of moving them into the suite.

"Smells like victory," Jaster said, shaking his empty bottle again.

"Smells like _something_ ," Cody said dryly.

As expected, Ben and the rest of the _vod'e_ were perched around the sitting room.

Jango promptly dropped Jaster into a chair, where he landed with a soft _ohff_.

"My _ad'ike_ ," Jaster said with a wide smile. The smile dropped. "You should all be sleeping."

"You're one to talk, _buir_ ," Helix said dryly. He grabbed ahold of Jaster's chin and peered into his eyes, then waved a finger in front of his face. Probably testing how drunk he was. Jaster tolerated this with an indulgent smirk.

"Dooku, _buir_? Really?" Boil asked, handing Jaster a full glass of water.

Waxer took the opportunity to pry the empty liquor jug out of Jaster's hand. He took a whiff of the alcohol vapors coming from the opening and then flinched back, grimacing. "Force, this thing must hold a couple liters. How much was in here when you started?"

"Nearly full," Jaster said. He'd managed to grab the glass of water, but couldn't quite keep it upright. Jango had to rescue it, holding it steady for a moment while Jaster got a better grip. 

"How are you not dead?!" Helix glared at him, offended.

Jaster just rolled his eyes and drank his water. A little spilled, but most of it actually got in his mouth so Jango counted it as a win.

"Dooku said he did something," Jango said, sinking into his own seat for a moment. He gratefully leaned his head backwards and closed his eyes. It had been a long kriffing day. "Although he didn't do it until right before we left. Said that it would probably keep him from dying."

" _Ad_. You wound me." Jaster held a hand to his chest and made a valiant attempt to look offended. "You know I can drink every one of my _verd'e_ under the table."

Ben actually let out a relieved breath. "Ah. Good. Then he helped cleanse some of the toxins in _buir_ 's system."

The look Helix gave him demanded an answer.

"Jedi can use the Force to help cleanse their body of poisons," Ben explained. "It's a type of Force healing that everyone is taught, though some are better than others at it."

"That explains how you could keep up with the men during drinking competitions," Cody said speculatively.

Ben smirked at him.

"Wait, then why doesn't it work on heavy grade narcotics?" Helix asked. "I know you can get knocked out with them."

"It still takes effort to do. Which is also why it doesn't really work on injected Force suppressants. It also takes time, and the less proficient one is, the more time it takes. So a drug that has a near instant effect would be exceedingly difficult to purge."

Jango rubbed his hand down his face. "I don't even want to know how you know that heavy grade narcotics work on him." 

"Yeah, you probably don't," Longshot said quietly.

A few of the other _vod'e_ winced. Ben looked serene as ever.

Helix moved on to checking Jaster's pulse and watching his chrono. "You take any painkillers yet, _buir_?"

"Not yet. I'll get some before I fall over," Jaster said, waving his empty glass around in a way that was both dismissive and vaguely worrying.

"I'm on it," Crys said as he disappeared into the bedroom.

"Back to the matter at hand," Ben said. "Dooku, _buir_?"

The humor in Jaster's face fell away, and he nodded seriously. "Yeah. It was necessary to set up for his stay here." Then his expression grew pained and bleak. "And today was a kriffing bad day."

He somehow managed to look even more boneless in his seat, slumping down until his chin was nearly rested on his chest and his eyes were downcast.

Jaster had never looked old to Jango. Objectively, he wasn't that far along in age. Mid thirties. Experienced enough to be a good leader and young enough to lead from the front. He was _mandokar'la_ in spades. He _burned_ with passion, when the circumstance called for it. The indomitable heart.

In this moment, all his years seemed to weigh on him. He just looked so kriffing _tired_.

"What happened?" Cody asked.

Jaster shook his head. "Not now, _ad_. I'll tell you when I'm sober."

Cody glanced up at Jango and Jango gave him a slight nod. He'd fill them in the moment Jaster was out. Cody nodded back. Message received.

"Come on, _buir_ ," Cody said, pulling Jaster up. "Go hit the ‘fresher. Clean up. Boil, Waxer, help him with his armor."

"Awww, _ad_ , I'm fine," Jaster said with a little grin. His ill mood had vanished like mist in the morning.

"We know, _buir_ ," Waxer said, dragging him along anyways.

"We're just gonna help," Boil added.

The moment they were out of the room, Cody and Ben both turned their attention to Jango.

Suddenly, Jango felt breathtakingly tired as well.

"There was an attack at one of the prison camps we were keeping the Death Watch in. Not from the outside." Jango had to pause and find the right words. "We think someone on staff was a sympathizer. Rather than attempt to escape, the captured Death Watch just went creating as much collateral damage as they could. Coordinated suicide runs. Jaster lost most of the experienced _verd'e_ posted there. Some younger _verd'e_ , too. It was supposed to be an easy posting."

"Kriff," Helix exhaled softly.

Cody's face turned stony, and Ben looked wounded.

"Yeah," Jango said. "New Mandalorians lost several guards, too. Lots of damage all around. Dooku was there at the meeting today and heard about it. Probably explains why he wanted to drink it out, too."

"It does," Ben said quietly. He looked about a hundred years older than he should, and there was a guilty cast to his expression.

Jango stood up, marched over to Ben, and grabbed his shoulder. " _This is not your fault_."

Ben opened his mouth to object but Jango shook his head, cutting him off.

"No. You didn't do this. You aren't responsible for this. Not in any way. This was on Death Watch and only them. You aren't the one who killed those people, you aren't even the one who set up those camps. You literally had _nothing_ to do with this."

"But I could have --" Ben started.

Jango squeezed his shoulder. "No, you couldn't. Stop trying to take responsibility for things that are beyond your control."

Ben still looked unhappy, but he didn't argue.

That would have to do. Jango pulled him in for a hug. 

"I'll make you a deal, _vod'ika_ ," he whispered. "You and your _vod'e_ give it a rest and promise not to feel like this is on you," he gave Cody a sidelong glance, making sure that the _vod_ knew that he was who Jango was talking about, "and I will show you the holos I took of _buir_ and Dooku."

Ben let out a huff of amusement and some of the tension leaked out of him.

The rest of the _vod'e_ perked up, and looked at Cody with wide, hopeful eyes. 

" _Commander_ ," Wooley pleaded. 

Cody rolled his eyes and sighed. 

Jango let Ben out of the hug, simply so he could see Ben and Cody give each other long suffering looks. 

He lifted his hand, as if to go for where his holo and comm device was attached to his gauntlet. Then he raised an eyebrow at them. They needed to promise. He wanted to hear the words. 

A little more of the guilt fled from Ben's eyes. 

Ben shook his head. "Alright. I promise to _try_ , Jango."

Jango turned to look at Cody, who sighed and nodded.

"Agreed," Cody said somewhat reluctantly.

"Good. Check this out," Jango said with a grin. A few button presses later and he had his favorite holo projected, the one of Jaster licking his plate with Dooku downing the last of the liquor. "I'm gonna kriffing _frame_ this one."

The _vod'e_ all started cackling, and even Ben was grinning. The laughter went on so long that a couple of them almost looked like they were crying.

"That's, that's _Dooku_ ," Longshot gasped. 

"Oh Force, _buir_ ," Cody smothered a laugh with one hand. 

Jaster wandered back out just long enough to get an eyeful before he was steered back towards the main bedroom.

"Sleep time, _buir_ ," Boil said.

"Yes, _ad_ ," Jaster said back in a sing-song tone. 

"Come on, you too, _ori'vod_ ," Cody said, tugging Jango along with them. 

Jaster balked for a moment, though Jango was incredibly amused to see that Ben just allowed himself to be herded. 

The tugging got more insistent, and Jango yielded to the inevitable. 

The _vod'e_ were very efficient at stripping off armor, including Jaster's. Soon they were pushing him into the middle of the mattress and pillow pile. 

Jango took his damn time getting ready. He didn't want to get stuck again. 

"You sure you want to surround him?" Jango asked. "Might be smarter for him to cuddle up to an empty bucket."

Ben laid a hand on Jaster's forehead. "He's doing alright. It looks like Dooku did enough to keep him from being sick."

Jaster was already three quarters asleep and grumbling happily. 

"My _ad'ike_ ," he muttered. "Best _verd'ike_ anyone could ask for. Such good kids. Gonna stab anyone who looks at you wrong."

Jango barked out a laugh. "You might have to get in line, _buir_. They're just as likely to stab whoever is bothering them, themselves."

"You, too, _ad_ ," Jaster said blearily. "No one gets to mess with my _aliit_."

"We know, _buir_ ," Jango said fondly. 

"Well, at least I know you all come by your protective streak honestly," Ben said as he curled up next to Jaster.

The _vod'e_ laughed quietly. 

Jango waited until they all got settled in before grabbing his holo-comm again.

The annoyed glares that the _vod'e_ had been tossing him evaporated and turned to quiet snickers when they saw what he was doing. 

Jango got several good holos. Jaster had long since passed out, and the _vod'e_ made a good effort to at least look like they were sleeping. 

It was worth the effort to take a couple extra minutes to properly file his ill-gotten gains and encrypt them all, and then Jango threw himself down on the edge of the mattress.

"No squeezing the life out of me," he grumbled. 

"No promises, _vod_ ," came the sleepy response. He wasn't quite sure who it came from and was absolutely sure that it didn't matter.

\--

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Cody let his thoughts wander a little as he waited for his men to join him in their dining area, tracing over the events of the last few rotations.

Jinn's words just before he'd left with the rest of the _jetiise_ had caught them all off guard. The situation that had given their _buir_ the impetus to get drunk with _Master Dooku_ , of all people, even moreso.

Worse still, despite Jango's best attempts to prevent it, Cody had watched his General immediately start blaming himself for not predicting that the captured Death Watch _verd'e_ might make suicide attacks, and seen their _buir_ do much the same. He could understand the temptation, himself, but Helix had (painstakingly) drilled it into his head years ago that there _were_ certain things that were out of his control, and Healer Che had recently backed him up.

The end result had been that he and his _Vod'e_ had had to physically throw themselves at the General and the _Mand'alor_ and hug them, to stabilise their moods. The General's downward spiral had started to drag them right along with him, but the state their _buir_ had been in had done even more to throw them off kilter. They'd only gotten a glimpse of his bleak, grim expression before he'd managed to shove it aside, but the sight had made Cody ache, somewhere under his sternum.

In the aftermath, Cody had resolved that their General's younger self _would_ come to visit them. And if the Jedi Council tried to prevent that, they would go to visit their Cadet. Meeting the younger Kenobi would doubtless bring a smile to their _buir_ 's face just as much as it would delight would every last _Vod_.

All of them could use that bit of happiness, after all the trouble they'd had with Death Watch and the damage that those _dar'manda hut'uun'e_ had wrought. There had been so much senseless death and destruction. Just because those _shabuir'e_ had known that they could kriffing inflict it.

"Hey, _Vod_?" Wooley prompted him, making Cody belatedly realise that all of his _Vod'e_ had entered the room without drawing his attention and every last one of them was watching him with a look of worry on their face.

"Check in with us," Waxer requested, his voice quiet and even.

He carefully shoved all of his planning back aside and shook his head. "My thoughts started running away with me," he answered, "nothing serious."

Boil snorted. "If you say so, Commander," he said, disbelieving and projecting that through the network, but willing to accept the statement as true for the time being. "You called us here for a reason, though. What was it?"

Cody held up the data chips Masters Plo and Dooku had separately handed him and felt his _Vod'e_ come on point, their attention well and truly caught. "We have an in," he said. "A foothold in the Temple's comms bank. Now we need to solidify our position and set up a forward operating base. _Vod'e_?"

Crys smirked and held out one hand. "Sounds like a job I can sink my teeth into, Commander," he commented. "What am I looking for?"

"Any and all avenues of communication we can open with the Jedi High Councilors," Cody told him. "The General issued us a challenge, after all."

Longshot laughed. "I'll be more use to you drafting a message we can send the Councilors," he said with a smirk. "That kind of slicing is more Crys' specialty."

Already having taken one of the two data chips, slotted it into place, and started poking at the comm unit on his left bracer -- which he'd heavily modified, Cody noticed belatedly -- Crys answered absently. "It's more like information gathering than slicing, and you could've picked it up if you'd wanted to, _Vod_."

"Yeah, but I didn't want to," Longshot answered with a shrug. "That takes a whole different kind of patience than my shooting, and I don't have it."

Boil nodded. "I was never any good at that kind of thing, either," he put in, and produced a data pad that Cody hadn't noticed hanging from his belt. "Got anything we can simply plug into our pads and run with, Crys?"

"Amazingly," Crys said, "we do."

With a flick of his fingers, Crys set his wrist comm to project and displayed a frequency that Boil immediately entered into his pad and saved. "This seems to be the Jedi Order's general comm frequency. I'm pretty sure it's the one they were using for stuff like public relations events and interviews and the like in our timeline. It looks familiar."

Another flick of his fingers had a second frequency joining the first, displayed underneath. "This one is Master Plo's personal comm, which he was kind enough to offer us."

Boil quickly saved that one, as well.

Their _Vod_ deftly slid the data chip back out of the slot on his vambrace and offered it back to Cody in exchange for the other one. The pair of comm frequencies stayed on the display as he waited until he was sure everyone present had either copied down or memorised the pair of numbers, then opened up the second data chip's contents and nodded. "This one contains the same information and a short typed note." 

"What's the note say?" Helix demanded.

Crys simply displayed it on his comm's projector. _Good luck, younglings,_ it read. _Neither of us can, in good conscience, simply hand over those comm frequencies you wish to collect. We_ can, _however, offer you the opportunity to get them for yourselves. It will take some patience and persistence, but it is possible nevertheless._

Wooley hummed thoughtfully, inspiration apparently striking, and Cody could feel their _Vod_ 's suppressed gleeful laughter in the network. "Crys?"

The glee got them a twitch of interest out of the General, who sent them a wordless, _what the kriff are you up to_ this _time?_

The seven of them summarily ignored his curiosity. They had a job to do.

"Yeah?" The named trooper looked up from his comm unit and handed the second chip back to Cody. "What is it, _Vod_?"

"How hard would it be for you to rig each of our comms to periodically -- maybe once every hour -- reissue our message to that general frequency after we initially hit send?" Wooley asked him, his signature in the network feeling like a karking sunrise looked.

Crys laughed outright. "Oh, that's simple. We can even stagger them so that the messages arrive once every few minutes. Once they answer, my script will log their frequency and prevent their unit from receiving any more copies."

Cody couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his own lips. "I like any plan that we can set in motion and then ignore. Proceed."

"Should we also get Master Windu's comm frequency off the General, sir?" Crys asked him, well aware that something like that was significantly riskier than simply messaging the Temple's general comm frequency and filling up their mailbox to overflowing.

Cody considered that. On the one hand, it could very well land them in just as much trouble as Crys suspected it might, judging by his tone of voice and feel in the network. On the other... their General had issued them a challenge, and if he didn't outright expect them to use any and all tools in their arsenal, he really needed to be reminded that they _would_. "General Kenobi never said we shouldn't or couldn't," he said after a few seconds' thought. "And if that was an oversight on his part, the best way to get him to correct the issue is to show him the weakness exists," he replied decisively. "Get the frequency, and we'll -- cautiously -- see if we can use having it to our advantage."

Waxer grinned. "General Windu might not appreciate getting spammed," he agreed, "but one or two text-comms in a rotation should be enough to get his attention without annoying him unduly."

Their plan didn't take long to put into action.

A mere ten minutes later, they had arranged things to their satisfaction and could return their focus to their daily routine while their first messages crossed the void of space, jumping from holonet relay to holonet relay towards the Core.

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

The first three or four responses that they got were simple form letters, copy-pasted and sent to them from the Temple's general frequency by whichever of the Councilmembers' padawans was currently dealing with the Council's inbox.

_Thank you for your inquiry, gentlebeing. We shall do our best to respond with an answer within two standard rotations._

He and his _Vod'e_ had quietly discussed it and decided that this was likely what Masters Plo and Dooku had meant about patience and persistence.

If it was easy to get a hold of the Councilmembers, after all, anyone could do it. What would the point of having this kind of buffer be, if the Council actually responded to requests such as theirs immediately? They'd simply left Crys' script running and sent their single message to Master Windu again, then gone back to ignoring the whole thing.

Someone would eventually answer, if only to stop the flood of nearly identical polite requests that their proposal be discussed in the next session.

The combined stubbornness of the Jedi High Council was pretty legendary among the _Vod'e_ , and they knew it was likely that they would need to put in more effort than they had, thus far, to really get the group's attention. This was just a simple first pass attempt. If needed, they would step up the intensity, but there was no need to overdo things. This wasn't a campaign against a known enemy like the Death Watch who would kill them on sight and needed to be taken by surprise, if possible, to ensure maximum damage was inflicted before battle was joined.

No, their approach on this self-assigned 'mission' had to be much subtler than that. They needed to persuade the Councilors to listen to them without offending anyone in the process. If they pissed off anyone before they got their proposal into the Council's discussions that would automatically bias those Councilors against them and make their proposal less likely to succeed.

Luckily, their Commanders' unique positions near the High Generals had given them more insight into how that august body actually worked than any being ever got that wasn't _on_ the Council, or one of their aides. And, as General Kenobi's second, their Commander had had more exposure to the Council and its foibles than any other _Vod_ but Wolffe or Ponds.

Commander Cody's wager -- that the individual Councilmembers would get either just annoyed or curious enough to reply to their persistent messages -- was based on his personal experience in working with them. Being assigned to a High General that was constantly on the front lines of the war came with certain duties that other Commanders didn't have to bother with. Such as actually attending the occasional Council session, when Kenobi was called on to report on their progress in dealing with Grievous and the Separatist Army -- or lack thereof.

When they did finally get a reply more helpful than a form letter, it was so late in the rotation as to almost count as morning, and it went unnoticed, because they were all deeply asleep.

It was addressed to the Commander, but had been sent to all seven of them, since they hadn't bothered to sign the messages personally. Waxer took a moment to read it while the General was cleaning himself up in the 'fresher and they were waiting for their _buir_ to show up for the early meal.

 _Cody Mereel,_ it read, _unexpected, it is, that contact us in this matter, you would._

Waxer had to take a moment to parse out that grammar before he read further. Oof. Apparently General Yoda wrote the same way he talked.

_Discuss your request in the Council, we must, but good, it is, to know that, during his visit, the initiate protectors would have. Need to continue filling our inbox, there is not. -- Master Yaddle_

... Huh. So there were two Jedi Masters who talked strangely.

Distracted by that, he almost missed the post-script.

_Some swamp cookies, sending you, I shall be, and, someday meet the young Mandalorian initiate, I wish to._

Boil leaned against his shoulder. "You got it too, huh, _riduur_?"

"Any idea who Master Yaddle is?" He asked in return. "And what they meant about cookies?"

Helix shrugged, overhearing them. "No idea. Crys might be able to get us some more information. Or we could ask Master Dooku. Or Master Plo."

Wooley smirked. "Or General Kenobi," he put in.

"We should thank them for the swamp cookies, in any case," Longshot added. "Whatever those are."

"Swamp cookies?" General Kenobi asked mildly, as he opened the 'fresher door and stepped back out. "Who in the galaxy would be sending you _swamp cookies_?"

The Commander shrugged. "Master Yaddle, apparently," he answered with a slightly smug air. "Do you know who that is, General? We don't recognise the name."

Kenobi had gone still the moment the Commander had said the name, and stared at him. "How the _kriff_ did you pull that off?" He muttered, not really expecting an answer, then shook his head. "I know _of_ her. Master Yaddle is... well, she's Master Yoda's opposite in many ways, based on what I heard as a padawan. Or was. I never knew her well. After the Battle of Naboo, where the Sith revealed themselves to us and the Council first took even a halfhearted interest in my existence, she took a less and less active role in Temple politics. She'd given up her seat on the Council by the time the Clone Wars broke out."

That was... interesting. Waxer nodded thoughtfully, filing that information away for possible future use. "And what are swamp cookies, General? I've never heard of them."

Kenobi legitimately shuddered and made a disgusted face. "I would strongly recommend against eating them unless you have burned away your senses of smell and taste. It's a speciality from her home planet, and just the scent alone turns my stomach. Master Yoda seems to love them."

Waxer felt more than saw his _Vod'e_ exchange looks and shrug.

"Can't be much worse than ration bars," Boil suggested.

"They're your stomachs to abuse as you please," Kenobi told him firmly. "I want nothing to do with those cookies."

The Commander made an amused sound. "It would be rude not to at least open the box and make the attempt," he pointed out. "If we have to, we can let Helix come up with some kind of medical excuse for us. Maybe something to do with the fact that we're engineered."

Their medic snorted. "Scientifically speaking, usually when the smell or taste of something makes you want to vomit, that means there's something in it that's toxic to your system," he said, "so I'd be inclined to do a thorough scan of these cookies first, just in case, considering General Kenobi's reaction to them. Who knows what kind of weird ingredients there are in that recipe. Your convenient excuse might actually turn out to be the truth, Commander."

Their discussion -- thankfully -- was interrupted by the arrival of their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ with the early meal, and the topic shelved.

A few hours later, to Waxer's surprise, midway through the rotation, they got a second and third comm. Each successive one had made the Commander and Wooley look more self-satisfied and General Kenobi more genuinely astonished.

 _Commander Cody,_ the second comm read, _I must say, it is really quite a bold request you make, but also quite a well-structured and well-argued one. Rest assured, it will get discussed at our next meeting. -- Master Fisto_

The third response had had more than one _Vod_ grinning.

 _I don't know how the kriff you got this comm frequency out of your General,_ Waxer read and felt the irritation seemingly wafting up off the words, _but put it back, and stop trying to harangue me about this._

It wasn't signed, but he knew it had to be from Master Windu.

They were all distracted from their collective amusement by the arrival of their _buir_ , Jango, and Master Dooku.

Kenobi and the Commander had taken the Master's appearance more or less in stride, but Waxer could feel the mingled confusion, mild unease, and surprise that was trickling through the network. None of them had expected to see Dooku show up with their usual late meal companions, and then their _buir_ proved to them that he was definitely getting better at reading their expressions.

"Is something the matter, _ad'ike_?" He asked.

"Not on my part," Kenobi replied, bowed to Master Dooku, and let the Commander answer for the _Vod'e_.

The Commander shrugged. "Nor mine, though it's a surprise to see you, Master Dooku."

Dooku gave them all an amused look. "I was invited," he said simply, "and saw no reason to turn it down."

"That's because there was none," their _buir_ informed Dooku archly.

"You didn't bring another jug of that liquor," Dooku pointed out, an almost teasing lilt to his voice that made Waxer stare openly, "some would argue that that was reason enough."

Jango rolled his eyes at them. "Don't corrupt my _vod'ike_ , like that," he said firmly. "They might be war veterans, but that's off-limits."

Master Dooku blinked at him, surprised. "You didn't think I was serious, did you? Hrmm. You did. I can see it in your face."

"He's not going to corrupt my _Vod'e_ ," General Kenobi jumped in. "They're quite well educated on the topic already."

Jango gave him a dirty look. "That was before you all got so much younger overnight. It's bad enough that Helix allows you all to drink caf. Bathtub booze is a step too far."

The Commander cleared his throat. "Maybe we should eat before the food goes cold?" He suggested.

Waxer nodded. "Come on, _Vod'e_ , let them argue. We can get the food dished up, meantime."

"We weren't _arguing_ ," their _buir_ protested.

Kenobi snickered at him. "I hate to say it, but you definitely were."

"We got our arguing out of the way three rotations ago," Master Dooku spoke up as Waxer followed the others out of the room.

The statement got a snort out of Jango. "You two made death threats at one another, decided that was enough of a bonding moment to consider one another friends, and then proceeded to get so drunk you don't remember much of the night that followed."

The General sputtered and burst out laughing and the conversation halted briefly while he got himself back under control. Waxer tried to listen in, but the rest of their words were just indistinct enough to turn into an indistinct background murmur.

Then, just before they sat down to eat their late meal, a fourth message came in. They'd just finished laying place settings for everyone when it had arrived, and the simultaneous ping of their seven respective comms had gotten everyone's attention.

Waxer immediately opened and read it, alongside the Commander and Helix.

_Young Obi-Wan was exceedingly pleased to hear that you wished to extend your invitation, and has asked me to tell you he will do his best to persuade the Council. I must say, I am quite curious to see how this unfolds. -- Master Sifo-Dyas_

"The kriff?" Jango muttered. "I thought the only people who had comm frequencies for all seven of you were in this room or Master Plo."

That was four out of twelve that they'd at least managed to get their message out to, even if what the _Vod'e_ had to say on the matter of Obi-Wan's wish to come visit them was likely going to simply be ignored in the face of whatever politics ruled the Council. With Master Plo, that made five Councilmembers that they could now reach if anything truly did go seriously wrong, and Waxer was sure that Crys could find a way to get the rest of the Councilors' frequencies too, if they were needed.

He couldn't quite believe it, though.

Wooley's plan had been far more effective -- and efficient -- than he'd dared hope.

"Well, not anymore," Waxer replied, and had to attempt to hide his amusement as he reread the message. "General Kenobi issued us a challenge. A dare, which I believe we've won."

"You what?" Kenobi gave them all a skeptical look. "There's no way."

Master Dooku, looking very curious indeed, asked the question Waxer knew karking well Jango and the _Mand'alor_ wanted to pose. "What challenge was this?"

The Commander, very pleased with himself and the _Vod'e_ , answered easily. "General Kenobi thought we had little to no chance of getting the Council to respond to us, and yet..." He held up his comm and displayed the four messages they'd received over the course of the day.

The General, when he'd learned whom the messages were from, had drawn himself up, looking affronted.

" _How_ exactly did you pull this plan off?" Kenobi demanded of them again, voice intent and almost indignant.

"What do you mean, Ben?" Jango asked, curious. "What plan?"

"I've rarely ever managed to get responses to my messages out of the Jedi Council for non-urgent matters in less than ten standard days, and somehow my _Vod'e_ got them to answer within _one_ ," Kenobi answered, sounding extremely put out. "And not just one of their members, either, but _four_."

Master Dooku snorted, his eyes sparkling with his amusement. "They are not, as a rule, known for fast decisive action. I must admit to being quite curious, myself."

The Commander smirked right back, entirely unafraid of the intimidating master. "It was simple, really."

Kenobi gave him an expressively unimpressed look. "Well?"

Wooley nodded. "It was. All we had to do was spam the Temple's general comm frequency until it got escalated and someone answered."

Jango outright cackled. "Oh _ka'ra_. You didn't."

Master Dooku actually dropped his dignity enough to _laugh_ , albeit briefly. "Very cleverly done, younglings. That will certainly give Master Sifo-Dyas and young Obi-Wan an opening to exploit." 

Boil and Helix high-fived one another. "Good enough for us," Boil remarked. "All we wanted was to find a way to make them pay attention."

"Well, you certainly managed that," Master Dooku replied, "but now you must be prepared for some retaliation."

Crys grinned back. "What retaliation? One of the Masters said she'd send us cookies."

"Cookies?" Jango's head tilted as he thought that over. "That doesn't sound like retaliation to me."

Master Dooku's expression went grave. "Master Yaddle's swamp cookies are infamous among the Temple's initiates."

"Why's that?" Wooley wanted to know.

"Because many have compared them to biological weaponry," Master Dooku said drolly. "She has adjusted the recipe, which originates on her home planet, so that it contains no ingredients toxic to humanoids, but they are nonetheless not an experience for the faint of heart to dare."

The Commander shot Kenobi a look, and got a nod.

"It's true," he said.

Skeptical himself, their _buir_ shook his head. "You're exaggerating."

"You'll see," Kenobi replied, and picked up his fork.

The Commander looked thoughtful up at a corner of the ceiling, then said, "Well, I guess we'll find out for ourselves soon enough. If they're really as good as you say they are, we'll have to find something to send her in return."

Waxer nodded. "I can get behind that plan," he said, "but it's a shame we can't ask Commander Fox for an assist. He still owes us for that time with the senator from Ord Mantell."

Boil sighed. "Fox would've known just what to do, and how to do it. That _Vod_ has the most ridiculous connections. I wish I knew how he managed it."

"We should send her flowers," Crys mused.

"Flowers?" Longshot prompted him. "What's the catch?"

"The most obnoxiously smelly flowers we can get our hands on," Crys explained with an innocent look. "There's some breed I've read about on the holonet, I forget their name, that looks amazingly pretty but all accounts say they smell like corpses."

Longshot cackled. "Sounds perfect."

Everyone around the table was smiling. Even General Kenobi, who offered, "I believe those are called atesolaina blossoms. They're difficult to get a hold of, even on Coruscant, but it's possible."

Wooley turned to Crys. "You up for another mini-mission, _vod_?"

"Pretty sure I can work something out," Crys said, his eyes focused on something only he could see as he thought the problem over. "Let's see what these cookies are like, exactly. In the meantime, I'll track down what we'd need."

Their _buir_ and Master Dooku exchanged a look.

"Think we could arrange to get a holo of whatever happens when this goes down?" Their _buir_ asked.

"My good friend Master Sifo-Dyas would probably be willing," Master Dooku replied.

All of them startled when seven comms pinged simultaneously again, interrupting their conversation.

The Commander took the initiative to open the message, took one look at the contents, and froze. " _Kriff. Vod'e_ you _need_ to see this."

That got everyone's full attention.

What in the galaxy could have made their steadfast Commander react like _that_? Waxer reached for his comm to open the message for himself.

The sight that met his eyes was quite possibly the most beautiful one he'd ever seen.

 _Young Obi-Wan is quite insistent that I send this to you,_ he read, _apparently there are multitudes more of his brothers in the background. Too many for him to portray. And the strangely shaped equipment at his one brother's waist is apparently a "snack pack". Please give my regards to Master Dooku and your family. -- Master Sifo-Dyas_

Opening the attachment, an image, Waxer had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from making an utterly embarrassing noise. Kriff. That was... That was the Commander. Twice over. As a stick figure wearing a bucket. Those armour markings were distinctive. And both Commanders were holding hands with what could only be General Kenobi, judging by the bright red "hair", with what Waxer was pretty karking certain were hearts drawn above their heads. Off to their right was another pair of stick figures in a similar kind of style. Another General Kenobi, this time holding hands with what could only be Captain Rex, judging by the bright blue armour markings and mostly recognisable _jaig_ eyes on his bucket.

"That is the cutest thing I have seen in years," Boil whispered.

Kenobi leaned over, caught sight of just what it was that had all of the _Vod'e_ so captivated, and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Considering his age, it's quite well executed," he said. "What I want to know is what exactly a _snack pack_ is."

Waxer could feel his General's mingled amusement and embarrassment. Almost none of the emotion showed outwardly.

"Well, show us," Jango demanded, getting the lot of them to look up. "We want to see it, too."

Crys chuckled. "Alright, _ori'vod_ ," he agreed.

Kenobi let his head fall into his hands, bracing his elbows on the table. "What little dignity I had left before this meal is forfeit," he said mournfully as the image popped up on Crys' comm's mini-projector.

" _Kriff,_ " their _buir_ muttered. "I see what you mean. That is just the sweetest thing."

"Master Sifo-Dyas sends his regards," Helix added. "To you and Master Dooku."

There was a brief silence, that Master Dooku eventually broke. "Master Sifo-Dyas has a difficult time making and keeping friends," he said quietly, a hint of menace rolling under the words like smoke creeping along the floor and feeling just as ominous, "if your interest lies only in meeting or speaking to the young initiate, I must caution you not to curry favour there, only to turn around and dash that hint of a personal relationship against a metaphorical rock. His abilities have left him very isolated in many ways, and, make no mistake, if you wish to get to know young Obi-Wan Master Sifo-Dyas will happily assist you in that. But do _not_ make the mistake of believing that the friends he has will not act if you hurt him."

Jango rolled his eyes. "I thought you said you were done with the threats, Master Dooku," he commented.

"I was. But another opportunity presented itself," Dooku replied and leaned back in his chair, apparently satisfied he'd made his point.

Waxer glanced over at their snickering _buir_ , then at his _Vod'e_. The unimpressed look all of them wore made him want to nod. They were all in agreement. As one, they exchanged shrugs.

"Sure," the Commander agreed, sounding bored. "I'll bet it did."


	31. Chapter 31

\--- POV: Sifo-Dyas ---

As Sifo-Dyas had expected, all of the Jedi contingent assigned to Mandalore returned in good order. The two injured knights were sent to the Halls of Healing and the rest were debriefed. To Sifo-Dyas's amusement, most of them indicated that they would take additional missions in the Mandalore Sector if the need ever arose. 

Young Obi-Wan continued to be a regular addition to Sifo-Dyas's life. 

It was strange. But… not unpleasant. 

The child really was sunshine in human form. Of course, the little one was as challenging as all small children were at that age. Endlessly energetic, curious, and unsure of where they fit in the world. 

It was endearing. 

Sifo-Dyas was still grateful that Obi-Wan only sought his company for a couple hours each day. Crèche Master Tinna wouldn't allow more, nor would their respective schedules permit them more time. As a High Councilor, Sifo-Dyas had many duties. He could not have spent all of his time with the child even if he'd wanted to. 

Not that he had the energy for that sort of thing. Sifo-Dyas didn't often sleep well. He dreamed much of the time and those often edged into nightmares or even full blown visions. 

He was also very unaccustomed to the constant social contact. Not many people cared to spend much time in his presence. Not even Jedi. He was too unsettling for them. Probably because they could feel it when the Force decided to grant him a vision, or a hint of one.

So it was a very good thing that Sifo-Dyas was able to have time to muster his energy to give Obi-Wan all the attention he deserved while the youngling was in his care. 

He honestly wasn't quite sure how he would handle a trip to Mandalore. Once he was there, he would have Doo's help, and possibly the younglings', too. But the trip there and back would be several days in hyperspace. Alone. With a five year old.

It would be worth it. Sifo-Dyas knew this for fact. He could and would do it. This was also fact. 

Convincing the Council was something else entirely. 

"There is no reason to take such a young child off to the Outer Rim!" Master Zir hissed. As head of the crèches, Zir was one of the strongest voices opposed to the trip.

"It would hardly be the first time," Sifo-Dyas countered. "Master Dooku and I both went on several such excursions. As do many other initiates, often simply to experience their own cultures or others."

"Master Dooku was padawan to Master Yoda," Master Windu said. "As Grandmaster to the Order, Master Yoda has been expected to attend many such events. You have not yet chosen Initiate Kenobi as your padawan."

"Neither is he old enough for such an honor," Master Zir added.

"No, he is not," Sifo-Dyas agreed easily. "Nor am I ready to take him, or indeed any padawan, on. But a simple trip to a world barely beyond the borders of the Mid Rim is hardly a burden." He raised a withering eyebrow at Master Zir. "Or do you intend to say that you believe me unfit to care for a single child for a few weeks?"

Master Zir bit back their initial response. 

Yes, Sifo-Dyas was well aware that most Jedi who knew of his abilities found him _unstable_ , but he would not take slander, even implied, lightly. He was a High Councilor. 

"Of course not, Master Sifo-Dyas," Master Zir finally said. "It is just that I feel the trip is too dangerous."

"The Mandalorian Civil War has been very neatly wrapped up," Master Plo said. Sifo-Dyas wanted to cast a grateful look at the Kel Dor master, but he dared not show the weakness of it. "Put down in a matter of weeks, no less, with shockingly low casualties."

Sifo-Dyas picked up the thread. "Master Dooku is already stationed there, and young Ben Kenobi and his impressively well-trained family are, as well. That's _three_ Jedi masters, all to watch over one youngling. That seems more than enough."

"Family, yes," Master Yoda said. His pointed ears were curled down and his wrinkled mouth twisted into a frown.

_Ah, I was wondering when he would weigh in._

Master Yoda was the other major problem. No doubt he would disagree with the trip, and where Yoda's vote went, so too, did many others.

"Claimed Obi-Wan, is, by them. Brother, they call him. Outside family ties, our younglings are forbidden from having. Outside ties, we all eschew," Master Yoda said. "Attachment, it creates, which to the Dark Side, leads."

Sifo-Dyas measured his response carefully. He must tread lightly.

He bowed his head minutely to Master Yoda.

"I have already begun instructing Initiate Kenobi on the dangers of attachment," he said, "and he has been receptive. But I feel there may be a cultural connotation that is involved here. The Mandalorians regard family in a very particular way. The term ‘family' is broadened to _aliit_ , which includes everyone within a certain association. One's _aliit_ , or clan, can contain thousands of people."

"So you're saying that this is an important part of his culture?" Master Ki-Adi-Mundi asked. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes in curiosity. 

He had a unique perspective on this. His species produced very few males, and thus the Council had deemed it acceptable that he maintain cultural expectations and have several wives and children. As long as he kept his duty to the Force and to the Order first in his life, the Council had seen no need to object.

It was that nuance that often escaped many members of the Order. Master Yoda in particular liked to err on the side of caution, insisting that most Jedi have no bonds outside the Order at all and only very carefully managed ones within it. His voice carried weight. The subject was far from cut and dry, though, and even the Council disagreed on what exactly ‘attachment' meant and to what extreme the restrictions on it should be enforced.

"But Initiate Kenobi isn't Mandalorian," Master Adi Gallia said, equally puzzled. "He is from Stewjon."

"Planet of origin has little meaning to Mandalorians, Master Gallia," Master Plo said. "They treasure children and adopt them without hesitation regardless of parentage or species. Young Obi-Wan has been having visions of them, and, I think, they of him. They feel he is family of their spirit, even though they have never met."

"Initiate Obi-Wan has never been to Mandalore, has never met a Mandalorian in person, and yet he already is picking up their language," Sifo-Dyas said dryly. "Which has put me and Crèche Master Tinna in the awkward position of learning it as quickly as we can."

"His visions are that strong?" Master Windu asked.

Sifo-Dyas nodded. 

It was why Obi-Wan was sent to him to help in the first place. Of anyone at the Temple, Sifo-Dyas would know the most about visions and their effects.

Force, but Master Yoda didn't like visions. He didn't trust them. He had good reason not to, true. The Temple’s history was full of examples of those who had interpreted their visions incorrectly and further caused disaster. Or, worse yet, had let themselves fall prey to the fear those visions inspired and were lured to Fall. 

However, Master Yoda’s attitude put all those who were cursed with strong precognition at a disadvantage, for they would find little to no support from the High Council or the Grandmaster of the Order. More often than not, those with visions were counseled to be cautious about acting on those portents, and instead focus on the hear-and-now. While Sifo-Dyas agreed with that on principle -- acting without as much information as possible was an invitation to disaster -- some things still required _action_. The Force sent warnings for a reason. Master Yoda did not always, or even frequently, agree.

"They are," Sifo-Dyas said, continuing that line of argument. "Most are benign. Colorful dreams of those who he already feels are his brothers. Some are terrible. Violent. If for no other reason, I believe that this trip will be a vital help for efforts to stabilize him in the here-and-now. With points of contact that he can actually talk to, he can grow up with a firm knowledge of what is real and what is a dream. Right now, he can only guess."

As he had hoped, that argument gained traction. 

Master Yoda did love the here-and-now, a side effect of his deep connection to the Living Force.

Yoda hummed to himself and nodded, though he didn't seem willing to outright agree.

"Good sense, that is," Master Yaddle said, waving a tiny clawed hand at Sifo-Dyas. She often served as a counterbalance to Yoda, and Sifo-Dyas was grateful for it. "Help the child, we should. Guide him, teach him what is real _now_ , so that, make proper judgement calls, he may."

Master Windu and Master Gallia looked thoughtful. Master Zir looked unhappy, but didn't say anything more.

"Consider this, we will," Master Yoda said finally. "Talk with Initiate Obi-Wan, we would like to, in one week's time."

More than a couple High Councilors gave him a displeased stare.

"A week?" Master Even Piell said flatly. "Another week of never ending comms from those terrors on Mandalore?" The tiny Lannik master looked about ready to stab out his only remaining eye. 

"I've found that I have had no troubles from them," Master Kit Fisto said innocently. A little too innocently, in Sifo-Dyas's opinion. He smothered his amusement before it could escape him and be noticed.

"You answered them, didn't you?" Master Adi Gallia gave him a look. 

"It seemed polite." Master Fisto grinned at her.

"Charming, I found them," Master Yaddle said with a crooked grin. "Cookies, I am sending them. Lots of cookies. Eat them, they will. Their impressions of my baking, I wish."

There were some titters of amusement in the room. Yaddle's cookies were weaponizable, and clearly she knew it. 

"Comms?" Master Oppo Rancisis asked. It was hard to tell under all of the hair, but he looked a little puzzled.

"Yes, Master Rancisis. If you bothered to check your comms once in a while, you would know that Initiate Kenobi's newly adopted brothers have been pestering us to no end about getting him to visit," Master Windu said with a scathing tone of voice.

Master Rancisis tilted his head, a dismissive gesture for a Thisspiasian like him. "My padawan manages that."

"The messages are easy enough to filter out," Master Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "And they are hardly the first ones to attempt to get our attention this way."

This was unfortunately true. Sifo-Dyas had had no issues, for obvious reasons, but if the younglings continued this tactic, some of the Councilors might end up resorting to Temple Security to help block the frequencies. 

"All they have asked is that we discuss the matter," Master Fisto said. "Not that we rule in any particular way. That is very reasonable of them, I feel."

Sifo-Dyas would need to dig up some of that seaweed that Master Fisto enjoyed so much. Kit Fisto was a Nautolan, and as a primarily aquatic species there were many delicacies that he enjoyed that were difficult to come by in the Temple. 

Sifo-Dyas had few friends; almost none, if he was being honest. Not even among the Councilors. Few sought to gain favor with him and he seldom did such things for others. 

Small gestures could go such a long way, though, and for this particular matter, Sifo-Dyas wanted to make the effort. Not to bribe. Not only would that be morally reprehensible, but also such attempts would be completely ineffectual. No, Sifo-Dyas would simply attempt to express his thanks. That would not go amiss, he thought.

Very few people looked to him with the light of friendship in their eyes, and young Obi-Wan was one of them.

"Simply respond to the message that the matter is under consideration," Master Plo suggested. "That is what I have done, and I have had no issues."

"Regardless," Master Yoda said with a wave of his gimer stick. "Comms matter not, to Jedi Masters. Our initiates, our primary concern, must be."

"Foundlings are the future," Sifo-Dyas whispered. The words just fell out of his mouth, and he had no blessed idea where they came from. Sometimes the Force did that to him; it seemed now was one of those times. 

Master Yoda startled in place and looked at him, wide eyed, and Master Plo turned to stare at him.

Sifo-Dyas shook his head. "Forgive me, masters. Sometimes the Force speaks and I have little say in it."

There was a long moment of quiet after that as the Councilors considered this.

"Adjourn to meditate on this issue, we will," Master Yoda said finally. "Much to consider, we have. Next week, Initiate Obi-Wan will speak, and we will decide."

That was better than an outright ‘no', so Sifo-Dyas would take it. 

\--

The next week didn't go as Sifo-Dyas planned. Force, but his life never seemed to. An irony, considering that his most powerful gift was Foresight. 

Two days after the meeting where the Council first discussed the potential trip to Mandalore, Sifo-Dyas was struck by a vision.

It was one of the bad ones. 

One moment he was dropping off that hastily acquired package of marine delicacies to Master Fisto, and the next moment was a wash of pain.

The Force slammed into him, staggering him into what he hoped was Master Fisto's arms and not the floor or the wall or the tea set on the table. 

He saw men. Hundreds or perhaps thousands of men. They were fighting, _dying_. They wore white and blue armor, though Sifo-Dyas could barely see it for the darkness that surrounded them. Humanoids in environmental masks shot them down; the glow of cannon fire lit up the strange tentacle-like trees around them. 

_We need to take the ridge!_

He couldn't tell who yelled that, but his heart said ‘Jedi'. Oh, _Force_ , the Jedi at war. 

There was so much death. He couldn't _breathe_ under the pressure it put on him. Each soldier lost was a spark on his nerves, a cry in the dark. 

They were marching forward, but Sifo-Dyas knew that there was only horror waiting for them. Something was going to go wrong. _Badly_ wrong.

Sifo-Dyas slipped into unconsciousness, and was deeply grateful for it.

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Over the course of the next five rotations, after the initial spate of responses from the Council had stopped, things had settled into what he'd have called a holding pattern had they been discussing military maneuvers. He and his _Vod'e_ had gone back to their daily routine, such as it was, and every so often a new 'drawing' had arrived from Obi-Wan. Sometimes more than one in a rotation, sometimes with long gaps in between, but the 212th and the 501st both figured very heavily in all of them.

After the third drawing had arrived, the seven of them had decided they needed to respond in kind and started sending back holos of their training and drills. There was plenty of material to take stills and short clips from, after all. They had access to their own HUD recordings as well as the (surprisingly well curated) collection of footage that was still circulating among the _verd'e_.

Each new drawing that they'd received -- the frequency had distinctly increased after they'd started replying -- had made the network shiver around him with a mixture of amusement and sheer adoration. For his part, Cody felt it was a bittersweet kind of pleasure. All of the art that Master Sifo-Dyas was sharing with them at Obi-Wan's insistence included Rex or the rest of the 501st in some way or another. He'd recognised Fives' distinctive helmet markings in one of the drawings, and that had sent such a strong pang of longing through him, that the network had _reacted_ , sending him the comforting feeling of _home-belonging-calm_.

 _Morut'yc, Vod,_ it had whispered at him, and he'd clung to that for a few seconds, steadying himself, before he'd let go again promising himself he'd do better.

And then, suddenly, what communication they'd had with Master Sifo-Dyas had abruptly stopped, leaving them all confused and floundering.

What had happened? Why had the comms and drawings stopped coming? Had the Council forbidden it?

Waxer and Boil, somewhat predictably, had been hit the hardest by the lack of news.

Refocusing on the scene in front of him, Cody surveyed the room, letting his eyes linger on each _Vod_ as he went. Crys and Longshot, hunched over a datapad as they attempted unsuccessfully to pry some information on the situation at the Temple out of the holonet. Wooley sketching ever more complex and unrealistic armour designs for both Kenobis in an attempt to distract himself. Helix and Boil and Waxer leaning casually against one another as they carefully combed through Master Sifo-Dyas' every previous comm message one more time -- including Obi-Wan's artwork -- looking for clues and finding none.

The information vacuum had set all of the _Vod'e_ on edge, including their General, to the point where their _buir_ had remarked that he needed them to refrain from stealing a karking ship and running off to Coruscant or at least let him in on their planning.

Entirely unfazed by that request, they'd simply looped him in on the updates they had been making to their plans, and kept working, perfecting everything they could. There was no immediate urgency, despite their collective tension. After all, Obi-Wan was still at the Temple. He hadn't been granted leave to come visit them, yet; Cody was karking sure they'd have heard about it in detail, if he had, and his _Vod'e_ agreed with that assessment.

General Kenobi gave him a knowing look, "You're still worrying at Master Sifo-Dyas' silence, aren't you," he said.

It wasn't a question. Cody shrugged. "It doesn't seem like the kind of thing he would do, to just drop all communications."

"You've been exchanging comms for less than a standard week," the General pointed out. "You barely know his habits at all."

"Master Dooku has been worrying too," Boil pointed out, "and he's 'good friends' with Master Sifo-Dyas."

Before the discussion could go any further, all seven of their comms pinged, and Cody reached for his, hurriedly, sure that would be important.

He stopped short when he realised someone had sent him a voice-comm. From _Master Windu's_ frequency. Looking up, when no one played the message, he realised that they were waiting for him to do it.

"Commander?" Crys asked, speaking slowly and eyeing the unopened message like it might bite him, "You don't think that--?"

Kenobi reached for Waxer's comm, and got idly batted gently away as Waxer answered, "Let's hope not, but if _Mace_ is comming us, it might be serious."

Swallowing back his worry, Cody activated the playback on the recording.

The first thing he noticed was that, whoever had sent the file had been in a hurry; it was barely half a minute long.

The second thing he noticed was the quiet hum of lightsabres in the background, and a distortion in the recording that suggested someone was slightly clumsily fumbling with a comm they weren't familiar with.

And then a voice started speaking that felt like it pierced right through him just so that it could wrap a hand around his heart and squeeze.

 _Vod'e_ , his General -- no, _the Cadet_ \-- said, his voice wavering and his pronunciation a bit unsteady, sounding like he desperately needed to be picked up and hugged until he stopped wanting to cry. _I stole Master Windu's comm, 'cause he's busy with sabre practice, which I'm prob'ly gonna get in trouble for..._

Despite the seriousness of the situation and the Cadet's clear distress, Cody almost wanted to laugh as the words briefly trailed off into guilty mutterings. Of kriffing _course_ Obi-Wan Kenobi would find a way to kriffing _steal an encrypted comm_ just so he could send a message to his _Vod'e_ , and nevermind that they were half a galaxy away from him.

 _I don' know what t'do,_ Vod'e _. Master Sy's real sick, an' no one lets me talk to him, an' I'm_ really _worried about him._

Cody looked up just in time to catch Helix's worried eyes, and get a nod. Something clearly _was_ seriously wrong, but Cody wasn't sure it was a problem they could fix, despite the Cadet's obvious faith in them.

The Cadet took a breath that hitched as though he was about to actually burst into worried tears again, and Cody felt something in his own chest draw tighter in sympathy.

 _Maybe,_ he went on, _maybe you could talk t' Master Doo? Master Sy talks t' him all the time an'-- an' he might know what t'do._

Before the Cadet could get another word out on that topic, a familiar irritated voice sounded from behind him. _Initiate, just what do you think you're doing with that?_

Hastily, the Cadet, added, _Ret'urcye mhi, Vod'e,_ his pronunciation of the words abysmal but the meaning clear, then abruptly hung up.

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Yan was in the middle of typing up his latest report to the High Council when he got a comm from Ben. 

"Master Dooku, I'm sorry to interrupt," Ben said. He sounded... off. There was a hint of worry in his voice.

"It is no matter. What can I do for you Ben?" Yan took the opportunity to get up and heat some more water for another cup of tea.

"Do you have time to speak to me and my _vod'e_ privately? There's a... we have a concern."

Yan raised an eyebrow. Most unusual.

"Of course. I am in my suite. I will prepare tea for you all." That would surely go a ways towards soothing Ben's anxiety, whatever it was.

"Thank you, Master Dooku. We will be there shortly."

He immediately set aside his reports. They could wait. Now that the Death Watch was mostly taken care of, very little of it was urgent. 

Before the water was even done, his door chimed.

"Come in, younglings," he said, waving them towards the sitting room. He'd laid out plates of semi-sweet snacks, careful to remember that Cody did not have the sweet tooth that he himself enjoyed. 

He took a moment to ready the tea as the little warriors settled in, keeping a discreet eye on them in the process. 

Ben was calm and collected, but there was a very slight tightness in how he held himself. His _vod'e_ were far more expressive. Physically, anyways. Ben's shields wrapped around them so tightly that they were unreadable in the Force. Their bodies told a different story. They were tense. Wary. They positioned themselves as if waiting for an attack, but not an attack from Yan. 

It was likely an unconscious choice, brought on by general anxiety.

He poured them all cups of tea and distributed them around.

One of the added benefits of serving them liquid was that they were required to remove their helms to drink it, or appear impolite. Even if they chose not to take their helms off, that would give Yan another clue as to their temperament. 

To his relief, they allowed themselves to show their faces. There were a lot of grim expressions there.

Yan took his seat and curled his hands around his cup. He found he wanted the warmth of it. Whatever they were about to bring up couldn't be good.

"What can I help you all with?" he asked.

"Master Dooku, Initiate Obi-Wan contacted us today," Ben began. 

Yan raised his eyebrows in surprise. He'd been aware that Sy was passing messages back and forth between young Obi-Wan and the _vod'e_ , not _entirely_ with the High Council's knowledge or approval, and that the communication was making all parties involved very happy. 

He also knew that while Sy could pass messages with a fair amount of plausible deniability, directly connecting Obi-Wan to his extended ‘family' here would likely cause the Council to censure Sy and ban Obi-Wan from further contact. 

After all, that's what had happened to Yan when he was a child, and even later when he became a Knight. He'd been given up to the Temple at a very young age, but later he and Sy had run into his sister, who was a member of the ruling family of the Serenno Sector. Yan had kept in touch with her, but in secret, for the Council expressly forbade such interaction. 

If Obi-Wan had contacted the _vod'e_ directly, that meant something was very wrong indeed. 

Sy had missed their regular nightly holo call last night. While he’d been a touch concerned, it wasn't... _terribly_ unusual, but now…

"Tell me," Yan urged, now more than a little worried himself. 

"Obi-Wan stole Master Windu's comm and sent us a short message, asking for help," Cody said. "He said that Master Sifo-Dyas is ill and no one will tell him what is going on, nor will they let them see each other. He's very worried and suggested that we talk to you."

Ben gestured at Cody, as if to say, _there you have it_.

All of the air left Yan in a rush.

Sy was ‘ill'. There were very few things that could knock out a Jedi Master of Sy's caliber, especially one stationed in the Temple on Coruscant. Unfortunately, Sy was prone to collapses due to his visions. Yan had very little doubt that that was what Sy's ‘illness' was. 

"I see," Yan said quietly. 

"Obi-Wan said that you and Master Sifo-Dyas spoke frequently. Is there any way you could find out what's going on?" Ben asked. 

Yan stared into his cup of tea for a long moment, and then gave a very tiny nod.

"There is," he admitted. "Sy -- Master Sifo-Dyas has me listed with the Healers as an emergency contact. If he were truly in danger, they would have contacted me. Since they have not, I expect that this is… not out of the ordinary, which means that I can infer what has happened."

Poor Sy.

Force, Yan wished he could be there. Even less violent visions left Sy weak and exhausted. If Yan were there, he could help. Sy was too stubborn to take time off of his duties, but he would let Yan make him food and bring him tea. 

This was an argument they'd had long ago, though. Yan had his own duties and missions to tend to, and Sy would not allow himself to rely too heavily on someone else. 

It was just... there _was_ no one else. Master Lene Kostana helped when she was in system. Sy had stayed with her long after he'd been knighted for just that reason. But she'd been called to the Outer Rim to investigate the site of a potential ancient temple. Her mission would likely last until the end of the year.

"Which is?" Cody verbally prodded him, bringing him back to the present. 

Yan took a sip of his tea to give himself another moment. "Master Sifo-Dyas very frequently has intense Force visions. Most he can recover from fairly quickly. Some leave him incapacitated for days."

A ripple of surprise spread out among the _vod'e_ and Ben looked a touch more grim.

Yan grabbed his comm and typed out a quick message to Sy. He would have holo-ed, but he didn't want their privacy breached by an audience, and it felt rude to leave the children waiting in his sitting room while he made the call in private. 

_Sy. Rumor has it that you are unwell. If you don't answer within the hour, I'm comming Healer Che._

He sent it off and waited. A few seconds went by, and then a holo call came in.

Yan repressed his worry. Apparently, they would have an audience anyways. He'd take minor embarrassment in exchange for seeing directly that Sy was alright.

The life sized image of Sy that popped up was a distressing one. He was clearly laying down, hair in disarray. He must have set his comm on the table next to his bed, because he was on his side facing the comm; the image cut off partway down Sy's blanket-covered torso, giving him the look of a portrait. The blue cast of the holo did nothing to indicate his complexion, but Yan could very clearly see the dark circles under his eyes and his face was the exact same pale color of his sheets. His blankets were drawn up to his chin and he looked like his bed had nearly swallowed him.

"Doo," Sy rasped out. He wiggled a few fingers in hello.

"Sy," Yan said with a small smile. Force, but he _did not like_ seeing Sy in such a state. "I'm afraid I have guests."

That caused Sy's eyes to crinkle with amusement. He always did find it hilarious when Yan was forced to drop his dignity for a moment. 

"Yes, yes, very funny." Yan gave him a look. His faux irritation fled. "Are you well?"

Sy blinked slowly and tilted his head to the side in a partial shrug, and then winced. "Well enough. I'll be better in the morning."

Right. The morning.

That meant that Sy would be barely functional in the morning. Yan set his jaw and took a breath, very carefully not arguing. There would be no point.

"I'm fine. Just a vision. Tell the little warriors not to worry," Sy said. "I know they are there."

"And yet you chose to holo anyways? In your bed clothes no less, how indiscreet," Yan said, dryly teasing him. It was easy banter, the kind that would soothe Sy in its familiarity. 

"Typing is hard," Sy breathed out and closed his eyes. 

Yan tried very hard not to clutch his cup. He wasn't sure that he completely succeeded. 

"Fair enough, Sy," Yan said quietly. 

"I'll be back to ferrying pictures between the little ones soon enough," Sy said, waving his fingers again in what probably was supposed to be a dismissive gesture. "The Council had their first discussion of Obi's potential visit a few days ago. We'll meet up again next week and decide. They have nothing to worry about." 

That seemed to use up the last of Sy's energy and he sank a little farther into his bed.

"Obi-Wan is worried enough that he stole Mace Windu's comm to ask his brothers for help," Yan said, keeping his delivery deadpan.

That caused Sy to crack open his eyes again, and look mildly incredulous.

"He --?"

Yan nodded. 

"But."

"He's worried about you, Sy," Yan interjected. 

"Kriff." Sy worked up enough energy to rub his eyes. And then pressed against his temple. His head had to be pounding. "I didn't think."

Didn't think anyone else would care. Yan was well aware of that.

The silence stretched for a moment as Sy clearly struggled to try and put some kind of plan in place to deal with this new revelation. 

"I'll contact Mace," Yan said. "See what can be done to get our little miscreant off the hook for grand theft." 

"Thank you, Doo," Sy said gratefully. 

Yan looked him over carefully. "... It might do the youngling good to see you. If you are able."

"I'm in no state to watch over a child. And who would bring him?" Sy paused and got a thinking look. "Perhaps Master Fisto."

"Kit Fisto?" Yan said with some surprise. 

"He stopped by today." Sy looked as baffled as Yan felt. The High Council as a whole didn't much care for Sy, though Master Fisto was at least polite. No doubt Sy had more he wanted to say on the visit, but perhaps didn't want to speak of it with others watching. 

Yan shrugged it off. "I'll find someone. And perhaps arrange some food to be brought to you."

Sy's eyes were already falling closed. "Thanks, Doo…"

"Good night, Sy. Comm me when you wake," Yan said. He waited until he was sure that Sy wouldn't say anything else and then he ended the call. 

Force, but it was difficult to see Sy hurting so much.

Yan took a deep breath and sipped his tea. It had grown tepid; Yan didn't care in the slightest. It was something to do with his hands while he processed that bit of information.

It was unusual for Sy to speak so openly with others around. People had a tendency to not believe him when he showed how much his vision impacted him, or they thought that he was overreacting. As if Sy was given to _dramatics._ Just the thought of that was ridiculous. 

The quiet intimacy of their conversation was far more than Yan himself was comfortable sharing, but he would not deny Sy what comfort he could give, regardless of who was in the room. Besides, Ben wasn't a part of the Order. He had no room to speak about attachment with how close he was to his _vod'e_.

Yan took another breath and refocused himself. 

He raised an eyebrow to Ben. "Was that sufficient to answer your questions?"

Within the question was an implied dare for Ben, for any of them, to comment on what they'd seen. It wasn't quite a threat. Barely even an insinuation. Just the slight tenor of a warning. Normally, he wouldn't have allowed himself even that, but Sy's distress jangled against his nerves.

"It does tell us what's going on, at least," Cody said, completely ignoring Yan's tone. The _vod'e_ had also relaxed incrementally. 

"We still need to help Obi-Wan," Ben pointed out. "Or rather, you do, Master Dooku. If you would."

"I already said I would comm Mace." Yan waved a dismissive hand. 

"That would be very helpful, yes." Ben seemed to fidget in place. It was very uncharacteristic. Yan held back a frown and took more careful note. "Would you also try to make sure that Obi-Wan isn't censured by the High Council?"

"What?" Waxer asked.

"Why would they do that?" Boil jumped in.

Yan gave them both an unimpressed look. "Because Initiate Kenobi has stolen the use of a High Councilor's comm and sent a distress message to the ruling family of a Neutral Sector on the Outer Rim, one that is famous for being particularly war-like, I might add, and just as famous for their dislike of Jedi. As I understand it, Initiate Kenobi requested Master Windu's presence in the training hall. Taken in the worst possible light, it could be seen as premeditation for the theft."

" _What_?! That's ridiculous, he's _five_ ," Wooley argued. 

The _vod'e_ were looking more and more outraged. Curiously, Ben just looked tired and unhappy.

"That is not even the worst of it, my friends," Yan said with a shake of his head. "He contacted _you_. People he claims are his brothers. Young Obi-Wan does not yet know the meaning of the word discretion. Nor should anyone expect him to at his age. This, however, does mean that he has been very excitedly telling everyone he sees about his wonderful brothers."

Cody's eyes narrowed. "I don't follow. Why is that a problem?"

"Because it is attachment, Cody," Ben said wearily. "Force sensitive younglings are taken from their families for many reasons. One of the biggest ones is so that they never value their attachments to their families over their duty."

"But he _wouldn't_ \--" Boil objected vehemently. 

"It does not matter," Yan said. "Jedi younglings are allowed no contact with their families. At all. Even knights are forbidden, as I can personally attest. It takes a great deal for the Council to allow even minimal contact. Though exceptions have been made."

"Master Ki-Adi-Mundi has four wives," Ben said. "His species has a particularly low birth rate, and so it is a cultural imperative for him to marry and produce offspring. Thus, he has regular contact with his family. I know of at least one set of twins who both joined the Order and remained together throughout their training. The prohibition is less if the family members involved are also Jedi."

"Excellent examples." Yan nodded at him. "Young Obi-Wan's case is not so cut and dry."

"What's the worst case scenario?" Cody asked. Ever the strategist. 

"Worst case? Initiate Obi-Wan will be put on probation, and Master Sifo-Dyas will be censured," Yan said flatly. "It is unlikely to come to that."

"For caring about his friend?! How does that make sense?" Wooley snarled. His outrage was echoed around the room.

" _Vod'e_ ," Ben said quietly. There was a pained wrinkle in the middle of his brow.

Yan couldn't feel anything in the Force from them, but no doubt Ben could. The _vod'e_ were Force sensitive and Ben was shielding them. Yan strongly suspected they all had Force bonds as well. He would never ask them about it. What he didn't know for sure, he couldn't be forced to report on.

The _vod'e_ settled themselves. It looked like it took an effort.

"I do not think it will come to that, young ones," Yan said again. "Master Sifo-Dyas is a clever man and he will argue eloquently for young Obi-Wan. Master Plo Koon is also on your side, and I suspect that Master Windu and possibly Master Fisto may be, as well. With luck, there will be no negative repercussions."

"If there are, we'll just take him." Cody's voice was like a blade in the dark, sharp and deadly. "They don't deserve to have him, if they are going to punish him for caring."

For a brief second the expression on Ben's face was raw and pained. Then it was smoothed away, gone so quickly that Yan wondered if he'd seen anything at all. 

"I'll talk to Mace, and I'll speak with Master Plo as well," Yan assured them. "I'm afraid I'm not on close terms with any of the rest of the council, but I have other connections. Between Master Plo, Master Sifo-Dyas, and I, I think we will be able to muster a strong defense. He won't stand alone."

That seemed to settle them a little. Yan was under no illusion that they were not already planning a raid on the Temple, just in case.

"Would you also speak to Obi-Wan?" Ben asked unexpectedly.

Yan blinked at him.

"What would you like me to tell him?" he asked.

"You should reassure him. He's worried, and he knows that you and Master Sifo-Dyas are close. He'll trust you to tell him the truth."

Yan sat there at a loss for words. 

His jaw worked for a moment. No sound came out. 

"Ben…" he started, and then had to sit and think for another second. He ran his tongue over his teeth and tried again. "I'm afraid that comforting small children is not within my skillset."

Helix covered his face with his hand and Waxer and Boil shared a disbelieving look.

Ben looked at him like he was a student missing a very simple lesson. "All you need to do is tell him what's going on. A good portion of his anxiety is because he doesn't know what's happening. And trust me, he will want to hear from you, if only to see a friendly face during all of this."

That. That didn't sound terrible. He could do those things.

Yan nodded. "Master Plo. Master Plo will probably help me get in touch with him, if Mace won't."

Just mentioning Plo's involvement made the _vod'e_ a touch less tense. There were more encouraging nods around the room.

"Master Plo is a good choice," Ben confirmed. "Just. Tell Obi-Wan that you care, and that you'll help him however you can. And maybe speak with Master Plo about getting Obi-Wan some things that he _can_ do, that would be allowed. Something to help Master Sifo-Dyas out directly would be good. That will reduce his anxiety."

Yan took a deep breath. "All excellent suggestions. Thank you, Ben. I still have my doubts that I will be anything resembling reassuring," he gave Ben a brief grimace, "but I will endeavour to be so. I'm afraid I have little experience with children that age."

"As long as your intent is clear, then Obi-Wan will see that you're trying and he'll be happy," Ben said firmly.

Yan gave him one more dubious look, but nodded. 

He stood up. 

"Alright, go make your plans, General, Commander," he said, making a shooing motion with his hands. "I doubt they will be needed, but I know that you'll make them anyways. I have a great many people to speak with this afternoon, it seems. I promise to keep you updated."

The _vod'e_ didn't even try to deny it. 

"Thank you for your help, Master Dooku," Ben said with a bow.

Yan waved him off, already busy looking through his comm frequency index. 

\--

\--- POV: young Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

Obi-Wan sat huddled in Master Mace's robe, bundled up on the couch in Master Mace's living room. The tears had finally stopped coming, but Obi-Wan knew that they were right there. Waiting.

Master Mace was very cross with him for using his comm. Obi-Wan had tried to explain. He tried to do a good job. Since Master Mace hadn't sent him to his room in the crèche or called Crèche Master Tinna to collect him, he was hopeful that things would work out.

After his guilty confession and the ensuing upset, Master Mace had him sit off to the side for the rest of 'sabre class and then brought him back to Master Mace's room.

Obi-Wan had never been here. It still looked _really familiar_. 

Master Mace asked him to explain himself again, which caused more crying on Obi-Wan's part. And a little unhappy flailing. He didn't mean to shout, but he did. 

The whole thing rolled around in his mind like one big mess. 

Master Mace left him with some crackers and a cup of blue milk and started pacing in his kitchen. He talked with some people on his comm, too. A lot of people, from the sound of it. They were talking about him and Master Sy, Obi-Wan was sure of it.

Obi-Wan just wrapped Mace's cloak around him and curled into a little pill bug. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he didn't really want to move.

There was a chime at the door.

Obi-Wan pressed farther in to the couch as whoever it was came in.

"Obi-Wan?" The voice was deep and resonant. Master Plo.

Obi-Wan peeked out of Master Mace's cloak. Master Plo was sitting on the floor next to the couch. Master Mace was with him.

"I just wanted t' help," Obi-Wan said, jumping to explain but feeling the tears coming back, too. "No one would tell me what's wrong, ‘nd Master Sy is _gone_ , ‘nd my _vod'e_ always help me in my dreams, ‘nd they are with Master Doo, ‘nd he and Master Sy are friends--"

Master Plo reached over and pulled Obi-Wan into a hug.

"It's alright, young one. We know you didn't mean any harm. We know you're just worried."

"Master Plo is right," Master Mace said, resting a hand on Obi-Wan's back. "Master Dooku did comm me, and explained that you were upset and that no one told you what was going on."

Obi-Wan sniffed and rubbed his face. "You mad?" he asked timidly.

Master Mace gave him a small smile. "No, Obi-Wan. We aren't mad." Relief poured through Obi-Wan like a waterfall. 

Then Master Mace did that thing with his face where it almost looked like he was about to have an expression, but it wasn't _quite_ one yet and whatever look it was _going_ to be would probably be annoyed.

"I'd rather you not steal my comm next time you are worried, though. That's not alright," Master Mace said sternly.

"Sorry, Master Mace," Obi-Wan said softly. "I won't."

"Next time, come to me or Master Plo. We'll help. That's our job." Master Mace rubbed his back in little circles. It felt very nice. Master Plo's arms were strong around him, and that felt very nice, too.

"Is Master Sy ok?" Obi-Wan asked.

"He's not feeling well, but he'll be alright," Master Plo said. "You know how you have bad dreams?" 

Obi-Wan nodded. His bad dreams were awful.

"Master Sy gets ‘em, too, doesn't he," Obi-Wan said.

Master Plo nodded. "He does. He had one that was very bad, and now the healers have told him he must stay in bed for a couple of days. That's why he hasn't been available."

"But he'll get better?"

"Yes, young one. He'll be right as rain soon enough," Master Plo assured him. "Now, Master Mace is going to go deal with some work, and I am going to stay here with you for the rest of the afternoon. Master Dooku said that he would be available to talk to you, if you wanted."

"Master Doo?" Obi-Wan perked up. Master Doo was best friends with Master Sy. The three of them talked all the time and Master Doo was always willing to listen to him talk about classes and 'sabre practice. 

"I'll leave you two to it," Master Mace said with a small smile and stood up.

After he left, Master Plo leaned down and whispered to Obi-Wan, "Between you and me, I think that Master Windu has a soft spot for children."

"What's that mean?" Obi-Wan asked. 

"It means everything is going to be alright, Obi-Wan. We'll help you with whatever you need."

For the first time all day, Obi-Wan's heart lifted.

\--

The next week sped by very quickly. 

Master Doo really did comm Obi-Wan, just to talk to _him_. It made something warm glow in Obi-Wan's stomach to know that Master Doo wanted to make sure he was alright, even without Master Sy there to talk to, too. 

Master Doo was kind of a weird person. Sort of stuffy. But he gave Obi-Wan secret smiles, the type of smiles that he had to pay attention to really see, and he had lots of good advice. He listed a whole bunch of things that Obi-Wan could do while he waited for Master Sy to feel better, and told him he was very brave for trying to help his friend. _Their_ friend. Because Master Sy was friend to them _both_.

That was pretty nice.

Master Plo and Master Fisto both wandered in and out of Obi-Wan's class schedule the next few days. Sometimes just to wave hi, and sometimes to take him to see Master Sy for a few minutes.

Obi-Wan was very quiet for those visits. The quietest, because Master Sy's head hurt. He brought snacks to Master Sy's bed and drinks and then even got cuddle for a little bit, too, which was _the best_.

The first time that happened, Obi-Wan brought his little plushy loth-cat and let Master Sy hold it.

Master Sy hugged it very gently and seemed very happy, which was good, because the little plushy always made Obi-Wan feel safe and happy, too. 

Obi-Wan drew lots of pictures. Master Sy started to feel better, and they started sending more of the drawings to Obi-Wan's _vod'e_.

"Will I ever get to meet them?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I am sure it will happen one day," Master Sy told him as they watched a short holo vid of the _vod'e_ play fighting. 

"Soon?" 

"We'll see. The High Council will be discussing it tomorrow. They want you to be there so that they can talk to you and ask you questions."

Obi-Wan nodded. That was very serious stuff, he knew. He was determined to do well.

"I'm ready," he said firmly.

"Alright." Master Sy smiled his whole-face smile and it warmed Obi-Wan to his toes. 

Obi-Wan really was ready. He'd had dreams about the Council. Weird dreams, mostly, but lots of them.

In his dreams, sometimes he was a little older and he was worried or afraid. Sometimes he was a _lot_ older. Old enough that he got to sit down with them, too, and sit and argue with them all day. Those dreams were very tiring in an irritating sort of way. 

It was those dreams that gave Obi-Wan the most courage. 

The Council liked to argue. They talked and talked and talked. More importantly, Obi-Wan knew that he could argue and talk _with_ them.

He just had to be smart about it.

\--

Obi-Wan waited outside the Council room. He had his little plush loth-cat, Blocky, hugged tight to his chest. There was a padawan keeping an eye on him. They didn't really need to. Obi-Wan wasn't going anywhere. 

The Council room was really high up in the central tower of the Temple. He could see everywhere out the window. As much as he wanted to sit and look, he knew he needed to meditate. 

He took a deep breath and centered himself. Everyone in the crèches had daily meditation. He was used to it. This was special, though.

Obi-Wan was nervous. Maybe just a tiny bit afraid, too. He knew from his dreams that those things wouldn't serve him well in the Council room. He had to be calm. He had to be able to _think_. 

He closed his eyes and brought to mind all his dreams and not-memories. They would guide him, along with the Force. All he had to do was be calm enough to listen.

Some time later, the padawan touched his shoulder, waking him up, and then led him into the Council room.

He almost, _almost_ , went to go sit in one of the chairs. But someone else was already in it, and he knew it wasn't his chair yet. 

The High Councilors were arranged in a circle around the room, with their backs to massive windows, all facing the middle of the room where Obi-Wan stood. Master Sy was sitting close to one side of the door; he gave Obi-Wan an encouraging smile. Master Plo nodded at him, and Master Fisto winked. 

Those little gestures made the last bit of his nerves flutter away. 

"Initiate Kenobi," Master Yoda said. "Stand here before us, you do, because you have a request."

"Yes, Masters," Obi-Wan said with a respectful bow. "I would very much like t' go visit my _vod'e_ , please."

" _Vod'e_. That means ‘brothers'?" one of the other masters said. Obi-Wan didn't remember this one. He looked like a waterfall of hair with eyes and clawed hands. 

"Means siblings, Masters, and it's a special word for my _vod'e_." He frowned but ended up shaking his head. "I donno how to tell you. It's a big word."

"A word you don't know?" Master Mace asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head again. "It's just big. It means a lot of things."

He hoped that would be enough of an explanation. 

The Councilors exchanged some glances. 

"You know that Initiates are not allowed to see their birth families," another master with large horns on his head said. "It invites attachment, which is very dangerous. Attachment leads to the Dark Side."

Obi-Wan thought about this and pressed his lips together.

"Masters, may I ask questions?" 

"Yes, youngling," Master Yaddle said with an encouraging nod. "Ask us, you may."

From the brief flickers of glances that she got from a couple of the other masters, they didn't agree with the waste of time.

Obi-Wan nodded in thanks to her. "Would you let me talk, too?" He wrinkled his brow in worry. This might be tricky.

"That is the point of this whole event, Initiate Kenobi," Master Mace said dryly.

"What I mean is, words are hard sometimes, and there are an awful lot of you ‘nd you're all really big ‘nd can talk over me if you wanted, ‘nd you like to argue _a lot_. So. Would it be alright if you let me talk, too?" He looked around the room in what he hoped was an encouraging way. "We can take turns."

Master Gallia covered her mouth with her hand, but Obi-Wan thought she might be smiling. 

"That seems like a good idea, Initiate Kenobi," Master Plo said. It was hard to tell with his mask, but Obi-Wan thought he sounded pleased. 

Obi-Wan beamed at him.

"Thank you, Masters." He gave them a little bow. When he straightened, he put on what Crèche Master Tinna called his ‘thinking face' and tried to figure out where to start. 

"Master Sy explained t' me that attachment was bad because sometimes people start to care more ‘bout the people ‘nd things they are attached to than they do about doing good. Is that right?" He was pretty sure that's what Master Sy was saying, but sometimes he didn't understand things right away. 

"Correct, that is, youngling," Master Yoda said with a grave nod. "Also, attachment can lead to great grief, fear, and pain, which to the Dark Side can lead."

"Because if your hurtin' ‘nd upset, then it's easier to feel bad ‘nd want to do something bad back. Like forgetting that everyone needs to share, and takin' instead of askin'," Obi-Wan said, following the logic.

"That's... a close enough analogy," Master Mundi said. "Though it gets much worse for more serious attachments."

"Fear of that pain, fear of loss, can lead to possessiveness and anger, anger to hate, and hate to suffering," Master Yoda said. 

Obi-Wan got the feeling that Master Yoda was not at all interested in Obi-Wan's attempt to go see his _vod'e_. Obi-Wan also got the feeling that Master Yoda might be as stubborn as a dead bantha stuck in a road. 

Obi-Wan tried not to express any of this. Instead he nodded along. 

"And you are worried that me seeing my _vod'e_ will mean I will get attached, ‘nd then maybe be Dark?" Obi-Wan asked. 

He needed to figure out what the problem was before he could address it, and he really, really hoped that they would let him tease it out. It would be so easy for them just to talk over him and ignore him. Some of his dreams went like that and he _really_ didn't like those.

"Yes, exactly," Master Gallia said.

"Ahhh," Obi-Wan said, relieved. "Then you don't need t' worry. I've been dreaming of my _vod'e_ for weeks. All the stuff we'll do t'gether. All the stuff we _might_ do. Sometimes…" He hugged his loth-cat tight and took a breath. "Sometimes I see them all die. Sometimes I see me die. None of us ever let that stop us from saving the people who we protect. And if it _did_ , if I ever _let_ myself do bad things or forget that ‘m a Jedi ‘nd that I should follow the Force, then they wouldn't _want_ me."

The Councilors stared at him with poorly disguised horror. 

"Obi-Wan," Master Sy said softly. "They would want to help you. When you make mistakes, the people who love you help you."

"Which is the other reason you should let me go," Obi-Wan said with a little nod. "Things ‘re gonna get bad. Stuff's gonna get dark. It's the people we love that are gonna get us through." He looked at the masters around him and tilted his head. "Creche Master Tinna says that it's ok t' care about other people. That Jedi should be com-pass-on-ate. That means caring what happens to people. Why would you want me t' not care for my _vod'e_?"

"It's not that simple," one of the masters said. He was small like Master Yoda, but was really pale and had a scary scar over one eye. 

"Creche Master Tinna cares about me. Is it wrong of her?" Obi-Wan asked.

"That's different," he said. "She is a full grown adult and knows where her duty lies. You are a child. You do not yet have the experience to make choices between love and duty."

Obi-Wan frowned at him. The little master was missing the point. "Seems t' me that you should be teaching me how t' choose right, instead of how not to care." 

Master Fisto sputtered and then coughed into his hand. Several of the other masters raised their eyebrows in shock.

Obi-Wan frowned, suddenly worried. "Unless you want to teach me t' not care? Should I not? That doesn't seem right."

"No, you make a very valid point, youngling," Master Plo said. There was laughter in his voice.

Master Zir nodded. "That is true. As it is also true that young children need strong, positive attachments to grow up emotionally stable."

There were more than a couple of mildly surprised looks around the circle. 

"Come now, you all know this," Master Zir said with a dismissive wave of his hand and a roll of his eyes. "And if you don't, you need to take more shifts helping in the crèches. Young children need people around them who care for them and make sure that they feel protected and safe. The _same_ people. Stability and routine are important. Anything less severely damages their mental health and self esteem. _Adults_ can safely choose to put a higher duty above themselves and their own wants, but small children need love and care to be confident enough to grow into people who can judge those situations wisely and make well reasoned choices. Sequestering children in the Temple is as much about steeping them in Jedi culture and giving them a standardized education and socialization as it is proper interaction with the Force and guarding them from attachment."

"The Jedi Order becomes our family, in a way," Master Fisto mused. "Crèche mates turn into lifelong friends, and lineages become an extended network of siblings and mentors."

"Different, it is," Master Yoda said firmly. "Trained to let go, Jedi initiates are. Lineages are. Support is given, not attachment. Leave the crèches, all initiates do. Leave their masters, knights do as well. Nothing put above the Code, is. Not the same, for other families. _Important_ , this is. Risk Falling to the Dark, we cannot. Once a Jedi touches the Dark, forever does it dominate their path."

There was a moment of silence as everyone considered this.

"So the real problem becomes, do we want Initiate Obi-Wan to learn values contrary to what he would learn here in the Temple?" Master Mace asked. 

Obi-Wan didn't think that Master Mace really wanted to know the answer, though. It sounded more like he wanted to hear what other people thought the answer was.

"We have never sheltered Initiates from other cultures," Master Sy reminded them, "And a short heavily supervised visit is hardly enough to corrupt him. Nor have we denied other Initiates the chance to learn about their own cultures with such trips."

"Master Sy will be there with me," Obi-Wan said imploringly. "And Master Doo. They can help me figure out the attachment stuff, and tell me what a good Jedi should do. Please?"

Crèche Master Tinna said that if he wanted something it was very important to say ‘please'. Maybe it would help here, too. 

The Councilors looked at each other.

Obi-Wan knew that meant they weren't decided, but they were considering it.

"What else?" he asked.

"Pardon?" Master Fisto said.

"Somethin’ else is wrong. You all look... _thinky_. So what else?" Obi-Wan asked.

Master Mace gave him a look that told him he needed to work on his words. 

"Impertinent, you are," Master Yoda hummed. There was a slight unhappy curl to his ears.

Obi-Wan deflated. He wasn't sure what that was, but he bet it was bad. "I'm sorry, Master Yoda. I didn't mean to be mean. I jus' want to understand. If I know what's wrong, then we can talk ‘nd figure out a way to fix it."

Master Yoda gave him a thoughtful look, and then nodded. 

"There is a matter of safety," Master Mace said. "Mandalore is on the Outer Rim, there is no Jedi Temple there, and they've just gotten out of a very nasty fight."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yeah, I saw."

That caused a few flinches. Obi-Wan agreed. It wasn't a very nice thing to see at all. 

"I'll be fine once I get there," Obi-Wan said. "My _vod'e_ are really, _really_ a-maz-ing, and they'll keep me safe."

"That is very accurate," Master Plo said. "It would probably take an army to tear Initiate Obi-Wan away from Ben and his _vod'e_."

Master Mace nodded. "Agreed. They are young, but terrifyingly skilled."

"I am not convinced that the trip there and back would be safe for such a young child," Master Zir said.

That was a shame. Obi-Wan had hoped that Master Zir would be on his side.

"The Mandalore Sector is right off the Hydian Way Hyperlane and the Salin Corridor," Master Sy said. "They are well traveled routes with very few risks, especially so close to the Mid Rim, and he will hardly be traveling alone. I may not be the duellist that Master Windu is, but I am hardly inept." 

The words were said so calmly that Obi-Wan marveled at it. The things Master Zir said felt unfair to him. Master Sy was _great_. They wouldn't let him on the High Council if he wasn't really, really strong in all aspects of being a Jedi. 

"What of your visions?" Master Zir snapped back. "You were just laid up for days because of one. What happens if you are incapacitated while in Hyperspace?"

The room grew tense and Obi-Wan shrank in on himself. The worry he felt for Master Sy bubbled back up.

Master Sy's response was icy cold. "Even at my worst, my visions only last for short periods of time. Initiate Obi-Wan is smart enough not to stray from me for the half hour or less that I would be unable to respond. After that, I carry with me a variety of medications that can put me back on my feet if need be. They are hard on the body, so I do not use them while I am in the safety of the Temple. If I were traveling, I would use them immediately, and request aid from either Mandalore or the Temple, whichever was closer. There would be very little time where he was unattended."

"That seems like a reasonable precaution," Master Mace said.

"Master Sifo-Dyas is an established and skilled Jedi," Master Gallia said. "He and Initiate Obi-Wan already have a rapport. Letting the two of them sit in hyperspace for a few days doesn't seem like that dangerous a prospect, visions or not."

Master Zir looked like he wanted to object, but he held his peace. 

The room still felt undecided.

Obi-Wan almost told them that it wouldn't matter what they decided. If they didn't let him leave, then his _vod'e_ would come for him. He was certain of it.

But he _wanted_ to be here. It felt right.

So instead he said, "Masters, I think the Force is telling me t' meet my _vod'e_. It's _important_."

Master Mace raised one eyebrow. "Is it the Force you're listening to, or just your own desire? I know how excited you are for this trip."

That was a fair question. Obi-Wan took a moment to think about it. He tried to focus on the feel of the Force around him.

There was a faint tug. Featherlight now, but he just knew that it would grow and grow. His dreams would keep coming, too. He saw them whenever he closed his eyes now, not just when he was sleeping. 

"Both, Master Mace," he said finally. "I wanna go awfully bad, it's true. But I think I _need_ t’ go, too." He tilted his head, curious. "What does it tell you, Master Mace?"

Master Mace pressed his lips together for a moment and then said, "That is a very good question, Initiate Kenobi."

The Councilors' shared a look.

"Hmm. More discussion, need we?" Master Yoda asked them. Some unspoken communication passed between them. "Very well. Vote, we will. Initiate Kenobi, traveling to Mandalore with Master Sifo-Dyas, vote now if in favor, you are."

Master Sifo-Dyas, Master Plo, Master Fisto, Master Yaddle, Master Gallia, Master Mace, and Master Mundi all raised their hands. The rest stayed lowered. 

That was seven. That was enough? He thought?

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled at him. "Looks like we are headed to Mandalore, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan shouted happily and bounced in place from the sheer joy he felt. 

\--


	32. Chapter 32

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Yan was well aware that the _vod'e_ would be more than a little anxious to hear the results of the High Council meeting. So on the day of the meeting, Yan made sure that he was available to be hovered around. 

He expected he would get a comm from Sy sometime that afternoon, so he spent the morning meeting with the Mandalorian Council, had a quick lunch, and then spent the afternoon in the training yard. The _vod'e_ kept themselves nearby right up until Yan took to the training yard, at which point they started doing drills of their own. 

Afternoon stretched into evening and still there was no word. 

Yan refused to worry. The High Council often took their time with their deliberations. This would be no different. Choosing to forego their usual restrictions on whom initiates were allowed to interact with would set precedent. They would be cautious in their decision on the matter.

By dinner time, the _vod'e_ had given up even attempting to be subtle. They simply invited him to join them for the meal.

The conversation was stilted and involved half muttered extraction plans. Yan could not resist adding in a few pointers of his own. Honestly, if they wanted to kidnap young Obi-Wan, Yan didn't think the experience would end poorly for the boy. Ben was a competent master and had already admitted to training one padawan. The child would be well taken care of. 

_Yan_ might come under fire from the High Council, but he had just enough plausible deniability to escape unscathed. Probably. Either way, he wasn't all that worried. Sometimes the Council needed people to disagree with them. It was good for them.

At the tail end of dinner, Yan got a written comm from Sy. The _vod'e_ practically froze solid when his comm pinged. 

_I've got news, but I'd like to share it with you all at once. Can you get to a comm room?_

"Master Sifo-Dyas would like to speak to us together. May we adjourn to a communication room?" he asked.

Yan found himself hustled out of the door so quickly that he suspected Force use. The _vod'e_ pushed him along with Ben just barely leading the way while Jaster and Jango trailed after.

An alarmingly short amount of time later, he was seated in front of a larger holo projector.

He set the frequency he knew by heart, and then a life sized holo of Sy answered.

Sy looked wonderful. So much better than he had just a few days earlier. His long bangs were very neatly tied up into his regular top knot, decorated with a simple silver clasp. The rest hung down in carefully combed locks. His robes were perfectly orderly and as dark as his hair, and his smile was warm and open.

Good news, then.

Sy bowed to them.

"Master Dooku, _Mand'alor_ , _vod'e_. As I know you are eagerly awaiting the verdict, I will cut to the chase. The Council has agreed to a visit."

The _vod'e_ outright cheered. Jaster and Jango were both smiling, and Ben looked torn between relief, amusement, and worry. 

Yan himself was very pleased. He was glad that the initiate would get a chance to meet those he'd been dreaming about, yes, and this was definitely another solid stepping stone towards better relations between Mandalore and the Jedi Order. It would allow him to push his agenda of learning more about Ben and the _vod'e_ cautiously forward. But mostly, he was just excited that he would get some time to see Sy.

"When can you be here?" Cody asked.

Sy's eyes crinkled with withheld laughter. 

"Soon, but not right away. This is why I wanted to speak with you all at once. There are many things we must plan for and discuss."

"The Council had many stipulations, then?" Yan asked, feeling slightly dubious.

Sy gave him a dry look. "No. Crèche Master Tinna did. The Council made their decision hours ago. I've just spent the afternoon as part of the most terrifying briefing I have ever been involved with."

"Master Lene used to take us to Sith temples for research," Yan said. 

"And Crèche Master Tinna was far more thorough in listing the potential dangers -- as well as optimal strategies for success -- than my old master ever was."

They both shared a look of mild horror. That was really saying something. There were titters of amusement from the _vod'e_ and Jaster outright laughed. 

"A fire brand, huh?" Jaster asked. 

"She is a very determined, very caring person," Sy said with a graceful incline of his head. "So. Young Obi-Wan is coloring with his crèchemates at the moment. He will join us later, but for now there are things that we all should discuss." He focused on Ben and the _vod'e_. "You all are not what you appear to be."

Yan held back a smile. 

Ah, Sy. There was a reason he wasn't on the diplomacy circuit. 

The younglings bristled. 

Before they could say anything, Sy waved them off. "No, I know. The High Council is aware of your story, and I, for one, believe it. And not only because it is the scenario that makes the most sense. I believe it because I have Seen you all."

Yan watched Ben and his _vod'e_ closely. People often reacted badly when confronted with Sy's foresight, especially when discussed in a casual way. It disturbed them. For Sy it was simply a fundamental part of who he was. If the younglings could not accept this and behave kindly… well. Yan would have to be more cautious in his dealings with them.

"The General," Sy said, "and all of his beloved troops. I do not envy you the future you have come from, Negotiator." A little of the intensity left Sy's gaze and he smirked. "But that is irrelevant for the moment. The pertinent information here is that you are all seasoned soldiers living in the bodies of children. Which means that you act as soldiers at war do, with combat reflexes and impressive self-discipline. Admirable, yes, for many reasons. But not always appropriate for interactions with a five-year-old."

Ben had gone unreadable and the _vod'e_ were tense.

"We would never do anything to put the Cadet in danger," Cody said coldly.

Sy raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I am aware. I am counting on it, in fact. Obi-Wan is beyond excited to see you all, and little ones who are excited often forget that anything else in the galaxy exists. He is too young to realize that he has limits. It will be up to us to remember his limits for him and make sure that he stays healthy and safe. So I will insist that you all help me enforce some very general rules of conduct to ensure that Obi-Wan does not suffer any mishaps."

That seemed to set the _vod'e_ at ease, at least somewhat. 

"We will, of course, help as much as we can," Ben said smoothly.

Sy nodded, satisfied. 

"First and most important, Obi-Wan will be chaperoned at all times. If not by me, then by Master Dooku. I take his safety very seriously and it is my duty to see to his health and comfort."

Yan could hear the unspoken, _and you are all crazy if you think I am letting that kid out of my sight before I evaluate the situation on planet myself_.

"Your confidence in my abilities is humbling, as ever, Master Sifo-Dyas." Yan added a touch of sarcasm to his voice, because Sy damn well knew how good with children Yan was _not_. 

"I live to inspire you towards greatness, Master Dooku," Sy replied in kind, his words as dry as a desert summer. 

Waxer and Boil gave each other a look that surely meant something to them but was indecipherable to Yan. Rather than try to puzzle out what the reaction meant, he ignored it.

"That's fair," Cody said with a nod. Already the tension in the room was dropping. "What else?"

"Obi-Wan will require a great deal of sleep. Younglings his age require _at least_ twelve hours of sleep a night, which means I will not tolerate him staying up late or skimping on his rest. No matter how excited he is, and regardless of how much fun is happening. Crèche Master Tinna advised me that if you are all particularly active during the day, Obi-Wan may require an afternoon rest period as well. Tired children are loud and unhappy children, and as charming and devious as young Obi-Wan is, he is no exception."

Ben didn't say anything, but his face had taken on a rosy hue. 

"Enforced bedtimes. Check," Helix said, clearly taking mental notes.

"And mealtimes as well," Sy added. "At least two large meals a day, if not three, and then snacks every two hours. Obi-Wan forgets to eat when he is busy or excited. We will all need to remind him to eat. Simply shoving food at him won't often work. We'll have to eat with him, or, better yet, just organize activities around meals so that it's just expected that the next thing to do is to eat, and he will follow along."

Ben's face was steadily getting redder. Yan almost felt bad for him. He had no idea how he would handle such a situation.

"Noted," Helix said. "We need to eat a lot, too. That shouldn't be a problem."

"He will have very short daily lessons that he must attend to. Meditation, language, and 'sabre practice. You all may join in with these activities, if you like." Sy hesitated a moment. "He might be more enthusiastic if you were to join him, and I promise that they are not long lessons."

The _vod'e_ nodded. "At least a couple of us will," Cody said.

"That goes for you as well, Master Dooku," Sy said, glancing at Yan. 

"Pardon?" Yan blinked.

"Obi-Wan is terribly excited to work on 'sabre forms with you. He's already conned Master Windu into teaching Clan Thranta's 'sabre classes, and he is all but dying to work with you as well."

"Master Windu?" Ben asked. "That's... surprising."

Sy laughed. "The little demon slipped out of his crèche master's clutches and then camped out in front of the Council room to wait for me. When he saw Master Windu, he proceeded to use some of the finest emotional blackmail I've seen in years to convince the rest of the Council members into exerting enough peer pressure on Mace to go take over Obi-Wan's sabre lessons."

"Kriff," Jaster said quietly. "That's. He's _five_."

"Indeed." Sy's eyes danced with amusement. "I am deeply wounded that I cannot share with you today's Council meeting. Initiate Kenobi was…" He rubbed his mouth, clearly stopping himself from laughing. "Memorable. Very memorable."

"Oh, come on, you can't leave us hanging like that," Boil protested.

Sy grinned. "I'll let him explain it to you. I imagine that will be most enjoyable." 

Most of the _vod'e_ looked a touch disappointed, but Cody simply nodded. 

"Was there anything else we needed to work out?" Cody asked, ever on point.

"Yes, I'm afraid," Sy said. His face grew a touch more serious as he shoved his amusement aside. "Obi-Wan is a delight, but he is also very young. There are many things he should not do for his own safety, and there are a great many things he simply has no experience with. He may need to be corrected. So I ask that you allow me to do so. I will do so _gently_ , I promise you, but for everyone's sanity, you will need to let me be the authority in charge."

Yan wasn't sure why this would be an issue. It seemed obvious to him. Sy would be acting as Obi-Wan's master during this visit; of course the matter of discipline would be up to him.

But from the disgruntled looks the _vod'e_ were exchanging and the tightness around Ben's mouth, perhaps it was more of an issue than Yan expected.

"If there is any need for correction, I won't hide it from you," Sy said. "You'll be able to see everything that happens. Obi-Wan is a very sensitive child. I don't expect I will need to do more than occasionally talk to him, and even then it will be he and I talking about what happened _together_ , nothing else. I will never, ever strike him, nor will I ever do anything to make him feel unsafe."

Yan wasn't the only one watching the younglings. Jaster and Jango eyed them as well. For good reason, it seemed. Ben looked serene as ever, but the _vod'e_ were clearly struggling.

"Thank you for clarifying matters, Master Sifo-Dyas," Ben said when it became clear that the _vod'e_ hadn't quite figured out how to react. "We will trust you to act with compassion and grace."

From the slight twist of Sy's lips, he heard the same not-threat that Yan did. Ben would make sure that his brothers didn't interfere as long as he felt there was no reason to do so. 

Sy nodded. "Then we have reached an accord. I am certain there will be other matters that need to be discussed before we leave Coruscant, but those can be relayed as we think of them. I am very certain you are already aware of young Obi-Wan's dietary needs, as well as allergies, but I shall send them all anyways."

"Thank you, Master Sifo-Dyas," Helix said with a nod.

"On the very slim chance that something disastrous should happen during our trip through hyperspace, Obi-Wan and I will be running through practice drills on how we will handle the situation," Sy continued, as if that was at all _normal_. "Part of that will be showing him how to contact you in case of an emergency. I don't _think_ that anything will happen, but." He shrugged.

"Better safe than sorry," Cody finished.

"Exactly." Sy suddenly laughed. "You know, I almost suggested that he and I travel with a group headed your direction. The Council wouldn't assign a knight for something as simple as a pleasure trip, especially not when a master was already going as well, but traveling in numbers is often safer. Then I talked with Obi about it and we had a very long discussion on pirates, and decided that perhaps traveling with another group wouldn't be worth it."

Yan held back a laugh. He recognized that Sy was playing one of his favorite games: tempting people into asking about things which they didn't really want to know. Or simply alluding to the fact that he might have more information than them. 

Little did Sy know, the _vod'e_ would likely call his bluff every time. 

"Did you foresee a problem with that?" Cody asked immediately.

"Not specifically," Sy answered with a smile. "But apparently Obi-Wan has had many, many dreams of pirates and raids in hyperspace. And no few crash landings either. He's not _anxious_ , precisely, but he has concerns. Which we are trying to address. So. Once he and I work out our emergency protocol, we will send it to you so that you are aware."

That caused nods all around the room. 

Sy opened his mouth to say something else, and then turned towards where Yan knew his door was.

"Ah. One moment, Obi-Wan is here. I will bring him to say hello." He turned to give them all a stern look. "But not for long. He needs to head to bed soon."

"Understood, Master Sifo-Dyas," Cody said. He was nearly standing at attention, though if it was from nerves at meeting Obi-Wan or because this whole communication had taken on the feel of a military briefing, Yan wasn't sure.

Sy stepped away for a moment.

The _vod'e_ exchanged excited looks. Jaster and Yan exchanged a look too, but it was slightly more amused. 

" _Vod'e_!" Little Obi-Wan bounced, literally _bounced_ into the holo projection. " _Vod'e, vod'e, vod'e_! The Council said I can visit!"

He was a little too short for the projection, given how Sy had set it up. All they could see was Obi-Wan's head plus a little more as he attempted to jump into view. His hair was a spiked mess and he had a large piece of paper held over his head. 

Sy stepped back into the frame and deftly picked Obi-Wan up and settled him on his lap, finally bringing most of him into view. That didn't seem to stop Obi-Wan from bouncing, though it did limit his efforts. 

"Look, I drew you a picture." Obi-Wan held up a crayon drawing of two stick figures with brown shirts. Or perhaps robes. The very tops of their heads appeared to be stuck together. 

"Dare I ask," Yan said quietly.

"Master Doo!" Obi-Wan wiggled happily. "It's you and Master Sy. See? _Mando'ad'e_ all headbutt people they like, ‘nd you ‘nd Master Sy are best friends, so I know you're gonna headbutt when we meet up." His face took on a very serious, very disapproving look. "But you need t' be really careful, ‘cause Master Sy gets headaches ‘nd if you hit each other in the head too hard, it'll hurt."

Sy had one hand over his mouth in a now-familiar move to cover up his need to cackle. Jaster and Jango were outright snickering. The _vod'e_ were all grinning, and even Ben looked amused.

Yan just sighed and accepted his humiliation with as much grace as he could muster. 

"I shall strive to be cautious, young Obi-Wan," Yan said gravely. 

Obi-Wan nodded, and then turned his attention to his _vod'e_.

"Hi." For all that he spoke quietly, he was no less brimming with excitement.

"Hi, Cadet," Cody said with a big smile. "We're all looking forward to seeing you."

"Master Sifo-Dyas said you did a good job talking the Council around," Helix said.

Obi-Wan perked up. "Thank you!" His face turned very unimpressed. Like he'd found a way to distill the essence of disappointment. "They argue a lot ‘nd about very silly things. Crèche Master Tinna says that they do lots of stuff, ‘nd I _know_ they are busy. But…"

His frown grew even more pronounced. 

Ben nodded. "It is a difficult job, true, but they do seem to make it harder for themselves, don't they?"

"Right?" Obi-Wan exclaimed. 

"Young Obi-Wan decided that the Council wasn't being terribly consistent with their expectations of how and when Jedi should form attachments," Sy said with laughter dancing in his eyes. "He then proceeded to point out loopholes in policy and admonished Master Piell over the proper education of initiates."

 _Oh my_.

Yan rubbed a hand over his mouth to stop himself from saying anything he hadn't thought through. Ben did nearly the same thing. Everyone else just _laughed_.

Obi-Wan twisted to see Sy's face. "Is that bad?"

"Not in the slightest," Sy said jovially. "You had very good arguments, and you did your best to be respectful. Sometimes, people _need_ someone to say things that are uncomfortable to talk about. It encourages better decision making."

"Oh." Obi-Wan looked thoughtful.

"You should still strive to be compassionate when speaking, though," Sy said, clearly heading off any number of awkward conversations in the future. "Remember that when you talk to someone, they are a _person_ , with feelings and their own life experiences that could be very different from yours. Even if you _know_ you are right, you must remember to be kind, too."

"Yes, Master Sy," Obi-Wan said dutifully. 

"You'll figure it out, Cadet," Waxer said, grinning.

"I don't suppose the Jedi High Council records their sessions, do they?" Crys asked.

"We do, in fact, though they are stored under very tight security," Sy said. "All High Council members have access to them, but very few other people, and generally only to meetings that involve them."

"So Obi-Wan has access to the recording of the session he was in?" 

"He does not. He is five." Sy gave him a knowing look. 

"Master Sy does, though," Obi-Wan said happily. "I mean, you could _try_ t' get through the files se-cure-ty, but that seems really hard. Why do that when you could just ask Master Sy t' watch his copy when we visit?" He looked honestly confused. "That's silly."

Yan just covered his face with his hand. 

"Oh Force, General," Crys whispered in delight.

Jaster was outright laughing. Just cackling. 

"This explains so much," Jango said, shaking his head. 

"What?" Obi-Wan asked. "It's easier if Master Sy shares. Crèche Master Tinna says it's very important to share."

"It is," Sy said, finally pulling himself together. "Sharing is very important. However, the things that the High Council talks about are very… sensitive. Private. They make very important decisions and that means knowing stuff that wouldn't be good for a lot of people to know. For example, I know you wouldn't mind your _vod'e_ seeing you talking to the Council, but would you be bothered if it was broadcasted to all of Coruscant?"

Obi-Wan made a face. 

"Exactly," Sy said. "It's not other people's business, and it would make you uncomfortable for strangers to know so much about you. Which is why the Council has rules about who can watch the recorded sessions."

Obi-Wan frowned and gently tugged at his picture. "But I can watch it?"

"You don't have access codes to any of the Temple databanks because of your age, but because this session deals directly with you, you could request to see the recording. You could ask me or any of the other High Councilors or Master Nu in the archives."

The frown on Obi-Wan's face got tighter and he furrowed his brow in thought. "So I c’n watch it if I ask you?"

"Yes," Sy said.

Obi-Wan perked up. "Good. Then I'll ask to watch it when we get to Mandalore, ‘nd just make sure that my _vod'e_ are in the room with me. You have to show it t' me, ‘nd I can invite them to sit with me. Then they could watch ‘nd it wouldn't be against the rules."

Sy and Yan shared a look. Yan could almost hear Sy saying, _and THIS is how my month has been going_.

"He's right. From a certain point of view," Ben said.

"Force, he was always like this," Longshot muttered.

Jaster looked like he was having trouble breathing through all the laughing.

"I'm not sure why you're laughing, _Mand'alor_ ," Yan said. "After all, Initiate Kenobi will soon be joining us here, and then you will get some firsthand experience with his flexible look at the rules."

Jaster snapped his mouth shut, which only caused Jango to crack up laughing.

"And on that note, it's time to say goodbye, Obi-Wan," Sy said.

"Awwww, Master Sy." Obi-Wan pouted. "We didn't hardly get a chance t' talk!"

"There will be lots of time for talking later. A whole long visit's worth of talking," Sy assured him. "Now is the time for winding down for sleep."

"But!" 

Sy gave Obi-Wan a serious look, and Obi-Wan just sighed. 

"Yes, Master Sy," he said, deflating. 

"I'll send them your pictures from today," Sy offered.

"Yay!" Obi-Wan brightened up again, his previous disappointment already forgotten. He turned to look at the rest of them. "I drew lots of pictures for you! There's ones of all the _vod'e_ ‘nd space ships ‘nd FIRE." 

"That's a lot of excitement for the fire," Ben raised an eyebrow. 

"It's really great," Obi-Wan said with deadly seriousness. 

"I'm gonna die," Boil whispered to Waxer.

"Me, too," Waxer breathed back. Both were staring at Obi-Wan with obvious adoration. 

"Note to self, keep careful watch on any and all munitions," Sy said under his breath. Yan snorted.

"An excellent point," Cody said quietly. He looked like he was trying to be serious, but was too enchanted to really pull it off. A smile kept growing on his face. The rest of the _vod'e_ were no better. Ben just looked both stunned and resigned. 

"G'night, _vod'e_. G'night, me," Obi-Wan said with a wave. 

Yan shot Sy an alarmed look.

Sy just gave him a knowing smile and bowed to them all. "Goodnight, Master Dooku, _Mand'alor_ , _vod'e_. I'll keep you all updated on the details of our trip. Thank you for speaking with me."

The holocomm ended before anyone else could say anything.

Ben was staring at the console with wide eyes, and the _vod'e_ exchanged looks. The silence rang around the room.

"So he knows," Jaster said quietly.

Obi-Wan had wished himself goodnight. He'd wished _Ben_ goodnight. To anyone else, anyone who wasn't aware of the truth, they might have thought it was just a small child wishing himself goodnight. Knowledge of Ben's origins gave it a new context. 

Ben and the _vod'e_ shifted their attention to Yan.

He waved them off before they could get anxious about it.

"I'd figured it out already," he assured them. "It's very obvious to anyone who meets both of you. At least, if they already know about the time travel."

That seemed to deescalate the situation. A little more excitement leaked back into the younglings' expressions. Clearly, since there was no threat, they'd already moved on to considering the upcoming visit.

"This is gonna be so much fun," Waxer said with a grin. 

\--

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

It had been incredibly difficult to get himself to sleep, after that comm call with Master Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan. The Cadet's bright smile and boundless enthusiasm -- and his joy at getting to talk to them directly -- had left him with something of an emotional buzz.

Well, more accurately, it had left _all_ of them with an emotional buzz.

A high that had taken a while to wear off.

Their _buir_ had watched them thoughtfully for a few seconds after the comm call had ended, and then suggested that they should go work off their extra energy with a few drills.

It hadn't helped. Much. Despite being physically tired enough to need the respite sleep offered, Waxer had still found himself staring up at the ceiling once they'd arranged themselves on their mattresses, his mind whirling and leaving him unable to settle long enough to allow him to drop off.

The night had passed in something of a restless haze, and he'd dragged himself out of bed for the early meal, still tired. It had been clear that his _Vod'e_ were no better off than he was, either. Even the Commander looked like he'd barely slept a wink.

Even after that, it had taken them a couple of hours to find time to discuss the matter of Obi-Wan's visit in detail without their General present to offer what he considered 'assistance'. It also meant they could talk without embarrassing him further with their enthusiasm. Imagining meeting a younger version of himself left Waxer feeling mostly excited, but maybe it was different for natborns, who grew up with different cultural norms than the _Vod'e_ did. Or would? Whatever. Different standards applied.

"Well, _Vod'e_?" Crys prompted them, "We wanted to plan for the Cadet's visit, so let's plan."

Longshot gave him a sardonic look. "Crys, the ideas we were kicking around aren't going to fly. Master Sifo-Dyas won't let him train with us."

The Commander nodded. "Definitely not at first. Maybe some really easy drills near the end of their stay."

"Exactly," Longshot said, giving him a nod. "So blaster training is probably out -- though I still think that you really can't learn blaster safety too early -- and so are most of the other drills we run."

Wooley made an expressively disappointed face. "I was looking forward to that," he said, a trifle mournfully. "Maybe next time."

Helix huffed at their apprentice armourer. "If my impression of Master Sifo-Dyas is on target, we can't very well teach him sabacc or gambling, either," he added.

Boil groaned. "That's most of our plans gone right out the window. Kark it."

There was a brief silence as they all traded glances, hoping that their _Vod'e_ might come up with a brilliant idea.

"Well, he won't be at lessons _all_ the time," Waxer reasoned, deciding to voice the logic he was trying to work his way through, "and Master Sifo-Dyas won't let him skip... or let us encourage him to skip."

"Not that we would," Boil put in.

"Nah, _Vod_ ," Crys agreed, "basic flash training -- or whatever the _jetii_ equivalent is -- is karking important."

"So, that still leaves us at least three hours in a given day to work with," Waxer pointed out. "Master Sifo-Dyas said they'll be here for a month or so. We can't possibly fill that up with drills every day. That'd get repetitive."

"Master Sifo-Days also said that routine was important, though, _Vod_ ," Helix reminded him, "and our training relied on it, as well. It might not be a horrible idea to do exactly that."

Longshot nodded thoughtfully. "That's a good point."

The Commander decided to weigh in. "So what should we do if we end up with more time than that? Us spending time doing drills and lessons with him is all well and good, and I'm sure we'll end up having meals together and telling stories, too. But surely we have more to offer than that."

Waxer thought that over. "Did you have something specific in mind, Commander?"

"You're thinking about our diplomacy coursework, aren't you, sir?" Boil asked him.

The Commander nodded. "We didn't just get tactics and languages drilled into us. Culture and art and music and how to talk to people without offending them. The _jetiise_ probably put a lot more emphasis on that stuff than we did, and they have to learn about other species, too."

Huh. That was a karking good point.

"We've barely explored any of Sundari besides the Palace and the immediate area," Longshot said slowly. "How are we going to figure out where to go to show the Cadet that sort of thing?"

"We could ask the General?" Crys replied. "He's been here before."

Helix considered that. "True, but he won't be able to pick destinations without his bad memories colouring his choices," he said, picking his words carefully. "When the General was here before, he was on missions every time. You know how well those usually end for us, and it was worse for him before we showed up, _Vod_."

"So let's ask Ardanna," Wooley suggested. "She'd be a good third party to ask for advice."

The Commander made a thoughtful sound. "She knows all the good gossip anyway," he agreed. "Even if she can't immediately make us some suggestions, I'm sure she could point us at the right sites on the holonet."

"Right," Waxer agreed. "She's great at that sort of thing."

"It's nearly time for my lesson with her anyway," Wooley added. "Let's go see her, now."

"It's such a shame we can't teach him sabacc, though," Crys grumbled as he stood and pulled his bucket back on. "I'm sure he'd be amazing at it."

The Commander snorted, following suit. "He could use those eyes of his to make anyone simply let him win."

" _Force_ , those eyes," Waxer agreed and groaned as he leaned in to give his _riduur_ a chaste peck of a kiss before he put on his own bucket. "Kriffing _lethal_ levels of cute."

"Shame he grew out of them," Boil said with a laugh, then joined them. "He could've used them on our enemies."

"I'm not sure he did grow out of them," Longshot disagreed, already waiting by the door. "He's still incredibly kriffing good at using them to make _buir_ and the council do what he wants."

Crys and Helix took their places in their usual formation without a word, and then they were moving.

\--- POV: Jango Fett ---

Jango was extremely glad for his helmet. Not just because it allowed him to keep track of Master Dooku and his _vod'ike_ in the crowded market place square, but because it covered up his expressions. 

Kark. He was _ad be'Mand'alor_. He was used to people looking at him. His armor was pretty well known, especially in Sundari. 

But then add in the _jetii_ he was escorting around as well as Crys, Waxer, Boil, and Longshot… well, he was getting a lot of looks. Some friendlier than others. 

_Buir_ had suggested that he take them all to one of the larger markets. Master Dooku still wanted to pick up some of the locally used spices, as he'd mentioned rotations ago. Apparently that hadn't been a simple passing thought, forgotten in the hangover the morning after, as Jango would have expected. And, for that matter, after the holocomm call to the Temple they'd all taken part in recently, Jango was willing to bet good credits that the ‘friend' who he wanted to get them for was Master Sifo-Dyas. They'd seemed really familiar with each other -- enough so to tease one another like _aliit_. 

It was weird. Jango had thought that _jetiise_ weren't allowed to be close to people like that. At least, he had after the whole conversation about attachment that Ben had had with their _buir_ months ago, the rotation after they'd narrowly escaped death on Korda VI. 

Might be worth it to keep his eye on that. At the very least, Ardanna would appreciate the gossip. 

Ben, Cody, Wooley, and Helix had declined to join them for their trip out this afternoon; they all had other things to work on. Jango was pretty sure that Ben and Cody were with _Buir_ , and Wooley and Helix were hanging out in the armory. It didn't escape him that they all were paired up. No _vod_ was left alone.

Meanwhile, Jango was out playing babysitter. He was smart enough to realize that Jaster had sent him specifically because it would make a statement to people who saw them, too. _Jetiise_ were not well liked by _mando'ad'e_ , though that was starting to change with how so many of them had shown up to help with Death Watch.

Master Dooku seemed completely immune to any unkind looks. It was a strange sight, all told. He was a karking tall man, dressed in dark _jetii_ robes, and sporting an impersonal air of superiority. Alone, he might have been intimidating. But there were the _vod'e_. Four little armored _verd'e_ moving through the square like a trained patrol; always watching each others' backs. 

The _vod'e_ got a number of indulgent looks followed by no few double takes as bystanders noticed just how much ordinance they were carrying. Not everyone had Whistling Birds and _certainly_ no children ever did. 

Jango found himself taking a few quick holo stills of some of the expressions on people's faces.

As they wandered, Jango gave them information about the market and what they might find. It was a good sized place, and there was a pretty good variety.

Currently, they were hunting for tea.

"I think I know a place," Jango said. 

"We know kark-all about tea," Longshot admitted.

"I'll guide you, if you like," Master Dooku said, waving his hand in an eloquent dismissal. "I am a great fan of the drink, and have spent many years trying different types. I can either point you towards what is good, or advise you on the different types so that you can choose yourselves."

It was easy enough for them to stay in a group. People were giving them a wide berth, and not just because they were armed to the teeth. 

"Both, maybe?" Longshot asked. "I'm not sure I'll remember all the details about the tea stuff, but more information can't hurt."

"... You know, we don't have any credits," Waxer admitted.

"Kriff, we should have brought stuff to trade," Boil said.

Jango shook his head. " _Vod'ike_ , _buir_ gave us a credit chip. It's not an allowance," he added before they could object. "Though you get that, too. You all fought in the Death Watch campaign. It's your stipend. Also, _buir_ promised to try and get Ben some tea, so whatever you all pick out, I'll be paying for."

They seemed surprised. That was a bit depressing.

"You all should pick out something for yourselves, too," he said. _Buir_ wouldn't mind at all. "Find something you want to try, and we'll get it."

That caused more than a little renewed excitement in the stalls around them. Jango watched with amusement as whatever table they stopped at quickly emptied of other patrons, and then filled up double after they left as all the locals crowded in to gossip.

On their way to the import shop that Jango was thinking of, they stopped at one of the larger spice vendors. 

"These two tables are filled with the spices that make up the basics of most of our meals," Jango said, pointing to the large piles of dried herbs, seeds, and flowers. "You can get them ground, and lots of _verd'e_ do just to make life easy when they are off on contracts, but to make the food taste really good you need to get the spices whole, toast them a little in a pan, and _then_ grind them up for the food."

Master Dooku looked over the tables with great interest. "I'll get both. Which types should I choose?"

Jango signaled the merchant and started pointing stuff out. "Here, these eight are a good base. That's av'gav root, cerla seeds, tursh seeds, and anise pods. These three are all different kinds of spicy chili, and that's a peppercorn. You add a little of each into whatever you're cooking and that will start you off fine. Experiment with adding oil and salt." 

He paused and considered the table in front of them. Master Dooku wasn't _aliit_. But he was becoming a friend, at least to Jaster and Ben. 

"Here," he said, pointing to a pile of dried flowers. "These are yanna petals. Add a few of these to your water when you boil noodles or rice, and it'll give it extra kick."

"Thank you," Master Dooku said with a little bow. "I appreciate the advice."

Jango suddenly had an idea. Something to treat his _vod'ike_.

"You all like caff, yeah?" he asked. It was rhetorical; he knew damn well they were all addicted.

"‘Like' is too tame a word, _ori'vod_ ," Waxer said dryly. 

"Then I know what you should get today," Jango said confidently. "We're gonna get you ingredients to make Mando'ad Spiced Caff, sweet and unsweetened. It takes a little extra time to make in the morning, but it's worth it."

Boil's excitement was visible even with his full set of _beskar'gam_ on. 

"And jam. We should get jam, too," Jango said. "There's a good dark caff recipe that you add jam to just to make it drinkable. Stuff's like tar but it's stupidly addictive."

"That sounds awful," Longshot said.

"I want to try it," Boil immediately added.

"We'll get extra for the rest of your _vod'e_ ," Jango said. Helix was probably going to kick his ass for this, but ah well. Better that Jango introduce it in moderation than have one of the _verd'e_ slip a whole pot of it to his _vod'ike_.

The spice vendor was very happy with the amount that they'd purchased, and the group left with Jango feeling more than a little pleased with finding a treat that his _vod'ike_ would enjoy. Something special and utterly unrelated to violence. 

Fighting was an intrinsic part of every _mando'ad_ , but it wasn't the _only_ part of them. 

It took them a little while to wind their way around to the import shop that Jango vaguely recalled stocked tea. To his relief, they actually did carry some.

"I've got no idea about this stuff, so..." Jango waved at the shelves of carefully labeled tins. 

Master Dooku inhaled deeply and a small, pleased smile formed on his lips. "I can guide you all from here. A better selection than I'd hoped, truth be told. Tell me, younglings, do you know what types of teas your general enjoys?"

The _vod'e_ looked at each other and shrugged. 

"Dead leaf water," Waxer said with a shake of his head.

"What color is it when he makes it?" Master Dooku asked.

That brought them up short, as if they'd never considered the fact that color was a determining factor with tea. Jango figured it was probably just like caff; the darker the color, the stronger it was.

"Huh. Uh, light brown?" Longshot said.

"Oh, kriff, that reminds me! I won some tea off of a _verd_ when we first got here," Crys said, tapping his knuckles on his leg plate. "I was gonna give it to the General. I totally forgot."

"Nice," Jango said. "What won the bet?"

"General knocking Jinn on his ass during sparring," Crys said slyly. 

Jango barked out a laugh. "Figures."

Master Dooku snorted softly, but didn't look offended. "So, light brown in color," he said, bringing the conversation back around. "Very light, or medium?"

"Both? I think?" Waxer said. "It depends. We didn't really have a lot of options out on the front, and we all know he likes any kind of tea better than caff, hands down."

Master Dooku nodded and hummed to himself. He read some labels and steered them to a different part of the shop.

"Alright. What does it smell like? Green things? Flowers? Is it a strong scent, or is there none at all?"

"Hmm. Flowers, I guess," Boil said. "There have been a couple that smelled kind of sweet. It's… kind of nice, actually. Stuff tastes terrible. Weak. But the smell is..."

"Soothing," Waxer finished for him. "It means the General is safe and we're all back in hyperspace and in between missions."

Jango kept his surprise quiet. He should have expected that kind of association from the _vod'e_. He'd seen _verd'e_ have the same kind of reaction with food served by their _aliit_ or their _buir_. Scent was an important part of homecoming. 

Hells, Jango himself had a hard time making his birth family's version of some dishes. The scents reminded him so much of his childhood that it was difficult to handle. 

It hurt his heart a little to think that the most comforting thing that his _vod'ike_ could think of was the rest time between fights. That was as close to home as they'd ever gotten.

Well, kark that. They'd have a home now. Jango and Jaster both had their own family recipes to share, and holiday dishes, and the palace cooks had their own versions, too. The _vod'e_ would find new scents to look forward to. They could start by getting Ben his tea and twining that scent into the smell of home and family.

If Master Dooku felt any kind of surprise at Waxer's admission, he didn't show it. He just nodded and started poking at tins. 

"Here, smell this one," he said, holding one open for Waxer.

There was some grumbling, but Waxer took off his helm and gave it a sniff.

"Too green," he said after a few huffs.

Master Dooku nodded and returned it to the shelf, and then picked out another one for Waxer to smell. The process of elimination continued, with Master Dooku picking out several different blends to purchase in small amounts.

Jango eyed the tiny bags. "Doesn't look like much," he said.

"Like spices, a little goes a long way," Master Dooku said confidently. "And now that we know this shop exists, we can return if Ben discovers that he particularly enjoys any of these teas."

He'd had the shopkeeper wrap up several bags for himself, as well. 

Just like spices, the teas were sold by weight, and were just as expensive. More so, in some cases. None of it was beyond what Jango knew they were allowed to spend. Jaster wasn't a terribly frivolous person when it came to funds; he had plenty saved up to get little treats like this.

Once they were finished there, the _vod'e_ turned towards the path that would take them back to the palace.

"Where are you all going?" Jango asked.

There was a long pause as the _vod'e_ looked at each other.

"We thought we were done?" Boil said hesitantly.

Jango shook his head and then gestured for them to follow him down a different direction.

"No trip to the market is complete without a stop at the bakery. Come on. We need to pick up _buir_ 's favorite cookies."

The _vod'e_ fell into step around him, each of them moving with contained excitement. They were too well disciplined to actually say anything, but Jango could still tell they were looking forward to the next stop.

Good. Jaster had made it clear that Jango should make sure the _vod'ike_ had _fun_ , and Jango was more than happy to comply. Especially with how this seemed like a new experience for them.

It wasn't so unusual for a normal _ad_. End of the week shopping with an older sibling or _buir_. Cookies and frozen creams. Peaceful, quiet activities.

Jango grinned under his helmet. He was looking forward to letting them pick out some baked goods and the expressions on their faces when they tried them. Of course, what was waiting for them once they got back to the palace would be even better, but Jaster had sworn him to silence on the matter for now.

\--

\-- POV switch: Jaster Mereel --

Jaster was more than a little excited. The palace renovations were finally done, and not a minute too soon. He’d wanted to get everyone settled into their new rooms before the next round of visiting _jetiise_. One less thing for them all to worry about. 

Happily, the construction had been completed on schedule. 

The moment he was free of the council meeting, he waved for Ben and Cody to follow him out. 

“ _Buir_?” Ben asked, as they both fell in line beside him.

Jaster grinned and surreptitiously checked his chrono. “I think Jango and your _vod’e_ should be getting back soon. I’ve got some stuff to show you all, but since you’re here and they’re not, you two get first peek.”

That earned him a pair of curious looks. Curiosity turned to dawning understanding as he led them to the _Mand’alor_ ’s private wing.

He ushered them towards the suite he’d had made up for Ben and his _vod’e_ , nodding at the guards in the hall as they walked by. Given the incident which caused the need for the renovations, he was happy to see that security was in place. It would be a hell of a long time before Jaster felt comfortable not seeing guards stationed at every corner.

“Your new rooms, _ad’ike_ ,” he said as he opened the door and waved them in. He’d already taken a spin through the space before the council meeting, so he had a good idea of what was waiting for them. Barring any unforeseen incidents, anyways. 

That was another reason he was happy to see the guards. If someone managed to come in and kark things up before his _ad’e_ even had a chance to move in, Jaster was going to have to break out some bigger blasters. 

“I picked a neutral color for the walls --” Well, neutral enough by Mandalorian standards. They’d been painted a nice stormy grey-blue. “-- But if you all decide you want something else, we can repaint it.”

Cody shot him a surprised look. It only lasted for a moment, and then he was back to exploring his new space. Ben had that seeing-but-not look on his face which told Jaster that he was doing some Force _osik_ to check the suite. 

Now that he thought about it, he probably should have asked their preference first. He’d honestly figured that they might want to decorate it themselves, though, much like they did with their armor. There were buckets of paint set aside in one of the rooms, along with a few other items that he’d picked out for them to liven up the room with if they felt like it.

Jaster let them do their thing and waited for the questions to start. 

Sure enough, it only took a moment for Cody to ask, “Specs?”

“Sitting room, dining room, fully stocked kitchen. A master bedroom with enough room for all of you to crash, along with six smaller bedrooms, if one or more of you decides you ever want some private space, but don’t want to move out of the suite.” Jaster raised his eyebrow at Cody and gave him a small, wry smirk.

Cody huffed in amusement, but shook his head. 

Yeah. That was pretty unlikely for a little while. At least until Waxer and Boil hit their teens.

Kriff, Jaster didn’t really want to think too hard about that.

“I had the additional security measures that you two detailed out weeks ago added to every suite in the palace,” he said, moving the subject right along. “Vent coverings, air and water filtration systems, sensors, retractable window shutters, sound proofing, reinforced doors on every room…”

As he rattled off the security upgrades, Cody visibly grew more and more pleased until he finally started to look like a kid presented with a triple serving of desert. 

_Good_. 

Every one of those younglings deserved nice things. If what made them happiest happened to be turning their bedroom into a bunker, well, Jaster could work with that. 

Before he could finish his run down, Cody headed towards the door. The group that had gone to the market were all there with arms loaded down with bags. Jaster noticed the distinctive mark of his favorite bakery on a few of them.

 _Ooooh_. That place sold these amazing little thumbprint cookies. It wasn’t a treat he indulged in often, but this was a special occasion. Everyone was getting a new room.

Besides, if he and Jango made sure to get themselves something sweet, it would encourage his other _ad’ike_ to treat themselves, too. 

“Did you find everything you wanted?” Jaster asked, after waving hello to them all.

Jango nodded. “Spices, tea, and cookies.”

“Many thanks, _Mand’alor_ , Jango,” Master Dooku said, nodding to them both. The _jetii_ looked as pleased as the _vod’e_ did.

“Wow, is this our new suite?” Crys asked, craning his head to look around.

“ _Olarom, ad’ike_ ,” Jaster said with a warm smile.

Whatever thoughts Master Dooku had on what he was seeing were firmly locked behind a mask of polite interest. The _vod’e_ , on the other hand, were blatantly excited. 

Jaster expected them to explore. He _should have_ expected how all their purchased items got dropped to the center of the sitting room with Longshot and Crys posted near them as guards while the rest of them looked around. 

A moment later, Wooley and Helix showed up, fresh from Wooley’s lesson with Ardanna. Wooley carried a heavy looking crate with him.

“What’s that?” Ben asked, finally blinking out of whatever weird meditative state he’d been in.

Wooley smiled wryly. “I guess Ardanna heard that we’d be getting a new base of operations today. This is her welcome gift.”

He hefted the box up so that Helix could crack open the lid for them all to see inside.

“Ammunition,” Helix said happily.

The _vod’e_ all cooed appreciatively, while Jaster found himself sharing a slightly exasperated, amused look with Master Dooku. 

Soon enough, the _vod’e_ spread out again, looking into every nook and cranny of their new home. While they investigated, Jango walked over to Jaster and handed him a bag.

“Your favorite,” Jango said.

Jaster was only a little gleeful when he took possession of the bag. He didn’t bother to stop himself from raiding the contents right away, digging around in the packaging to find the nearest cookie.

The rustling of the paper wrapping would be a good cover for his questions.

“Did they get something they wanted?” he asked Jango very quietly. He kept his manner totally nonchalant. If anyone was watching, which no doubt at least a couple of people were, it might be hard to determine what they were talking about.

“ _Elek_ ,” Jango replied in the same tone. “Stuff for spiced caff. Baked goods. It was…” A quick flash of a grimace crossed his face. “They were confused about it. But they got something.”

That sounded about right. Jaster withheld a sigh. 

Jaster didn’t really want to think about it, but he’d seen the same kind of behavior in recently freed child slaves who’d been adopted by _mando’ad’e_. They weren’t sure that they were allowed possessions, or that their _wants_ would be allowed in addition to their needs. 

This was the just the start of a process. They’d all get there in time.

“Thanks, _ad_.”

Jango nodded. He had a small bag of his own. Good. That meant he’d found something for himself, too. 

“Hold this for me for a minute, _buir_?” Jango asked, handing him the bag.

Jaster gave up his cookie search to take it, and raised an eyebrow in silent question. His confusion turned to amusement as Jango unholstered a blaster.

The reaction from the _vod’e_ in the sitting room was immediate. Longshot and Crys snapped to attention and put their hands on their weapons; even Ben, who was generally less jumpy than his _vod'e_ , did much the same. Cody frowned at Jango while Ben glanced around, searching for threats.

Master Dooku watched all of this activity with raised eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” Helix asked, as he and the rest of the _ad’ike_ poured into the room, clustering around Jaster and their bags of goods. 

“Nothing,” Jango said with an easy shrug. He casually walked closer to one of the bare walls, and adjusted the settings on his blaster as he went. “It’s just that you all have the worst kriffing luck I have ever seen, and nearly every single place you’ve all decided to sleep in has ended up getting blasted to karking bits. So I figured I better christen the damn place with some blaster fire, and fill your quota before Death Watch tries it.”

With that, he took a shot at the wall above the door. 

Master Dooku snorted in amusement while Jaster snickered. Ben and the _vod’e_ looked stunned for a moment, and then joined in.

“You’re laughing, but I am kriffing serious,” Jango said as he walked to the next room. Oh kriff, he was going to do it to every room. “I’m not gonna take any chances. A little bit of blaster burn adds character to the place, anyways.”

Jaster’s snickering turned into quiet cackles. Before he could get himself under control, the guards that had been stationed down the hall burst in through the door, weapons drawn and ready for a fight.

That just made Jaster laugh harder.

“It’s fine, _verd’e_ ,” he said breathlessly, and waved a hand at them. “Jango’s just decorating.”

“It’s not _decorating_ , it’s a karking _safety feature_ ,” Jango bitched loudly from one of the bedrooms. “If I don’t do it, karking assassin droids will. Or Sith. Or who the kriff knows what else, for kriff’s _sake_ , knowing you all it’s gonna be a karking _Krayt Dragon_ that pops out of karking nowhere just to add to the fun…” 

He kept talking as he went from room to room, firing one shot into the space above each door.

“Jango,” Ben said with an exasperated sigh. “I hardly think--”

“Pardon, what was that?” Jango stopped his roving to give Ben the evil eye. “Can you _honestly_ tell me that you didn’t walk through a totally innocent looking door with seven of your closest _vod’e_ only to have completely crazy banthashit happen to you? And were any of you really surprised?”

“... Which time?” Crys asked.

“That’s a little non-specific,” Wooley added.

Jango just gestured at the two of them emphatically and continued on his shooting spree.

Tal and Kree, the _verd’e_ who had piled in through the door, were giving each other looks. Even with their _buy’ce_ on, Jaster could clearly read the _what the kark_ in their body language. 

Unfortunately, he was a little busy crying with laughter. 

“...If everything is alright here, we’re just gonna… head out,” Kree said, taking a step back.

Jaster nodded and waved them both off. “Sorry, _verd’e_. Next time I’ll try to get him to warn you.”

“It’s good awareness training,” Jango grumbled between shots. 

Cody nodded thoughtfully. “Probably shouldn’t do it too often, though. Don’t want them to get used to it.”

Tal and Kree wisely stepped out before they could hear more of whatever training shenanigans Jango and Cody came up with.

“And one more to the front door for good measure,” Jango said, stepping back into the sitting room and firing off what would hopefully be the last shot.

The _vod’e_ snickered while Ben rolled his eyes.

“Should I expect the same kind of ritual upon receiving my permanent rooms?” Master Dooku asked. His eyes twinkled with mirth and a small but genuine smile was on his face.

“I donno, are you as much of a trouble magnet as my _ad’ike_?” Jaster asked teasingly. 

“Force, I hope not.”

Ben turned his unimpressed look on Master Dooku, which only made the rest of them laugh some more. 

Before the banter could devolve further, Ben said, “We might as well get our things transferred over before latemeal. Come along, _vod’e_.”

“Sir!” The _vod’e_ responded, though they were still grinning and snickering.

“I’ll show you to your rooms while they get settled in,” Jaster said to Master Dooku. 

“My thanks, _Mand’alor_.” Master Dooku bowed to him.

Jaster handed Jango back his bag of goodies and then waved towards the door. “Tell me what spices you bought,” he said, as he led them out.

While they walked and chatted, Jaster privately wondered if Tal or Kree had gotten HUD recordings of Jango shooting up the new suite. 

He hoped so. He wanted a copy for the holo album.


	33. Chapter 33

\--- POV: Helix Mereel ---

Helix was glad that the day had gone as smoothly as it had.

Since they'd been taken off assault duty for the Death Watch campaign, he and his _Vod'e_ had very gingerly allowed themselves to be split into two groups. Occasionally.

Today, they'd tried for three. The General and Commander had gone to work with _buir_ and the council on a few remaining security issues. Crys, Longshot, Waxer, and Boil had gone with _ori'vod_ and Master Dooku to explore the market. For lack of anything better to do, Helix had gone to the armory with Wooley to catch up on some reading while Ardanna started Wooley out on a few basic tasks.

He could have left Wooley to his own devices and joined the group headed to the market, but that hadn't sat well with any of them. None of them were quite willing to let a _Vod_ go anywhere alone, even if the innate risk of attack had gone down.

Both he and Wooley had been relieved to link up with the rest of their _Vod'e_ and the General before latemeal. Per their norm, _buir_ and _ori'vod_ had joined them, along with Master Dooku. They’d had their first meal in the dining room of their new suite. Even after the meal, though, Helix still couldn’t quite get over the surreal feeling that accompanied the thought that they _had their own suite_. A permanent set of rooms, no less. With so much space it felt like they were all rattling around in it. The whole network had hummed with astonishment and pleasure during their meal and conversation stayed light throughout; Boil and Waxer had excitedly explained the spiced caff recipe that Jango had shared with them -- which had made Helix a little bit regretful that he'd decided to stick with Wooley --, and there were cookies for all of them to try.

Helix had put his foot down when Boil had started trying to offer to make that spiced caff recipe right before bed, just so that the rest of them could try it. They might all be caff addicts, himself included, but he couldn't justify any amount of excess with their younger bodies. He had enough things to worry about without the additional issues like brittle bones and heart palpitations that that would cause. 

There was also a startling variety of teas for General Kenobi, which Kenobi greeted with a starved kind of enthusiasm. His pleasure vibrated through the network, as startling as it was sweet. 

None of them had realized how rare a reaction that was. General Kenobi was just so kriffing good at hiding what he was feeling. The bonds gave them a good step up, even with how heavily the General tended to shield. 

The grim reality of their new connection with him was the unpleasant realization of just how often their General was in some kind of emotional pain. 

As in, _constantly_. 

The General didn't even seem to notice it. Not unless he was literally moments from collapse, and even then his only reaction tended to be to shield harder and act more polite. To say that Helix and his _Vod'e_ found this distressing was a gross understatement. 

So the feeling of genuine happiness that the General radiated while looking at his new tea collection was a rare treat indeed. Helix resolved to have a word with Jango and Jaster about it just to let them know how appreciated the gesture was. 

The General kept looking at the little packets all through dinner, obviously warring with himself about whether or not to drink some before bed. To Helix's mild surprise, once dinner was done, the General didn't put the teas into the kitchen area. He settled them next to his very few possessions in the main bedroom. 

It made Helix wonder. 

It was true, the _jetiise_ had few personal belongings. Part of their karking crazy code. But maybe the General wouldn't mind having a few things to call his own.

Something to think about.

As the General was carefully arranging the small tins and pouches of tea, Crys went digging through his own collection of personal items. Every one of the _Vod'e_ had acquired a few things during their stay. They had all kept their armor from the GAR, and they each had some things they'd won on bets or had traded for, plus their new armor and weapons from Ardanna.

"Ah ha!" Crys said, holding up a small, cling wrapped item. "Found it."

He quickly walked over to General Kenobi.

"Here, sir," he said, handing the small package over. "I won this in a bet, Force, weeks ago, but things got busy and, well…" 

There was a bit of a blush to his cheeks and his mild embarrassment radiated through the network. The rest of the _Vod'e_ pressed in to comfort him.

The General took the little package, his face alight with curiosity as he gently folded the edges open.

"Tea!" General Kenobi said happily. "You made a bet to get me some tea?"

His eyes were just a bit wide. The dinner must have relaxed him quite a bit, because his shields were a touch lower than he normally allowed them to be; Helix was getting more of a sense of what he was feeling than usual. 

Kenobi was beyond pleased at Crys' gift, but also more than a bit baffled. 

"It's nothing as fancy as what we found today at the market," Crys said, still looking a bit red in the face. There was a hint of self-deprecating shame in his feel in the network.

The General put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it tight. 

"Thank you, Crys," Kenobi said softly. "This means a great deal to me."

And it did. They could all feel it. For whatever reason, _this_ meant even more to him than the stuff they'd brought back from the market had. The network sang with his pleasure at the gift, even if it was worryingly tinged with shock and surprise.

"Of course, _Vod_ ," Crys said, smiling. He squeezed the General's shoulder in return.

 _He doesn't expect us to get him anything_ , Helix mused, keeping the thoughts as shielded as he could. _Never expects anyone to look to his comfort, especially when it would be at any tangible cost to themselves_.

That was the difference. _Buir_ was _Mand'alor_. He wasn't a fabulously wealthy man by galactic standards, but he lived modestly and apparently had plenty of credits to spare for whatever luxury foods or goods that they wanted. Realistically, they all knew that it cost Jaster next to nothing to get them cookies and caff and tea.

Crys had made a bet. Granted, a sucker bet most likely, since Helix knew that most of what they'd been betting on with the _verd'e_ had been the General's abilities, and the _Vod'e_ all knew without a shadow of a doubt that the General could wipe the floor with basically anyone, even those visiting _jetii_ masters. 

But it was still a bet, which meant he'd had to put up something for collateral. The General knew as well as any _Vod_ how very little they had to offer. Their skills and time, maybe. Some items they may have won in other bets. No _Vod_ would ever bet their armor or weapons; the very thought was anathema.

That had to be what was tripping the General up. 

Based on all the reading that Helix had been doing, courtesy of Healer Che, that was just another sign that the General had undergone long term abuse. Emotional, at the very least. Probably physical, too, given how little regard he had for his own body and self worth. 

He _would_ find it astonishing that someone would put themselves at risk just for something as ‘inconsequential' as his comfort. 

Not that Helix could bring any of this up. 

General Kenobi was as stubborn as they came. _Di'kut'la jetii_. 

Luckily for him -- for all of them, really -- Healer Che had had some advice on how to slip in as much support as they could grant him. The first step would be getting them all to the point where they were less hypervigilant. 

A tall task. They had good reasons to be so high strung and battle-ready.

Helix hoped that they could do it. His plan to get both the General and the Commander reading about mental health in an attempt to help the other with their problems was going swimmingly. Awareness of the issues at hand was a good step in the right direction. 

Most of Helix's attention was on stabilizing Cody first. At least his _Vod_ recognized the need to get help. General Kenobi was still drowning deep in denial about there being any kind of a problem. Sith-spit, most of the time he _insisted_ that his trauma and lack of self-worth were mission critical.

Helix let the frustration slip away from him before it could leak into the network. It wouldn't help any of them.

Instead, he focused on getting ready for bed.

The General kept eyeing his pile of tea like a Krayt Dragon watching its nest. 

While they all prepared for their sleep cycle, the rest of the _Vod'e_ chattered about the upcoming visit. To a man, they were all excited.

At least the _Vod'e_ were, anyways. General Kenobi still had reservations. There was a lingering unease that radiated from him whenever the subject came up. That unease was part of the reason that they'd taken to planning their potential activities with the Cadet for times when the General was otherwise occupied. Master Dooku had even taken pity on all of them and invited the General to have tea with him while they discussed the possibilities. 

And here it was again. 

A faint sense of concern and a myriad of other unsettling feelings twisted around in the General's head while the rest of them chatted. Maybe it was because he was a bit less shielded, maybe it was the pleasure from the gifts or the easy camaraderie at dinner, but there were shades of nuance to the General's feelings that weren't often noticeable. 

Worry, that one was a constant. Pain. That was less constant, but far more present than Helix really felt comfortable with. 

Sadness. That… wasn't new, precisely, but it was worrying. 

Reluctance. That one also worried Helix. 

The sensations were enough that Cody and Wooley had taken notice. They paused in their pre-sleep routine to give the General a concerned look. Longshot and Crys gave Helix a troubled glance as well, sense of wordless worry and inquiry coming at him over the network from the pair of _Vod'e_ , but Helix gave them a tiny shake of his head. He was fine. It wasn't his issues he was stewing over.

"General?" Cody asked. 

A good choice for who should start the conversation. It was astonishingly obvious how much Cody and the General cared for each other. Despite that, Helix's creds were still on several more years of pining before the two of them pulled their heads out of their asses about it.

General Kenobi finished dressing for bed and gave his pile of tea one last look before turning to give them all an unsettlingly fake smile.

"It's nothing, Cody," General Kenobi said. "I was just thinking that, if you would all like, I could find other things to occupy my time while you are entertaining my younger self."

"What?" Cody gave voice to what they were all thinking.

The General grabbed a pillow and very nonchalantly started fluffing it into shape. "You are all quite excited."

The quiet storm of dread inside of Kenobi leaked into the network like an oil spill. 

As one they stared at him in confusion. What the kriff?

"I've noticed that you were… interested in keeping your plans private," the General said, still faux casual as could be. "Which is fine. You all deserve... you have the right to spend your time how you like." 

He seemed to stall out after that.

"You _di'kut_ ," Cody swore softly and walked over to kneel next to where the General had sat down on the mattresses. "Did you think we wouldn't want you with us?"

The General just looked at him. If not for the network, Helix would have thought him completely unaffected by the conversation. His expression was one of polite surprise.

Hurt scorched through their bonds. A hundred different kinds of pain, all laced with the tiny, crushing thought of, _of course_.

The _Vod'e_ winced back as if struck. It felt like a blow. The weight of his utter belief that the people close to him would simply _toss him away_ was like a blaster shot to the heart. Layered into the agonizing expectation was a deep intrinsic sense of guilt. 

He thought he deserved it.

Just like that, the General snapped his shields into place. Not a total blackout, but the most he could do without sending them all into panic attacks. The deluge of hurt turned into nothing more than the faint sense that Kenobi was still alive and might, maybe, be vaguely unhappy.

Cody was the first one to pull Kenobi into a full body hug, but the rest of them weren't far behind. Helix managed to get a hand on the General's head. He had to hug in close to the other _Vod'e_ ; Kenobi was well and truly covered.

He was tense as hell, too. While the General wasn't pulling away, he wasn't relaxing into their touch as he had been for the last several weeks. If anything, he got twitchier. 

"What the kriffing sith-spit hells are you thinking?" Cody asked roughly. "We don't want you to go. You're our General."

There was hurt in Cody's voice, too. A sharp sting that cut them all in the network and that most of them echoed back.

Helix wasn't hurt, or at least not in the same way. After all of his reading, he'd half expected this kind of attitude from the General. His upset didn't come from the insult of what Kenobi had implied; it came from knowing that his _Vod_ was so badly damaged. The General had been treated so poorly for so long, and there wasn't a Force-blessed thing that they could do about it.

Kenobi jerked nervously in their hold. His hands fluttered around like he couldn't figure out what to do with them. 

"You are all very… you're very interested in training him," the General said. As if that explained kriffing anything.

"Yes?" Cody could pack a lot of confusion into just one word. 

Helix cradled the General's head in his hand, and rubbed his thumb in little circles over his scalp as he squeezed a little closer. The General still wasn't trying to get away, so Helix counted that as acceptance, at least. 

They needed to tread carefully. At the first sign of a desire to escape, they'd have to step back. They had to.

"It stands to reason that my younger self would prove to be a more ideal general for you, once he was trained properly." Kenobi sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. He hastened to add, "I wouldn't blame you at all. I have a rather excessive list of--"

" _Stop_ ," Cody growled. 

Helix was immensely grateful, because that? That had _hurt_.

"We aren't giving you up. Not in any way, not ever." 

Helix could feel how Cody was desperately holding himself in check. 

He shifted around so that he could plaster himself to Cody's back and still reach over his shoulder to have a hand on Kenobi. He wrapped his other arm around Cody's chest and squeezed him tight. They wouldn't let go of _either_ of them. 

Cody took a slow breath, visibly calming himself down. 

"We are excited to see him _because_ he's you. Our _jetii_ ," Cody said. 

The General didn't say anything for a long while. Every _Vod_ reached out through the bonds and threw forward the feeling of welcome and belonging and love. A little bit of the General's shivering twitchiness stilled, though he wasn't close to relaxed.

"Let us in," Helix said quietly. He ran his hand through the General's fluffy copper hair and tried to imbue as much comfort as he could into the gesture. "We'll help, I promise."

Slowly, little bit by little bit, the General leaned into them. His shields were still up, and there was still a distant sense of distress leaking through to them. Which meant that he was an absolute panicked mess on the inside.

With a few nudges, Cody shifted them all around so that they were properly laying down. Helix stayed at Cody's back, guarding him and stabilizing him at the same time. Cody pulled the General tighter to him and the rest of the _Vod'e_ got as close as they could.

"We're here. We aren't leaving," Cody said softly. 

"We're safe," Helix added. "It's alright to be hurt around us."

That caused the General to softly shudder. One of his arms crept out and wrapped around Cody's torso.

It absolutely terrified Helix that their General was having the same problems that a _Vod_ might have with showing weakness. A _Vod_ who was deemed defective or substandard would be sent for brutal retraining, or worse, decommissioning. What the _kriff_ had the Jedi done to give the General that kind of a fear reaction to showing weakness?

"You're safe. _Morut'yc, Vod_ ," Cody said, picking up Helix's cue. 

The repetition seemed to help. 

Sooner than Helix expected, some of Kenobi's shields came down. The fact that _any_ of them had come down was a kriffing triumph. 

The General's suffering soaked through the network, oozing out a little at a time as he dropped some of his defenses. 

This was so much like the episode where the General had relived his bond with his master being destroyed. His heart _ached_. The difference was, this agony was a layered, complex thing. Jinn's death and abandonment had been a single moment in time. A very painful one, but finite. 

What Helix felt from him now was much, much worse. There was no sense of just one memory, or a specific event. There were countless ones. Deaths and losses and cruel treatment that had left the General more than certain that, eventually, everyone would leave him. 

The most prominent thing was a resigned sort of dread. It wasn't fear. There was too much acceptance for it to be fear. 

"We aren't leaving you. We wouldn't trade you, not for anyone," Helix said. 

"We're keeping the Cadet," Cody added. "But you will always be our General."

The razorwire ball of hurt and terror coming from Kenobi unwound a little more. As the fear left him, guilt and shame took its place.

"You're alright, _Vod_ ," Wooley said. He was wrapped up tight to Kenobi's back. 

"Everyone worries about getting left behind," Waxer added. "You're one of us. We know."

They reached out in the network and tried to show him that they really did know how he felt. He was like a _Vod_ who'd lost his batchmates.

The General pulled them closer and tucked his head down as he finally let go of the last bit of his tension. His shields dropped a little more as he mentally leaned into them.

 _Good_.

Helix's thought was echoed by the rest of them. That's what they were all there for, to support one another. The General allowed himself this kind of comfort so rarely, even now that he was in the network. Before their trip back in time, he never had. Getting him to accept it at all was a relief.

Decades of built up loneliness and unhappiness mingled with a bittersweet gratitude.

"Thank you, _Vod'e_ ," Kenobi said quietly. His voice was rough and dry. "I'd do whatever you needed me to, even if it meant stepping down for--"

 _For a better version of myself_.

It went unsaid but not unfelt. 

Their denial to that thought was instant, as if they'd all shouted _no_ at the same time.

"Not better. Just different," Helix said firmly. 

"We love him because he's you. Not the other way around, General," Waxer said.

Kenobi internally struggled with this. They held him as a lifetime of learned expectations warred in his mind with the current reality of how very much he wanted what they were saying to be true. 

There wasn't a kriffing thing they could do for him but be there, each one of them projecting how much they cared.

The pain and hurt eased and gave way to desperate gratitude as the General allowed himself to believe what they were saying. If only for this moment.

Helix had absolutely no illusions about this sentiment lasting. That kind of ingrained habit took more than one night to unlearn. He knew it would get easier to deal with over time. Trust would build along with better experiences. 

"We'll include you with the planning from now on," Cody said. "You'll have fun. You can tell us what to expect."

"You're one of us," Crys said.

" _Vod'e an_ ," Longshot added.

The General took a sharp breath. He knew now much those words meant to them.

"It'll be alright," Helix said. Repetition helped. That's what both his reading and his experience told him. 

"... Alright," Kenobi whispered. He didn't believe it. But he believed in _them_.

That was enough for now.

\--

\--- POV: young Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

Obi-Wan was almost tempted to say that the trip on the space ship was torture, if not for a few key facts.

First, he'd been having dreams and visions of his brothers and his other self now for weeks and weeks. He knew what real torture was. Obi-Wan tried very hard not to think about that. When he couldn't help it, Master Sy was there and his plushy tooka was there and eventually he was able to think about other things. 

Second, Master Sy had a seemingly never ending supply of activities to keep him occupied. There were lessons and games and things to color. There were even some holo recordings, which was a rare treat. 

It was just that Obi-Wan was _so excited_.

Sleep came slowly. More often than not, Master Sy just laid down with him until he slept. Which was nice. Space was cold. Obi-Wan had known that it would be. It was still a surprise to _feel_ it. 

When they finally dropped out of hyperspace, Obi-Wan thought he might bounce right out of his skin. They'd been in space for _days_. The ship was really cool, but Obi-Wan was way past ready to be outside again. 

It took forever for them to actually land. Master Sy let him sit in the cockpit to watch through the window as they got closer. He was strapped into the chair so he couldn't reach any of the buttons to help, but Master Sy said that he knew which buttons to press and that Obi-Wan didn't need to do anything.

Obi-Wan still wanted to. They glowed. 

They hit the landing pad with a light bump and Obi-Wan was already trying to get his harness off.

"I'll get it, Obi-Wan," Master Sy said with a laugh. "I know, I know, we're going. Just try to stay in sight of me, alright?"

"Yes, Master Sy." Obi-Wan wasn't paying much attention to the words. His _vod'e_ were outside! He could feel them, just on the edge of his mind.

There was something big there waiting for him. He just _knew_ it. 

Master Sy held his hand as they made their way to the ramp of their small ship. The moment it was down, Obi-Wan was out and running, slipping out of Master Sy's hand like he was made of the wind.

There!

His _vod'e_ stood in weirdly dark armor, with their buckets off and tucked under their arms. Next to them were his other self, Master Doo, and two older _Mando'ad'e_. 

" _VOD'E_ ," Obi-Wan yelled, and barreled right into them. He used just a touch of the Force on his last step so he could get the proper amount of height on his jump, crashing right into Cody's chest.

He knew it was Cody, even though his face was younger and smaller and smoother. Obi-Wan hugged him until he thought he might break something, holding him so tight that his little loth-cat plushy was squished nearly flat between Obi-Wan's body and Cody's black armor. 

Cody laughed and wrapped his arms around him. "Easy, Cadet," he said. His voice sounded as happy as Obi-Wan felt, so Obi-Wan didn't bother letting up his hug.

There was something, _something_ , around his _vod'e_. Shields. Very familiar shields. 

They were Obi-Wan's. The older him. Not made by him but definitely made by him. It was confusing. Ultimately, it wasn't worth thinking about, because they were still _Obi-Wan's_ shields.

He slipped through them like water. Or maybe his older self let him.

The _snap_ in the Force was almost audible, and suddenly Obi-Wan wasn't alone in his head. He could feel glowing bonds connecting him to all of his _vod'e_ , strong and so Light that they drowned out everything else close by.

Obi-Wan threw himself into the feeling, pouring his own excitement and boundless joy into those bonds. Here they were! This was what he'd been missing! His brothers, his family, the other half to himself. 

Surprise and pleasure echoed back to him, along with the sense of welcome and love.

"Cody! You're Cody!" Obi-Wan bubbled, giggling with happiness.

"Yes, I am." Cody's smile was like sunlight, warm and golden. 

"I dreamed about you! We're best friends ‘nd we fly all around the galaxy ‘nd we keep each other safe ‘nd you are always my favorite!" Obi-Wan wiggled back and forth in Cody's arms, rocking them both. 

There were snickers around him and amusement rippled through the bonds. They were laughing and Obi-Wan was laughing with them because this was _great_.

Cody's cheeks were turning light pink and Obi-Wan loved him so much. He leaned in and left a kiss on Cody's cheek, just like Crèche Master Tinna would when Obi-Wan was a good boy, and that made everyone even more happy. Cody's face turned even more red, but he felt pleased.

Embarrassment radiated quietly down one of the bonds. Obi-Wan's other self.

Obi-Wan turned and reached out with the Force to drag him into the hug. His other self allowed this, and in an instant they were face to face.

He looked older. Not just in his face, though he was older there, too. It was his eyes. His eyes looked tired.

"Hi, Obi-Wan," Obi-Wan said, grinning. He wrapped an arm around his older self and pulled, settling their foreheads together. 

He knew why his older self was so tired. He'd seen it. Tired and alone and buried under work and worry. 

"Ben," his older self said. "I'm Ben while I'm here." He didn't move away.

Obi-Wan dove down the bonds, throwing all of himself into the newly established link between him and his older self. There were shields; Obi-Wan didn't bother trying to get through them. He just _hugged_. Wrapped Ben up in as much admiration and love and care as he could, because his older self needed it.

"You're a great Jedi," Obi-Wan said softly. He tried to project just how amazed he was at what Ben had grown into, and how much Obi-Wan admired him.

Ben took a sharp breath and threaded an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders, holding him tight. There were a dozen different worries and problems and, Force, so many _plans_ swirling around in Ben's mind, just on the edge of Obi-Wan's awareness. The aching hurt was familiar, too, repeated in a hundred dreams and visions.

Obi-Wan just held their minds close together and let himself be as warm and comforting as he could as he waited for the upset to fade away. He thought about how Crèche Master Tinna did that for him when he was upset. How she filled the Force with an endless wellspring of peace and love. 

"We're all gonna be alright," Obi-Wan said. 

"Yes," Ben answered quietly, though his eyes were pressed tightly closed. 

"Because we're gonna make sure of it," Obi-Wan added fiercely.

"Yes," Ben said, this time with a slightly trembling laugh.

Obi-Wan slowly let his hold relax until there was a little more space between their minds and he was just a couple inches away from Ben's face rather than nose to nose.

"I'm pretty sure that fire solves all of our problems," Obi-Wan said seriously. 

Ben's eyes danced with laughter, and maybe a touch of that look that Obi-Wan remembered feeling in dreams when his padawan did something reckless. 

"Talking helps, too," Ben said dryly.

Obi-Wan felt pretty dubious about that and made sure his expression showed it. "You mean talking while we're lightin' fires, right? That's how all the dreams go."

Ben sighed. "That does describe a depressingly large portion of my life, yes."

At this point, the older _Mando'ad'e_ were practically crying with laughter, the _Vod'e_ were all giggling, and Obi-Wan could feel Master Sy sigh. 

That problem solved, Obi-Wan started to look around. He took in the sight of his _vod'e_ and started counting.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, se'en…" he listed off.

Then he frowned. He craned his head around behind them, but there wasn't anyone else. He looked around for other ships, and then looked up to see if the big ships were up there. But they weren't. 

"Where is everyone else?" he asked. He wanted to see his brothers. He _missed_ them.

From the startled looks on his _vod'e_ and the adults, they weren't quite sure what he was talking about.

"The rest of the brothers?" Obi-Wan asked. "The ones in white ‘nd gold ‘nd white ‘nd blue?" He looked at Cody, hoping for answers, and then to the rest of his _Vod'e_. "I always dream about them right along with you all. And..." He scrunched his face up. "I donno his name. My other favorite. He's got blue eyes on his bucket. Hawk eyes. Is he here? Do we get to see him when we go to your home? Is he on the ship?"

The confusion in his _vod'e_ turned to heartbreak.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice tiny.

Cody just squeezed him tight.

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Little Force gods, but hearing the Cadet asking about Rex, the 501st, and the 212th had been like taking a blaster bolt to the chest. All the memories that had come boiling up had just about knocked him out of his still slightly shaky emotional balance, and he'd felt the network rally around him to keep him steady.

 _Kriff,_ he missed that _Vod_. Cody felt something pull tight in his chest. What he wouldn't give to have Rex next to him, right now. That _Vod_ was more than a good friend and one of his few tightly networked _Vod'e_ ; Rex's unshakeable composure and his hypercompetence were qualities Cody had long envied and valued. Rex was as good with that blaster of his as Longshot, but claimed not to be cut out for the position of sniper, nearly as good as Cody or the General at tactics and strategy, but too modest to say so.

And just as much a pillar supporting Cody as the General.

Not having that _Vod_ at his side left Cody off-balance, and he knew it. All seven of them did.

He had to clear his throat before he could get the words out. "They're not on planet, Cadet," he said, hearing the hoarse burr of emotion in his own voice. "It's just the seven of us for now."

The Cadet gave him a very disappointed look, recovering a little from the pang of dismay-guilt-apology that he'd sent flooding through the network when he'd felt their reaction to his innocent question. "Will they come visit while Master Sy and I are here?"

Cody couldn't help the way his eyes closed at the sharp feeling of longing that idea sent rushing through him. _If only they could._

The Cadet responded to that in a way Cody hadn't expected, but probably should have. He flung himself at the network -- making it shudder around him and getting every last _Vod_ 's hand to twitch reflexively as they reached for their weapons to defend themselves from whatever had surprised them -- and then did his karking best to overwhelm Cody with adoration and reassurance.

It worked, too.

He felt his shoulders square and his spine straighten almost reflexively, and he took a shuddering breath. " _Cadet_ ," he choked out, and wrapped the little one up tight in his arms.

"I didn' mean to," the Cadet apologised.

"It's alright," Cody told him quietly. "Sometimes people say things that remind me of very sad stuff that happened. I'll be okay."

He tried to catch Kenobi's eyes, and was relieved when it worked. His General gave him a wry smile, as if to say _you wanted this_ , then came riding to Cody's rescue.

"Having the other _Vod'e_ come visit on short notice will be difficult," Kenobi said, interceding. "We'll explain once we're back at the palace, youngling. We should get back, so that you and Master Sifo-Dyas can eat and rest. Hyperspace travel can be tiring."

Master Sifo-Dyas made an amused sound. "It wasn't as terrible as all that," he said, a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips, "but I certainly won't turn down the opportunity to take a proper shower."

Waxer piped up, then. "We brought a second speeder, so that there would be space for everyone."

The Cadet's grip on him tightened, and Cody just _knew_ he had been designated the Cadet's minder, for the time being. He didn't really mind it, but it itched at something in the back of his head in a way that he couldn't _quite_ put his finger on.

Shoving the thought aside for later consideration, he tried to put the Cadet down. And failed miserably.

The youngling was stuck to him like glue. "No," the Cadet declared. "I'm staying _right here_."

General Kenobi snorted. "Why's that, Obi-Wan?"

"I made Cody sad, so now he needs hugs. You were, too, but now you're okay again."

 _Kark,_ this little one was going to strip him of every inch of dignity he owned, and Cody couldn't even find it in himself to care. "You'll have to let go once we're in the speeder," he pointed out. "We'll all have to put on our safety harnesses."

The Cadet outright pouted at him. "Can't you hold me instead?"

Cody felt himself waver. The faith in him and that adoration the Cadet was projecting were karking difficult to resist, but he knew he had to. If he gave in now, he'd give in again, and again... _and again_. "I'll hold you some more once we're back at the palace," he said instead. "In the speeder, basic safety protocols apply."

Obi-Wan huffed at him. "But I'd be fine, I have the Force."

This was sounding more and more like the General's story about going base jumping. _Force help us all. How do I even argue against that?_

"It would hardly be fair if you got to sit in Cody's lap and not wear a harness, while the rest of us do," the General pointed out, coming to his rescue.

"Oh." The Cadet considered that. "I think I got it. The _Vod'e_ would be sad they couldn't take theirs off!"

That... was far closer to the truth than Cody was willing to admit. "You don't want to make the others sad, do you?"

Waxer and Boil snickered at the put out expression on the Cadet's face. He visibly still wanted to wriggle out of wearing the harness, but also didn't want to disappoint them. It was kind of adorable, but Cody knew that when that kind of reasoning stopped being effective, they'd be in _real_ trouble.

"Well, no," the Cadet admitted after a few seconds. "But I still think it's dumb."

"Lots of rules sound dumb, Cadet," Helix put in, "but they're there to make sure everyone stays safe. Even if you have the Force, what happens if something goes wrong and you don't have time to use it? Having the Force is just like carrying a blaster or any other defense. It takes time to apply it to the problem."

General Kenobi made a rueful face. "If having the Force meant I was always safe, no matter what, Obi-Wan," he said, "I'd have a lot fewer scars."

"Fine, I'll wear the stupid ha'ness," the Cadet conceded grumpily. "But I wan' lots'a hugs afterwards!"

Waxer grinned. "We can do that, Cadet."

Master Sifo-Dyas gave the Cadet a pointed look, and Cody felt himself gradually released. He helped the Cadet down to the ground, and was entirely unsurprised to feel the youngling grab for his hand instead.

"Come on, come on, _come on_ ," he muttered, doing his best to drag Cody along behind him.

He was more successful than Cody would ever have expected. Was the Cadet using the Force to help him?

Rather than help him free himself, his _Vod'e_ simply formed up behind them, snickering and not bothering to hide it, and followed as Cody found himself doing his best not to step on the Cadet's heels.

General Kenobi and the adults followed along behind them, and Cody was sure they were internally laughing at him, too. He bit back a sigh. At least _they_ weren't doing it out loud.

The Cadet somehow managed to lead the way unerringly to the pair of speeders they'd brought, and then started climbing up Cody's armour. "If I have ta wear the stupid ha'ness, will you help me put it on?"

"Sure, Cadet," Cody shifted until he could get his arms comfortably around the youngling and then lift him up over the side of the speeder and into a seat.

As kriffing sure as he was that he would wind up sitting next to the little one, he made sure that Obi-Wan ended up in the middle seat of the back bench of the speeder, so that he could preempt that discussion. Getting the Cadet settled and strapped in was surprisingly easy after that. 

Cody was pretty sure that was because the Cadet was busy looking around at his first glimpse of Sundari, cataloguing everything. "So this is the spaceport, huh?"

"The facilities that keep it running, yeah," Cody answered idly as he checked the Cadet's harness to make sure it wasn't twisted, then started in on his own. "I thought you'd been in one before."

"Well... kind of?"

Cody pulled his bucket back on for the trip back, and then turned to look at the Cadet. "What does 'kind of' mean?" he asked, amused.

"Master Sy an' I didn't stay in the one on Coruscant long enough tha'-- so I could actually see any of it," the Cadet answered readily, radiating irritation. "An'-- an' then we were in hyperspace _forever_ , 'til we got here."

Unable to hold back his chuckle, Cody responded, "Forever, huh? What did you do that whole time? That sounds really boring."

That, thankfully, got the Cadet chattering happily about all the drawings he'd made for them and how amazing Master Sy was and how they weren't bored _at all_.

The Master in question, who was settling himself into the seat on the Cadet's other side, looked bemused. "Perhaps when we get to the palace you'd like to give your _vod'e_ one of those drawings, Obi-Wan."

Cody could feel Waxer and Boil focus in on their discussion sharply as they climbed into the other speeder. They rang of curiosity and excitement in the network.

The Cadet visibly got even more excited. "That's a great idea, Master Sy! I should give them _all of the drawings_!"

Jango, climbing into the front seat of the other speeder, chuckled. Their _buir_ , standing next to the one Cody was already strapped into, merely asked, "All of them? How many did you make, _jet'ika_?"

The ensuing descriptions of each one of the seemingly unending series of drawings could have lasted until they were at the Palace gates, Cody was sure, but after a few minutes the Cadet got diverted again.

\--- POV: young Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

The speeder ride was loads of fun and Obi-Wan enjoyed every minute of it. He really wanted to lean out of the side and look down, but he was very firmly strapped into place. Which was disappointing. 

Master Sy saw him struggling to get as much of a look as he could, and gave him a smile. "It's fast, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, really fast," Obi-Wan said. "Can we stand on the front?"

Cody made a choking noise.

"Not today, Obi-Wan, and not until you're older," Master Sy said. 

"But if we stood on the front, then we'd be able to really see how fast we're going," Obi-Wan reasoned.

"This is true, but you need to learn a finer control of the Force before you can do that safely."

"Awwww." Obi-Wan slumped in his chair. 

His other self was laughing at them from up in the front seat. Obi-Wan didn't see what was so funny. 

"I'll tell you what," Master Sy said. "After we've settled in, later this week we'll look around for a good place to practice Force jumps."

"Hooray!" Obi-Wan bounced in place. Force jumps were really fun! "Can my _vod'e_ come, too?"

"I don't see why not. They have jet packs." Master Sy raised an eyebrow at Cody. 

Cody gave Master Sy a look that Obi-Wan couldn't quite figure out. There was interest mixed with _oh no_ coming from him in the bond.

Obi-Wan patted him on the hand. "It'll be alright, Cody. The Force is with us, an' Master Sy will make sure none of us go splat."

That got him an even more exasperated look. Obi-Wan patted Cody's hand again, and then went back to looking outside. 

"This is the palace," Cody said, as they pulled up next to a large building. It looked familiar, and there were adults in _beskar'gam_ standing around exuding an air of focused watching. Obi-Wan wanted to meet them all. And look around. And check out all the rooms. 

He bounced in place and hugged Blocky as he took it all in. 

Everyone gathered up as they piled out of the speeders. Master Doo and a few of the others had bags. Obi-Wan recognized them as the stuff he and Master Sy brought with them.

The older _mando'ad_ nodded towards the building and said, "We've got rooms set up for you in the guest wing."

Obi-Wan frowned as he thought about that, but Cody was picking him up and carrying him inside, moving with the group.

"Is Master Doo gonna be there?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, youngling," Master Doo said. He was _so tall_ in person. Taller than everyone! He looked a little scary, too, but Obi-Wan could feel his amusement in the Force and he'd spent loads of time talking with him and Master Sy on holos, so he knew that Master Doo was secretly really nice. 

Some vague memories in the back of his head showed him a much scarier version of Master Doo, with bright yellow eyes. But that wasn't _here-and-now_ , and it was much easier to see that now that Obi-Wan had met Master Doo in person.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan asked. Cody shifted his hold, making Obi-Wan grab on to the chest plate of his armor.

"Because I have more permanent rooms elsewhere," Master Doo said easily.

"Well, that's silly," Obi-Wan said. "We should be staying with you."

That brought the group to a stop.

"What?" one of the _Vod'e_ asked, baffled. Obi-Wan was gonna have to get them to remind him of their names. His visions were sometimes fuzzy on that.

"We should stay with Master Doo." Obi-Wan was very firm on this. "Master Sy ‘nd I talk with him on holos all the time right before bed, ‘nd if we are sleeping in a room that's far away, then we'd have to run _all up and down_ the halls to do that. Crèche Master Tinna says we aren't allowed to do that, so it makes more sense for us to stay with Master Doo."

It was true. Obi-Wan didn't really think they would be allowed to run up and down the halls before bed. Though it might be fun. Really, really fun. 

He needed to find a way to do that before they left. 

Master Sy and Master Doo blinked at him.

"I could always visit you two before your bedtime," Master Doo offered.

"You just want to run up and down the halls, don't you?" Obi-Wan said suspiciously. "I understand. Me, too."

Master Sy did that thing where he covered his face so he could pretend to look like a proper Jedi and not laugh. 

"I'm gonna die," one of the _Vod'e_ said. 

"As am I, but for very different reasons," Ben muttered back at him, face red. 

"Besides, we're _aliit_ ," Obi-Wan said. "Shouldn't we stay together because we're _aliit_?"

That got him even more strange looks.

"I suppose the Jedi are an extended family," Ben said. He'd crossed one arm over his chest and tapped the knuckles of his other hand on his chin. 

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I already told Master Sy. _Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad_. That's what you say when you make someone family, and Master Sy doesn't have anyone else. Except Master Doo. So he's family, too."

Ben looked at Master Sy with raised eyebrows.

"I'm afraid that my knowledge of _Mando'a_ is significantly less competent than Obi-Wan's," Master Sy said with a shrug. "And my efforts to learn it have been slightly hampered by the fact that Mandalorians and Jedi generally don't converse."

"It's ok, Master Sy." Obi-Wan held out his loth-cat. "You wanna hold my tooka?"

Master Sy was probably feeling bad because he didn't know all the words. Holding the plushy always made Obi-Wan feel better, so maybe it would help Master Sy, too.

Master Sy smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, Obi-Wan." He took the plushy and gave it a quick hug and then handed it back. "That was very kind. Perhaps you should hold him for now?"

"Alright!" He tucked his loth-cat under his arm and waited.

No one was moving. They were all kind of watching him.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked. 

The older _mando'ad_ was the one who broke the silence. 

" _Ad_ ," he began. Then he paused. "Those words are used when you adopt a foundling. Master Sifo-Dyas is a little old for that."

Obi-Wan frowned at him. "Well, that's silly. Since when is who you care about only for people younger than you? Besides, Master Sy is part of the Council, and they get all twisted up with what they're supposed to do, ‘nd they might say unkind things to Master Sy, so he can't say _Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad_ to me. They wouldn't let him. So I said it to him."

While the older _mando'ad_ floundered through that concept, Obi-Wan tucked his chin down and looked fierce. 

"Besides," Obi-Wan said. "It's my choice. And he's not _mando'ad_ , so the words wouldn't do the same thing if he said them, anyways."

Obi-Wan's head was starting to hurt a little. There were a million half-known memories swirling around. Things that might be or maybe once were. It was hard to think straight. He pushed it aside. This was important.

"I'm not sure that's how it works, _vod'ika_ ," Cody told him quietly.

Obi-Wan shrugged. " _You_ can be not-sure, if you want."

Ben sighed and rubbed his face. "And this is how I got kicked out of the Order twice."

"You _what_?" one of the other _Vod'e_ said. The healer, if Obi-Wan remembered right.

"I had a challenging padawanship," Ben said, sounding very tired. He turned to look at Obi-Wan. "If we put you and Master Sifo-Dyas in Master Dooku's suite, will you promise to not sneak out?"

Kark, how did he know?

Obi-Wan stared at him in dismay.

Ben just raised an eyebrow at him, clearly understanding exactly what Obi-Wan's currently-nebulous plans were. 

Obi-Wan scrunched up his face and tried to think through his options. He really wanted Master Sy and Master Doo comfortable. If they were taken care of, then that meant that Obi-Wan could go spend more time with his _vod'e_. Also, Master Sy was sad a lot because Master Doo wasn't there, and by now Obi-Wan knew that Master Sy wouldn't object to distance between them because it was what he was supposed to do. So someone else had to object for him.

While agreeing to not sneak out in exchange for Master Sy and Master Doo getting to spend more time together did accomplish Obi-Wan's goal, it also meant that _he couldn't sneak out_.

He hunched his shoulders. He was _caught_ and he knew it. 

"You're twisty," he grumbled at Ben.

"Is that an agreement I hear?" Ben asked.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, sulking.

"And if you, by chance, happen to find yourself outside of your room at night for whatever reason, you will immediately let one of us know, right?" Ben added.

Force!

Obi-Wan pouted harder. 

"Yes, Ben." He glared at his older self. Then he narrowed his eyes speculatively. "But if one of you knows that I'm out of my room?"

"You cannot leave a message with us and wander off," Ben said. "No matter how interesting the rest of the palace looks."

"What if there's trouble?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Then you definitely need to find one of us and _stick to us_ ," Ben said firmly. 

That did make sense. Obi-Wan sighed. "Alright."

The older _mando'ad_ just rubbed his face with both hands. "Master Dooku?"

Master Doo waved a hand at him. "It's fine, _Mand'alor_. The new suite you assigned me has guest rooms, and I am getting the unsettling feeling that the more people watching this youngling, the better."

 _Ori'vod_ was laughing at them.

"Come on, we'll figure it out after dinner," the older _mando'ad_ said.

He waved them onward. Servants came to take the bags and there was much discussion of shifting plans.

Obi-Wan was pretty hungry, so he tried to be patient while it all got worked out.

They ended up in a dining room. It wasn't anywhere near as big as some of the ones in the Temple, but it was plenty big enough for all of them. Obi-Wan insisted on sitting next to Cody. Another _Vod_ , Waxer, sat next to him on the other side. Once they were all seated, there were introductions. Obi-Wan tried to remember all the names. Just hearing them made something click into place.

"There are numbers, too, right?" Obi-Wan said after the last of his _vod'e_ had been introduced to Master Sy. "Everyone has numbers."

Something unsettled shivered over the bonds between them and the _Vod'e_ exchanged looks.

"We were assigned numbers when we were decanted," Cody said. "But those aren't our names."

Obi-Wan nodded. That made sense. He didn't really like the numbers, so he was glad that he didn't have to know them. Just knowing _about_ them helped a little something more slide into focus in his head.

As if Master Sy could sense the confusing mire in Obi-Wan's head, he asked, "How are you feeling in the Force, Obi-Wan?"

"It's really weird, Master Sy," Obi-Wan complained. "There's stuff that's right now and stuff that happened before now, but it also hasn't happened yet, ‘nd stuff that might not ever happen, ‘nd…"

He scrunched up his face and put his head on the table.

"I know." Master Sy's soothing Force presence blanketed over him, wearing away the rough edges of the visions that churned in Obi-Wan's head. Obi-Wan sighed in relief. "If it gets to be too much, tell me and I'll help."

"Thank you, Master Sy." Obi-Wan tilted his head so that one cheek was flat on the table and he could look up and see everyone. "Is it food time yet? I'm really hungry. My stomach is all _raawnghle rumble rumble_." He rubbed his stomach to emphasise the point.

His _Vod’e_ twitched and the feeling of _glee-ahhh_ echoed through their bonds. Ben felt embarrassed, but he _looked_ fine. One day, Obi-Wan wanted to be that good at schooling his expression.

Humor danced in Master Sy's eyes. "Soon, little one."

Waxer rubbed a circle on Obi-Wan's back and that was very nice.

Pretty soon, food did show up. There were all kinds of things that Obi-Wan had never seen and a bunch of stuff that he'd only seen in visions and dreams. Cody helped him by putting small samples of a variety of things on his plate as everyone else talked around them.

Obi-Wan poked at his food dubiously.

"Try the pudding," Waxer said, leaning over to talk like he was sharing a secret. "It's the best."

One taste and Obi-Wan knew he was right. The pudding was _great_. Obi-Wan ate it as quickly as possible.

That positive experience encouraged him to try some of the other things that had been set out for him. There was something that looked like red rice, which wasn't so bad. There were green things, which Obi-Wan on principle didn't care for, but dutifully tried a bite of anyways.

Then there was a pile of meat in heavy sauce. It looked a very appealing shade of orange, so Obi-Wan tried that one with enthusiasm.

It _burned_.

Force, but it burned. 

Obi-Wan promptly spat it back onto his plate.

"Ahhhhh!" He couldn't get it out of his mouth fast enough. His mouth was on _fire_. Before he could even stop himself, he'd swallowed, and then the fire went down to his stomach, which was worse!

There were some snickers around the room. Obi-Wan wanted to glare at them, but he was too busy licking a napkin to get all the fire off of his tongue. 

"Master Sy, why?!" he asked in between licks. "Is this poison? Are we bein’ poisoned?"

Ben passed over a cup of blue milk. Obi-Wan ignored it in favor of wiggling in place. The burning!

"It's not poison, Obi-Wan, it's just spicy."

Obi-Wan looked at Master Sy in horror. "Is this the Dark Side?" he asked. "Crèche Master Tinna said that the Dark Side eats you from the inside out and _that is happening right now_! Master Sy, I'm gonna Fall!"

"Doesn't seem that bad to me," Waxer muttered next to him, poking the meat sauce.

"It's not," Boil answered.

"It _is_ ," Obi-Wan insisted. "It's the Dark Side! Look, it's pretending to be nice, next to the pudding ‘nd the other nice foods, and it's not! It sneaked in while we weren't looking!"

The _Mand'alor_ and _ori'vod_ were cackling so hard that they were nearly bent over the table. Master Sy and Master Doo both looked amused, and the _Vod'e_ looked like they were trying to laugh and wince at the same time. Ben was watching him with sympathy.

"Drink the milk, Obi-Wan. It helps lessen the burn," Ben said.

Obi-Wan gave it a try, and it did help. He drank the cup as quickly as he could. 

"So it _is_ poison," he said, scowling at the plate.

Ben's eyes were smiling, so Obi-Wan counted that as a win. "It's not. It's just spicy. The food they serve at the Temple is made so that it appeals to the most number of people, but Mandalorians like their food hot. This isn't even close to as spicy as good Mandalorian food can get."

"Besides," Master Doo said, in between prim bites of food. "We'll tell you once we start poison training."

The _mando'ad'e_ at the table all stopped and stared at him, but Master Sy and Ben were nodding.

"Learning to cleanse your body of toxins is a very important ability for a Jedi," Master Sy said. "You won't start working on that skill for a few years, but once you do, we'll begin with very low grade impurities and poisons. Nothing that would truly harm you. Just enough so that you will be able to track the progress through your system. Over time, we'll increase the dose and toxin level, until your final trial for that particular skill."

"Really, _jetii_? You poison your _ad'e_?" The _Mand'alor_ asked. His distaste was present in the Force. 

"In controlled situations as a learning tool, yes," Master Doo said. "And always with a master present and with an antidote on hand."

"That's an easier way than how I learned it," Ben said with a casual shrug. "My master and I had run into a spice ring in the lower levels of Coruscant. There was a fight, and I ended up landing in a full crate of spice cut with hallucinogens." 

He shook his head ruefully and took another bite of the Dark Side meat. He seemed unbothered by it. Obi-Wan was really impressed. His older self was amazing.

"You're joking," Cody hissed, though it was very obvious he didn't really think that what Ben said was a joke. He sounded mad.

Ben hummed at him. "I knew the basics of toxin cleansing, but not nearly enough to make a dent. The hallucinogens screwed with my Force senses as well. If not for my master's quick efforts, I likely would have died from overdose. Which… now that I think of it. Perhaps you should start training young Obi-Wan on that skill a little earlier than I did." He raised an eyebrow at Master Sy.

The _Vod'e_ were all staring at him in horror and Helix's face was turning bright red.

The _Mand'alor_ set down his fork and leaned his forehead on his hand. "The more I hear about your master, the more I want to punch him."

"What?" Ben sounded baffled. "He saved my life."

"He put you in that situation to begin with," Helix snarled, stabbing something on his plate with what Crèche Master Tinna would have called 'excessive force'. 

Ben shrugged. "These things happen to Jedi."

Master Sy and Master Doo exchanged a dark look that implied that they didn't really agree with him.

Obi-Wan prodded his Dark Side meat with his fork, pushing it back and forth across his plate. As he did so, little bits of dreams and visions floated by his mind's eye.

"Was that with the bug people?" Obi-Wan asked. He vaguely remembered something about giant bug people and being really, really sick.

Ben shook his head. "Nope. Allergy to the local cuisine. Nearly puked out my --" He glanced towards Obi-Wan and then shrugged. "Well, I expect you've seen it."

Yeah. That wasn't fun. 

"Was it the pirates?" Obi-Wan asked. He thought he remembered a cell?

Truthfully, he remembered a lot of cells.

"Which time?" Ben asked. "Force suppressants, when injected, are incredibly unpleasant. Although... It's possible that the bug people you're thinking of were one of the instances with Force suppressants, too. The galaxy has an astonishing variety of sentient life."

Obi-Wan hummed and screwed up his face as he tried to parse through all the dreams. There were so many and it was all confusing. 

"The desert?" Obi-Wan asked.

Ben shook his head. "No. That was heat exhaustion. For the future, remember to hydrate. And never drink the juice of an unknown cactus."

Helix made a strangled noise low in his throat.

Obi-Wan rubbed his head. "There's a lot to remember. Or not remember."

"There is," Ben agreed quietly. 

Obi-Wan put his head back on the table, pushing his plate aside. "I don't want to think about it any more."

His stomach was turning, and he couldn't tell if it was the Dark Side meat or the remembered illness from so many dreams.

"That's alright, Obi-Wan, you don't need to," Ben said gently. A wave of warmth flooded into him through their bond, wrapping him in peace. 

Obi-Wan let Ben into his mind as easy as he did with Crèche Master Tinna. It felt like soft hands were holding all the sharp bits of the visions away from him. He knew in his bones that it wouldn't last, but he was grateful for it all the same.

He relaxed into the table and let out a sigh.

"Thanks, Ben."

"Anytime you need my aid, I will be there for you," Ben said solemnly. 

The promise rang through the Force and down into Obi-Wan's heart. Obi-Wan leaned into it, letting himself rest on his older self's strength. 

"You're wrong about the meat," Obi-Wan said, poking at it with his fork. He didn't bother sitting up. Laying his head on the table was much nicer. "It's the Dark Side for sure."

Ben snorted and took another bite.

"You're just showin' off." Obi-Wan tried to emulate Master Drallig's unimpressed look. "You eat poison all the time, ‘course you'd eat Dark Side meat."

"Delicious, delicious meat," Ben said, and then proceeded to lick his fork. 

Obi-Wan and Ben shared a moment of understanding. Everyone around them had gotten all quiet and unhappy. Teasing each other might make them lighten up.

"Is it like Vaapad?" Obi-Wan asked. 

Ben barked out a laugh. "You think I've balanced the Light and the Dark inside myself, so that I can successfully eat Mandalorian curry?"

That caused a few snickers.

Good. Their plan was working.

It was really fun to share plans like this, knowing that his other self would _know_ what to do right away.

"I bet Master Mace could eat all the curry," Obi-Wan said, finally levering himself upright again. "He's really good at Vaapad."

"You should take some back to the Temple with you and have him try it," Ben suggested. "Though I request that you have Master Sifo-Dyas take holos of the event."

Obi-Wan gasped. "That's a really good idea!"

Now it was Master Doo's turn to laugh, short and sharp. "Please, please record it, Master Sifo-Dyas. I beg of you."

Master Sy's eyes twinkled and his mouth twitched. "I might be able to arrange that."

"Holos. I want holos." Ben raised his eyebrow at them expectantly.

"I promise nothing," Master Sy said. There was still a hint of a smile on his face, though.

"That means yes," Obi-Wan whispered to Ben.

Ben winked at him. "Thanks, Obi-Wan."

Master Doo gave Master Sy a pitying look. "What have you gotten yourself into, Master Sifo-Dyas?"

Master Sy just raised his eyebrow. "Me? I am certain that you misspoke. I'm sure that was _we_ , that you were saying. What have _we_ gotten ourselves into."

"Fun things?" Obi-Wan said hopefully.

Master Sy smiled at him. "I'm sure it will be."

Warmth coiled in Obi-Wan's chest and he bounced in place a little. "I'm so excited," he said quietly.

"Good," Master Sy said, nodded. "Now. You don't have to eat the spicy stuff, but have some more of something else. If Crèche Master Tinna finds out that you went hungry even once, I think I might never leave my rooms at the Temple again for fear of her."

"Yes, Master Sy," Obi-Wan said dutifully. 

Before he could say anything, Waxer was adding more of the wonderful pudding to his plate. Obi-Wan beamed a smile up at him and dug in.

\--


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the Single Smutty Chapter. Do remember to keep your hands and heads inside the ride, and if you'd rather not read it, click the link.
> 
> Also worth noting, for those of you who might have missed it and are interested in some high octane crack treated seriously, is that we can offer some ridiculous nonsense we co-wrote for Halloween: [Kit From The Black Lagoon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271906).

\--- POV: Master Sifo-Dyas ---

Sifo-Dyas was unsurprised that dinner lasted a fairly long time. The _vod'e_ had a great deal to talk about with young Obi-Wan. Most of the adults' attention was on them as well, though possibly for different reasons.

Jaster Mereel and his son Jango seemed to be genuinely delighted by Obi-Wan. He was a charming child, and the _vod'e_ were utterly enchanted. Obi-Wan had many questions, and even more opinions. Some of which just showcased his innocence while others showed a deep fundamental wisdom. 

But it had been a long, tiring day after a very long trip in hyperspace. Sifo-Dyas also knew that Obi-Wan was still struggling to come to terms with his visions. 

Over the past several weeks, Obi-Wan had grown more and more confident, in himself and in his place in the world. Crèche Master Tinna had privately expressed worries to Sifo-Dyas about the changes. 

Sifo-Dyas was of the opinion that there was little they could do to mitigate the issue, not without causing significantly more harm to Obi-Wan. He knew from his own experiences that there was no way to stop Force visions. Not without heavy use of Force suppressants. Such things were considered actual torture for a fully trained adult; giving them to a child would be beyond cruel. 

The changes in Obi-Wan were startling and unsettling, but they would have to be life threatening for Sifo-Dyas to even consider suppressants. Even then, such measures would only be a short term solution. 

No, it would be far better for Obi-Wan to learn to come to grips with what the Force was telling him. The best the rest of them could do was try to support him as he adjusted. Sifo-Dyas very dearly hoped that this trip would help. 

Based on the initial introduction between Obi-Wan and 'Ben', Sifo-Dyas thought that it would. While Ben was very tightly shielded, Obi-Wan was less so. Sifo-Dyas had also spent quite a lot of time in the last few months getting to know the youngling. 

Something had _eased_ in Obi-Wan once he'd had a chance to greet his older counterpart. With every passing minute during dinner, Sifo-Dyas could sense the turbulence in his mind quieting down. 

Sifo-Dyas kept a careful eye on him just to make sure that he didn't get overwhelmed. That could happen very quickly if they weren't cautious. 

He also watched the _vod'e_. It was obvious that Obi-Wan loved them and trusted them. Experience had taught Sifo-Dyas to be warier. 

As dinner wore on and dessert came and went, Sifo-Dyas made small talk with the _Mand'alor_ and Doo while he kept watch on Obi-Wan and his Force blessed brothers. Everything he saw made him inclined to trust them. Doo was certainly more at ease here than Sifo-Dyas would have expected. As savvy as Yan was, not many people felt truly comfortable with him around, and vice versa. 

When Obi-Wan began to visibly droop, Sifo-Dyas called an end to the meal. The _vod'e_ were disappointed but they didn't complain. Obi-Wan complained. Sifo-Dyas gave him an unimpressed look and got him moving towards Doo's rooms. 

That was something he'd have to thank the little demon for. 

Sifo-Dyas had not expected to be placed in Dooku's suite. He'd resigned himself to being able to only steal a few private moments between them throughout the whole trip. With Obi-Wan's insistence that they were family and that family should stay together, that meant that Sifo-Dyas and Doo would be able to spend every night together if they wished. 

Provided that they were discreet, anyways. The last thing any of them needed was for Obi-Wan to walk in on an indelicate moment. 

There was a very good chance that Obi-Wan was already aware of how deeply Sifo-Dyas and Doo cared for each other. If not due to his visions, then just because he'd spent a fair amount of time sharing holo calls with them both. 

Sifo-Dyas was also sure that no one else in the Order suspected them, with the exception of his old master. It was common knowledge that they were friends, yes, but neither of them were expressive people. Not in public. The taboo against attachment was incredibly strong, and both of them were high profile members of the Order, well known to everyone around them. 

It was nearly impossible to be reserved when Obi-Wan was around, though. Even Yan had let his normally icy demeanor thaw when talking to the child. 

He really was a good kid. 

It took a minimal amount of effort to get him ready for bed and tucked in to sleep in one of Doo's guest rooms. Just to be sure that the youngling rested well, Sifo-Dyas stayed with him until he was asleep.

Doo was waiting for him in the sitting room, with hot water and a cup of herbal tea ready.

"Sy." Doo smiled warmly at him.

Finally, _finally_ , they had a chance to hold each other. It was just a hug. 

It was everything.

Sifo-Dyas rested his forehead against Doo's and breathed in the scent of his beloved. Strong arms wrapped around him and held him close. 

Then Sifo-Dyas started to laugh.

"What?" Doo asked, with faux offence. Sifo-Dyas could tell he was too pleased with the situation to be truly annoyed. 

"We're headbutting," Sifo-Dyas said with a grin.

"You have no idea how relieved I am that _that_ was what young Obi-Wan had a vision of, and not something else," Doo said, exasperated. 

That just made Sifo-Dyas laugh again. 

"You jest, but it's a real concern." Doo gave him a look.

"No, I know. I'll have to have a talk with him about privacy," Sifo-Dyas said, shaking his head. 

Doo hummed. "I'm glad you're here, Sy." He pressed a soft kiss to Sy's lips.

The best possible answer that Sy could come up with was another kiss. 

"I have tea for you," Doo said once they came up for air. "And I found some Mandalorian spices for you to try."

Warmth spread through Sy's chest. He cupped Doo's jaw with one hand and brushed his thumb over Doo's smartly trimmed goatee. 

"Kind knight," Sifo-Dyas said affectionately. 

"You are the only one who thinks I'm kind," Doo said with a wry smile. 

"You do make such an effort to make friends," Sifo-Dyas retorted, dry as a desert.

They both huffed in laughter.

"Tea can wait for the morning," Sifo-Dyas said. "Bed now."

"As you wish, High Councilor," Doo murmured, and led him back to his bedroom.

It had been a long time for them. That wasn't unusual. Yan had missions to do and Sifo-Dyas had his own duties with the Council, along with the occasional research trip with Master Lene. They weren't often in the same place at the same time, and even then it frequently wasn't for long. 

Honestly, Sifo-Dyas thought he might give Obi-Wan a damn cake for scheming to get Sifo-Dyas some time alone with Doo. 

Their kisses were soft and sweet and each one burned with love. If the word didn't imply so many terrible things for a Jedi, Sifo-Dyas might have been tempted to call it passion. 

As soon as they got the bedroom door closed behind them, Sifo-Dyas began to strip Doo down. 

"Such a handsome knight," Sifo-Dyas said. It was a long running joke between them. Yan was a good looking man, but his sharp features lent him more of a sinister look than anything else. 

"Appearances are important," Doo said seriously. His eyes crinkled with laughter that he wouldn't voice. That incredibly dry humor was something they shared, and what kept them going through a million stifled, public conversations. 

While Sifo-Dyas deftly unwrapped Doo's many layers and belts, Doo worked on untying Sifo-Dyas' hair. The process was slightly complicated by the fact that they were still moving towards the bed. 

It looked like a very nice bed. 

Sifo-Dyas pushed Doo down onto it.

"Impatient, are we?" Doo didn't look at all displeased by this. In fact, he shifted back onto the bed so that he was sitting upright, leaning against the headboard. 

Sifo-Dyas got their boots off with practiced ease and then crawled onto the bed to straddle Doo's thighs. 

"Just living in the here-and-now," Sifo-Dyas said absently. He ran his hands down Doo's bared chest. There were too many things that he wanted to do. He couldn't decide.

"Come here." Doo's voice was dark and warm and _perfect_. The man had a wonderful voice, especially when it went low and rough. He threaded a hand into Sifo-Dyas's hair and pulled him down into another kiss. 

Force, but Sifo-Dyas had missed him. 

He licked into Doo's mouth, feeling warm despite the climate controlled room they were in. The faint scent of tea and spices filled the air and added to the soft scent of Doo's skin. As Sifo-Dyas sucked and tasted, he ground their hips together, and got an answering growl in return. 

"You're too dressed," Doo said breathlessly.

"Don't care." Sifo-Dyas fumbled with Doo's pants. He wasn't interested in waiting. They'd have time for something more leisurely later.

He was already achingly hard and every place their skin touched felt like sparks, hot and wonderful. 

Their minds brushed together, sharing the pleasure that they both felt at being together again. Slowly, gently, Sifo-Dyas let his Force presence mingle with Doo's. Between the two of them, Sifo-Dyas was more gifted in the Force. He always took care to keep his mental touch tender when they shared pleasure like this.

Doo's mind welcomed him the same way his hands pulled Sifo-Dyas closer, crushing them together.

They'd grown up together. Had been best friends since childhood and lovers since they were old enough to want such things. They both were well acquainted with what the other liked. Their relationship wasn't precisely secret; Jedi weren't sworn to celibacy, after all. The level of their commitment to one another was. 

So Doo knew exactly what he was doing when he slipped his hand under Sifo-Dyas' robes and down into his pants. He knew just where to touch and how to move so that Sifo-Dyas was nearly shaking with need. Doo had such excellent hands, too. Just the right side of rough, and Force, large enough to get a good handful.

"Please," Sifo-Dyas whispered. Any thoughts about getting them into a more comfortable position had long since fled. He rocked into Doo's hold on him. 

This was good. Fabulous. Doo always knew just how to take care of him. Enough friction to drive him to distraction but not so much that the game was over too quickly. 

It was pure habit that had Sifo-Dyas shielding them both more heavily. Neither of them had ever wanted their private affairs made public, and that would be especially disastrous with a small Force sensitive child sleeping a couple rooms away. 

Doo kept up his maddening pace as Sifo-Dyas writhed in his grip. They weren't even kissing anymore, just sharing breath the same way they were sharing their thoughts. Sifo-Dyas could feel just how pleased Doo was at the success of his efforts to turn Sifo-Dyas into mindless, pleasured-out wreck. 

"My beautiful Sy," Doo growled into his ear. "Let me see how much you are enjoying yourself."

The sound that Sifo-Dyas made was incoherent. Knowing that Doo was delighting in watching Sifo-Dyas lose his mind made him fall apart that much faster. 

In an act of pure self-defense, he trailed his mouth down Doo's jaw until he was leaving soft nips at his neck. They didn't dare leave marks, but the light sting of teeth on skin left Doo shivering under him. 

Doo was one of the best duelists in the Order, and Force but it showed. He was gorgeous, and Sifo-Dyas adored him. He was going to lick every inch of skin that he could. 

Or he would once Doo's clever hand let him have some brain power to work with. For the moment, all he could do was try to keep himself quiet. He struggled to stay still, to let Doo work him over. It was a losing battle. He bit down, gently, always gently, on Doo's shoulder and let out a soft whine.

"Oh, that's a good sound." Doo's wicked smile was audible, and his hand sped up.

Sifo-Dyas tried to move with it, grinding down into Doo's hand. His efforts did nothing to hurry Doo along, and instead only served to make him more desperate. He curled his hand down Doo's torso, relishing the feel of lean muscle under him.

Close. 

He couldn't think. 

There was just the feel of his beloved in between his legs, stroking him _just right_. Their breaths stuttered together as they felt each other's pleasure. 

Doo's other hand tightened in his hair, just enough to anchor him. Just enough to take a little bit of control. Sifo-Dyas melted into it, trusting that Doo would care for him.

Two more shuddering breaths later and he was coming. Doo kept up his delicious onslaught, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of him. Sifo-Dyas arched up into him and Doo held him tight. The heart pounding waves of bliss were heightened by Doo's savage glee at feeling Sifo-Dyas lose himself so completely. He _liked_ how Sifo-Dyas was twisting on top of him, unable to get away and just as unable to hold still. 

When his orgasm had passed, Sifo-Dyas lay panting on Doo's chest. Sweat trickled down his back and Doo's warm hands roamed over him, calming and possessive at the same time. 

Doo was still very hard. Arousal burned through him. Sifo-Dyas could almost taste it in the air.

"I am definitely repaying you," Sifo-Dyas said weakly. He took another rough breath. Force, he'd had whole 'sabre training sessions that hadn't left him this tired. "In a second."

Doo chuckled silently under him and just kept up his soft caresses. 

He was glad that he'd gotten Doo's tunics and belts off right away, because that meant he had less to do now. Sifo-Dyas took another breath, catching his balance again, and then finally made good on his earlier thought of licking every scrap of skin that he could find. 

Much of his own release had be caught by his clothes. He licked and sucked away what little traces he could find on Doo’s well muscled stomach. By the time he'd reached the sharp line of Doo's very nice hips, Doo's breath was coming out in harsh pants. 

Sifo-Dyas took a moment to finally strip off his own tunics and belts. The dark, hungry look that Doo gave him was distinctly satisfying. 

It had been far, far too long since they'd had time to really enjoy themselves. They had all night. Sifo-Dyas would make sure that they both enjoyed every second of it.

He smiled wickedly as he smoothed his hands down Doo's torso. He stroked Doo’s cloth covered cock with one hand while he teased at opening the ties on Doo’s trousers with the other. As a knight on duty, Doo often wore heavier synthleather pants with a built in cup. Today he’d opted for something softer without the added protection. Clearly, he’d hoped that they would be able to catch some alone time.

Doo didn't bother to hurry him along. He just did that little full body shift that let Sifo-Dyas know that he was holding his control by the skin of his teeth. 

Sifo-Dyas was overly cautious in pulling Doo's pants off. It was a deliberate tease. Doo had to be as impatient as Sifo-Dyas was earlier, but he held himself in check. They both knew that Sifo-Dyas would make it worth his while. 

Once Doo was properly naked, Sifo-Dyas leaned down to kiss a line up one thigh. He held on to Doo's hips, carefully avoiding exactly where Doo wanted him to touch most. 

Doo dropped his head back against the headboard with a solid _thunk_. But he didn't move. That just made Sifo-Dyas grin more. 

He licked and kissed his way up to Doo's cock, enjoying the lightly salty taste of skin. He curled one hand around the base, holding Doo's stiff length just a bare breath away from his lips.

"Sy," Doo said in a strangled voice.

"Watch," Sifo-Dyas said.

Doo's cock jumped in his hand and Doo immediately looked down at the lovely scene that Sifo-Dyas was very purposely making. Excitement curled around them both, where their minds were still linked. Oh, how Doo liked watching Sifo-Dyas. It was beyond flattering, and Sifo-Dyas did like to indulge Doo whenever he could.

He started with slow, long licks, from root to crown. Partially to drive Doo as thoroughly insane as he could, and partially because he knew that he'd want every bit of Doo's formidable cock wet. Kriff, but he was large all over. Sifo-Dyas wasn't sure if it was the size he enjoyed or just the fact that it was _Doo_. 

Doo's breathing went rough and his eyes were dark. Sifo-Dyas made sure to look up at him from time to time; every time he did, Doo tensed up and very visibly restrained himself from squirming in place.

Such control. Sifo-Dyas loved it. 

He gathered up spit in his mouth and then licked wetly around Doo's cockhead. There was just a little precome leaking out of him and Sifo-Dyas took great satisfaction in sucking it clean.

" _Sy_ ," Doo pleaded. His hands were tightly fisted in the bed sheets and his jaw was clenched so hard that Sifo-Dyas could see the muscles jump.

Just as Doo liked to watch Sifo-Dyas fall apart, so did Sifo-Dyas enjoy bringing Doo to the very edge of his control. 

Sifo-Dyas carefully untangled one of Doo's hands from the sheets and brought it up so that Doo could thread his fingers through his hair. Much practice together meant that each of them knew how far the other liked to go with that. Both of them preferred to start gentle.

As soon as Doo got a good hold, Sifo-Dyas sucked his cockhead into his mouth. He took his time laving his tongue all over the thick crown, savoring the slightly bitter taste of Doo's building pleasure. It really was a mouthful. 

Slowly, he worked his way down, fitting more and more in his mouth. Doo's hand in his hair tightened, but he didn't take over. He let Sifo-Dyas take his time. 

Just as the blunt tip touched the back of Sifo-Dyas's throat, he pulled back, letting Doo's cock slip out of his mouth with a soft _pop_. Before Doo could do more than groan in protest, Sifo-Dyas licked down his full length and then sucked him right back into his mouth. 

Back and forth he went, alternating licking with ever deeper swallows. He knew he needed to work up to getting all of Doo's cock down his throat. Plus, it was intensely satisfying to watch Doo struggle to stay still. The scent of spit and skin was overwhelming and every little noise that Doo made was the sweetest music that Sifo-Dyas had ever heard. 

Doo's mind echoed with rapture. Sifo-Dyas backed off a little, enough so his lover could get himself under control again. He lazily stroked Doo's cock as Doo took long, slow breaths.

"I think you may actually kill me," Doo said, closing his eyes.

"What a way to go," Sifo-Dyas said with a smirk. Then he went back to work.

Force, but Doo's reactions alone were getting him hard again. Sifo-Dyas suddenly didn't want to draw this out any more. Doo had been wonderfully kind, letting Sifo-Dyas get his pleasure first. Now Sifo-Dyas wanted to give him a proper reward.

He took a careful breath and then swallowed Doo's cock down to the root. He couldn't breathe at all like this, and it didn't matter in the slightest. He had excellent breath control. 

Doo's hand tightened again on Sifo-Dyas's hair as he arched up and let out a quiet groan. Force, but there was so much of him. It was impossible to stop himself from trying to swallow, which did nothing but make Doo's hips twitch forward before he could stop himself. 

Sifo-Dyas pulled back just a little, just enough to properly kriff his own throat on Doo's cock. 

Doo was making the best sounds. So much so that Sifo-Dyas pulled back enough to take another breath, and then started the process all over again. Just as Doo was about to fall apart, Sifo-Dyas sent him a mental nudge, the barest hint of an image of Doo pushing him down with the hand in his hair. 

He let himself relax so that Doo could move him as he wanted. Doo immediately got the hint and guided him up and down, pulling him back until only the head was still in his mouth, and then slowly pushing at him until Sifo-Dyas' nose was buried in skin. 

Arousal burned through him along with soul deep trust. He allowed himself to let go, to not worry about anything but just making Doo feel _wonderful_. 

As that feeling ricocheted through both of their minds, Doo let out a soft grunt and then bitter warmth flooded Sifo-Dyas's mouth. He swallowed over and over, eager to please. He drank Doo's release down until there was no hint of it left, just the taste of skin.

Doo guided him off of his cock and up, giving him a deep kiss. 

It took them both a minute to recover from that. They lay there, breathless and happy in each other's arms. A little smile curled across Sifo-Dyas's lips. He lightly stroked a hand down Doo's side. 

This really was a very nice bed. 

It would be a shame not to take full advantage of it.

Doo caught that thought and chuckled quietly in delight. His happiness was warm and solid in Sifo-Dyas' mind.

"Ready for round two?" Sifo-Dyas asked quietly.

Jedi stamina really was nothing to joke about. 

Doo just grinned.

\--

Sifo-Dyas woke up slowly. He was warm and comfortable and, _oh_ , those were Doo's arms around him.

"Mmmm, morning already?" Doo muttered, pulling him closer.

Sifo-Dyas hummed in response and kept his eyes shut. A quick mental check told him what he expected, that Obi-Wan was still sound asleep and likely would remain so for another couple of hours. Both Sifo-Dyas and Doo were used to working hours. Early to rise in the morning to get in an hour of meditation before the day's work began, and then off to bed at a semi-reasonable hour. Usually, anyways.

Sifo-Dyas' internal clock was still skewed from the trip through hyperspace, so he wasn't quite sure what the local time was.

He drifted for a few minutes, not quite awake but not really able to slip back to sleep. This alone was worth the trip. Just being able to spend time with Doo.

Doo let out an unhappy sound. "I should actually get up."

They'd ended up getting barely any sleep, having thoroughly exhausted each other the night before.

"It's fine," Sifo-Dyas mumbled. "We can survive on two hours of sleep. We're Jedi."

As he expected, that made Doo huff in laughter.

Doo reluctantly pulled himself out of Sifo-Dyas's embrace and wandered away to begin getting ready for the day. Sifo-Dyas buried his head back in Doo's pillow. Force, but sleeping in wasn't a thing he was frequently able to do. It looked like today would be no exception. 

Rather than putting it off any more, he sat up. He settled with his back straight, legs crossed, and hands rested on his knees, and then drifted into a light meditation. It wasn't quite the same as kneeling on a meditation mat, but the bed was comfortable and still carried Doo's scent. He'd get dressed in a minute. 

Time slipped by. 

He was roused from his meditation by a light mental touch from Doo.

"Naked on the bed? Really?" Doo said appreciatively. "Though I do enjoy the view."

Sifo-Dyas cracked open his eyes to look Doo over. He was already dressed and groomed for the day, in nice dark colors that suited him so well.

"Economy of energy," Sifo-Dyas said with faux sternness. "Easier just to take a few minutes here while you use the ‘fresher."

Doo leaned over to trail a finger down Sifo-Dyas's jaw, ending the movement with a light kiss. "You just wanted to tempt me into staying."

"Nonsense," Sifo-Dyas said with a small smile. "I just wanted to give you a pleasant memory to fortify you for the day."

Doo's smirk said that he didn't believe that lie for a single second, but he let it pass unquestioned. Instead, he straightened back up and checked his comm. Sifo-Dyas stayed on the bed and let himself settle into his skin a bit more. 

"It seems we've been invited to breakfast," Doo said as he looked through his messages.

"The younglings are up already?" Sifo-Dyas asked. He didn't know why he was surprised.

"They keep military time. I also suspect that they have trouble sleeping."

That would make sense. The _vod'e_ were long term combat veterans. Sifo-Dyas had gotten glimpses of the war that they'd come from, and that was enough to give him nightmares. They'd lived it. 

"I won't be waking Obi-Wan up early," Sifo-Dyas said easily. He did another quick mental check. Yup, the little demon was still dead to the world. "He won't wake for quite a while yet. Go on and head to breakfast. Give them our regards."

Doo nodded, accepting his task without qualm. "There are some basic foodstuffs in the kitchen, should you like to eat here."

Sifo-Dyas thought it over. That could work very well. Obi-Wan would wake up excited, ready to go meet his brothers again, but perhaps a slow start to the day might be better.

"We will eat here, then, and make ourselves available for visits later in the day. If the others have duties they need to attend to…"

"I will let them know that they should take care of them in the morning," Doo said. He put his comm into one of his pockets and attached his sabres to his belt. His gaze lingered on Sifo-Dyas.

"Kiss goodbye?" Sifo-Dyas asked, keeping his gaze hooded. He knew very well just how tempting an offer that was.

It was a little strange to feel so free to tease Doo like this. Their time together was usually so short, or at least it had been for the past handful of years. For a brief moment he wondered if this was what life was like for other people, every day. 

He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had arrived. Both he and Doo had a duty to the Force, something that went beyond the rules laid down by mere mortals. Neither of them would forsake their vocation just for a little more pleasure.

Doo put one knee on the bed and pulled Sifo-Dyas into a scorching kiss. One that had Sifo-Dyas leaning back on instinct in an attempt to lure Doo farther into bed. A light flush heated his cheeks and, Force, but the way that Doo was so nicely dressed while he hadn't put on a single stitch yet _was not helping_.

He curled his fingers into the folds of Doo's robes and luxuriated in the sensation of all that fine silk and linen. It would feel very nice up against his bare skin.

With great reluctance, Doo pulled away.

Sifo-Dyas licked his lips. Both to get one last taste of Doo's kiss and to see how Doo's eyes tracked the movement. 

"You are terrible," Doo said in that rough, low voice that Sifo-Dyas loved so much. 

Sifo-Dyas hummed in agreement. It was a little unfair of him. They both had things to do, and Doo couldn't really afford to look even a little debauched. Neither of them could, though Sifo-Dyas had more time than Doo to make himself presentable. 

"I'll make it up to you later," Sifo-Dyas promised. 

Doo's answering smile warmed him to his toes. In a great show of personal restraint, Doo left after that, leaving Sifo-Dyas to prepare himself for the day. 

After a quick stop in the 'fresher for his morning ablutions, Sifo-Dyas dressed and started gathering something for Obi-Wan to eat when he awoke. With several days in hyperspace alone with a five year old under his belt, he was reasonably aware of exactly what would be needed to get Obi-Wan taken care of. 

He spent the rest of his quiet time in meditation, knowing that once Obi-Wan woke up there would be no rest for him. 

Sure enough, by the time Obi-Wan was bouncing out of his room, the little one was already filled with plans for the day. 

"Master Sy! Master Sy! Can we go see my _vod'e_ now?" Obi-Wan asked. Several dozen times. 

"Yes," Sifo-Dyas responded each time. "Once you finish eating, and once they are done with their morning appointments."

There were several attempts by Obi-Wan to weasel his way out of those restrictions, including everything from rescheduling whatever it was the _vod'e_ were doing, outright ignoring whatever the _vod'e_ were doing, staging an accident to attract the _vod'e_ , and sneaking in to watch whatever it was the _vod'e_ were doing.

It was both cute and amusing. Sifo-Dyas was very glad that he'd had quite a lot of practice at patience. 

While they were eating, Obi-Wan asked again about the concepts of poison and the Dark Side. Sifo-Dyas had expected something like this. From what he could tell, there were a great many of Obi-Wan's visions that were shared memories with Ben. Based on the hints and bits of stories that Obi-Wan had let slip, Ben's life consisted of several decades of the worst missions that Sifo-Dyas had ever heard of. There was a lot that Obi-Wan didn't understand. _Couldn't_ understand, at his age. 

So Sifo-Dyas resolved to help him come to terms with the new information as best as he could, by being honest and clear. It meant he'd had a _lot_ of unfortunate conversations with the little one in the past several weeks. From the grim looks he’d shared with Crèche Master Tinna before they’d left for Mandalore, she was in the same boat. 

"Would you ‘nd Master Doo really poison me?" Obi-Wan asked while poking at some sweet bread.

"If you were to become a padawan with either of us as your master, we would train you on how to cleanse toxins from your body. That would include you eating very small amounts of poison," Sifo-Dyas explained. "It might be unpleasant, but we would do everything we could to keep you from true harm, and we wouldn't surprise you with it. You would know ahead of time."

Obi-Wan frowned as he chewed. "Poisons are in food sometimes, right?"

"Yes, they can be. It's one of the easiest ways to poison someone. You don't have to worry about that here, though. This place is safe." Force, but Sifo-Dyas hoped that it was. 

"So the people who make the food know all ‘bout poison?" Obi-Wan asked.

Sifo-Dyas got a sinking feeling that this conversation was leading somewhere.

"I don't know if the cooks here in particular are aware of such things, but many people who work in the kitchens of royalty are educated in such matters. They need to be, to protect the royal family. Strange as it seems, Ben and your _vod'e_ are princes, essentially."

Sifo-Dyas watched Obi-Wan consider this as he nibbled on his bread. Any moment now the other shoe would drop.

"What about the Dark Side Meat?" Obi-Wan asked.

Sifo-Dyas blinked. _The Dark Side Meat_.

"You mean the spiced food you tried last night?" Sifo-Dyas had to clarify.

Obi-Wan nodded. "It made my stomach hurt ‘nd it _burned_. You sure it wasn't poison?"

That was actually a fair bit of reasoning. Sifo-Dyas tilted his head as he mulled over how to answer that.

"It is true that a substance that makes you sick could be called ‘poison'," he admitted. "But there are different levels of how sick something can make you. And some people work hard to build up a specific immunity to certain types of toxins. Spices are like that, I suppose. Most people can cultivate a tolerance, and even enjoyment, of hot foods. They start out with very mild dishes and then over a great deal of time, try hotter and hotter foods. By doing that they are training their bodies to view the spices as non-toxic. Some people, including some Jedi Knights, do this with dangerous substances, taking small doses over a long period of time to gain immunity to the negative effects."

He probably wouldn't have tried explaining this to any other crècheling. But Obi-Wan was exceptional and he had all of those visions rattling around in his head. It would do no one any favors to attempt to shelter him.

Obi-Wan looked at him with wide-eyed amazement. "So the people who cook the food here are helpin' us by giving us little poisons all the time? That way we don't get sick later with worse poisons?"

"That's… not… quite…" Sifo-Dyas scrunched his nose and tried to figure out how to tell him, no, the staff here wasn't poisoning them, when in fact, he'd just established that spices could be considered poison, which meant that _yes_ , the kitchen staff was poisoning them.

"They... They are not attempting to hurt us," Sifo-Dyas said. "And they would never, ever make you eat something that you didn't want to, or that made you feel bad. If anyone ever _does_ try to do that, that means they do not have your best interests at heart and you should be cautious, and tell an adult you trust about it."

Obi-Wan nodded. "So you or Master Doo, or Ben or my _vod'e_?"

Privately, Sifo-Dyas expected that if Obi-Wan told his _vod'e_ that an adult was attempting to coerce him into eating something that made him sick, the _vod'e_ might solve that problem with their blasters and rid the galaxy of one more idiot in the process. He would be tempted to do the same, but he'd at least ask questions first. He couldn't be certain that the _vod'e_ would do the same.

Brief fantasies of the _vod'e_ torturing the poor kitchen staff for information dashed through his head.

Still. That would be better than someone with ill intent getting their hands on young Obi-Wan.

"Yes," he said finally. "Tell one of us. Preferably all of us, and we will fix things."

"Can we go talk to the people who make the food?" Obi-Wan asked.

At some point, Sifo-Dyas was going to get used to the way Obi-Wan twisted through a conversation, throwing out seemingly random ideas and oddball requests together. One day. Eventually.

For now, he pursed his lips together.

"Let me ask the _Mand'alor_ ," he said. "We are guests here, and it isn't polite to wander around where we haven't been expressly invited."

While Obi-Wan finished up his cut fruit, Sifo-Dyas sent a comm to Doo.

 _Are you still anywhere near the_ Mand'alor _? Obi-Wan wants to go see the kitchens, but I'd prefer to have permission before we go barging in._

By the time Obi-Wan was cleaned up and ready for the day, Doo had sent a return message.

 _The_ Mand'alor _has no objections. He thanks you for your courtesy and requests holos of whatever activities Obi-Wan drags you into._

 _My thanks_ , Sifo-Dyas sent back quickly.

"It looks like we are headed to the kitchens, Obi-Wan."

"Hooray!" Obi-Wan bounced all the way to the door.

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Yan's eyes burned a little from lack of sleep. He'd barely gotten a couple of hours in before his internal sense of time informed him that he needed to get up. Jedi had excellent stamina, as Yan and Sy had proven over and over again to each other last night, but there were limits. 

He was very tired, and more than a little sore.

He was also _fantastic_. 

It was a wonderful morning. Any morning where he woke up with Sy in his arms was a wonderful morning, and every single ache and weary muscle only brought him more satisfaction. 

He probably looked somewhat terrible. As terrible as he ever got outside of a warzone, anyways. Clean and well dressed, yes, of course, but also sporting dark circles under his eyes and a touch pale. He was ravenously hungry, too. 

Young Obi-Wan had gotten to sleep early. Yan and Sy had made the most of their extended free time. 

By the time he'd made it to Ben's suite for breakfast, he'd managed to compose himself. Perhaps he should have just spent his two hours of rest in meditation.

No. No, it was worth it to sleep next to Sy. 

It did mean that he'd had to make good use of a lifetime of self control in order to properly don the guise of Jedi serenity. Perhaps there was still a hint of good natured humor about him today. Nothing to be done about it.

His mind kept slipping back to the image of Sy meditating on his bed. Lithe, peaceful, _beautiful_. Sy was as graceful as a dancer, with charm and wit to match Yan's own grim humor. Tonight they would have time to truly talk and catch up on all the little details of life that passed them by when they were away from each other. 

Probably. 

There might be talking for at least part of the night, anyways.

When Jango answered the door, he looked around Yan with mild surprise followed by disappointment.

"Come on," he said, waving Yan in. "Explain to everyone all at once why you're alone."

Breakfast had already begun. The rest of the younglings and the _Mand'alor_ were seated, each eating heartily of the food in front of them. There were three empty places at the table, not counting Jango's chair. Yan took the one next to Jaster. 

"Is everything alright?" Cody asked immediately, eyeing the empty spots at the table as if Sy and Obi-Wan would magically appear to fill them.

"Perfectly fine," Yan said with a pleased smile. 

It wasn't a large smile, but it was more than he usually offered. Surely it wasn't _that_ unusual. No so much that it would earn him the looks he was getting from the rest of the _vod'e_.

He raised a quelling eyebrow at them and tightened his mental shielding a little more. He and Sy had been intimate with each other for many years now, and often at the Temple under the disapproving gaze of Master Yoda. They'd both learned how to be discreet. 

The _vod'e_ didn't seem inclined to adjust their expressions, but they didn't outright question his, either, so he counted it a win.

"Obi-Wan is still sleeping," Yan explained. "And likely will stay asleep for a couple more hours yet. Master Sifo-Dyas is staying in the suite with him. He requested that I send you his apologies and suggested that if you all have any duties or errands that needed tending to today, that it may be wise for you to complete them this morning. Master Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan will be ready for company at lunch time, after which you all can choose to spend the rest of the day together, if you wish."

That settled everyone a fair bit. They all got back to the business of eating and even relaxed enough to mutter good naturedly amongst themselves. Yan didn't pay it much mind. He was more than occupied eating as well. 

The muttering continued. Yan decided to forgo caff or tea, and drank juice first. The extra sugar would help.

"Everything go alright last night?" Waxer asked. There was something in his voice that Yan couldn't quite pinpoint. He was fishing.

Yan raised an eyebrow at him.

"With Obi-Wan, you mean?" he countered, choosing the most obvious interpretation of the question. It likely wasn't what Waxer was asking about, but if that was so and he still wanted to know, then he would have to be more specific and thus let Yan in on his game.

Waxer and Boil exchanged one of their unreadable looks.

Yan took pity on him. He was in too good a mood to let the poor warrior twist on the hook for too long. 

"Obi-Wan settled in well and quickly," Yan said. "The day's events were very exciting for him, and by the time Master Sifo-Dyas got him into bed he was half asleep before his head hit the pillow. I think he had a very good day."

That answer was obviously exactly what the _vod'e_ expected and also completely unsatisfying to them. 

Ahh. Yes. Yan knew this game. He'd played it with his own master often enough. 

Master Yoda did not care for attachment. Not at all. He also had a fairly strict interpretation of what qualified as attachment. Compassion and joy and friendship were encouraged, but anything that might even _hint_ at distracting a knight from their commitment to the Force was viewed with suspicion. 

So when Yan and Sy had remained fast friends even after they'd both been chosen as padawans, Master Yoda had watched with an air of detached caution. That had turned into mild disapproval as Sy's master, Lene Kostana, had continued to include Yan on many of their adventures and training sessions. Master Yoda had allowed it because his duties as Grandmaster of the Order were many, and having an additional master there to help Yan with some of the basic lessons was useful to him. But he hadn't always approved of how well Yan and Sy got along.

He'd approved even less when Sy had supported Yan when he'd wanted to reach out to his sister on Serenno. 

Between the unhappy gaze of Master Yoda and the reproving gossip that spread like the plague through the Temple, Yan and Sy were well accustomed to people poking at their private affairs. 

In this particular instance, Yan found it more hilarious than annoying. Granted, it was _possible_ that the _vod'e_ or the _Mand'alor_ might spread rumors back to the Jedi Temple and thus cause Master Sifo-Dyas and himself a fair bit of trouble. It was exceedingly unlikely, though. 

Which meant that all this fishing for information was exactly what it appeared to be; bored military personnel who spent their free time speculating on the sex lives of basically everyone around them. 

Yan had long ago stopped caring about what other people thought of him. The fact that it was these strange old-souled children that were attempting to worm information out of him just added to the absurdity of the situation. 

"Are you feeling alright, Master Dooku?" Helix asked. "You look a little tired."

Having the medic ask about a potential health issue. An excellent tactic. 

"I am, a bit. Master Sifo-Dyas and I stayed up to drink some tea and catch up with each other," he said with a polite nod. 

Jaster and Jango watched the conversation like they were at a sporting event. Yan found that particularly funny as well.

Ben made a humming sound and finished his bite. "Obi-Wan did say that you liked to talk before bed."

 _Well played, General_.

That was very sneaky way to point out that such conversations were the whole reason that Obi-Wan gave for them sharing a suite, while at the same time insinuating that since they already talked so frequently, perhaps it was a bit unrealistic that they would still stay up until the wee hours of the night to chat. 

Yan didn't bother to deny it. Denials only cemented guilt. 

Instead, he said, "Indeed. Master Sifo-Dyas and I share a love of tea. He was very pleased to see the collection I gathered at the market the other day."

All of these statements were true. Sy and Yan did love tea. Sy was pleased to see that there was an abundance of it in the suite. Neither of those facts had anything to do with what they did last night.

The misdirection also had the added benefit of completely boring most of the _vod'e_. At the mere mention of tea, most of them dropped their interest in the conversation so quickly that they might as well have turned it off with a switch. 

Only Cody kept watching him, his expression mostly neutral but bordering on vaguely puzzled. 

Ben, however, was immediately sidetracked by the chance to talk about tea. From the knowing glint in his eyes, he'd seen Yan's misdirection for what it was but was willing to go with it.

The two of them chatted merrily about brews and flavors for quite a while, until even Jaster got bored with trying to figure out what had happened with the conversation and shifted the discussion to other things. 

Politics, mostly. Yan, Ben, and Cody all were to be at the Council meeting this morning. Apparently, the rest of the _vod'e_ already had other activities in mind for their free time. They quietly discussed training drills and a visit to Ardanna while Ben and Cody made suggestions to Jaster about future plans for Concordia. 

Near the tail end of breakfast, Yan remembered something else that needed to be addressed.

" _Mand'alor_ ," Yan said just after he finished his second plate of souffle. "While Master Sifo-Dyas is here, he will likely want to look over potential sites for the AgriCorps delegation."

Jaster blinked at him a moment, and then nodded. "Ah, yes. The planet healers. Do you know what will be needed?"

Ben's attention focused back on their conversation and the _vod'e_ quieted down to listen in as well.

Yan waved a hand. "Only in general terms. They will likely send a small team at first, to assess the situation, and then more to establish operations once they come up with a plan of attack. Master Sifo-Dyas will have the most accurate information, so I will allow him to inform you of the details. By the end of his trip here, he will likely formally request living and working space for the Corps members from the Mandalorian Council, as well as elaborate on what you all can expect from them."

Jaster leaned back in his chair and gave Yan a speculative look. "I see. And you're telling me this now, why?"

"Because I thought it prudent to make you aware of Master Sifo-Dyas' plans on the matter, before he brought the request to your council. I think it would also behoove everyone if he were to get local advice on potential locations to choose from."

"Generous of you to assume that we'd give them a choice," Jaster said wryly. He didn't sound offended or displeased, though. 

"Since their goal here is to make your planet's surface habitable again, it is in your best interest to work with the Order to facilitate the AgriCorps efforts as much as possible," Yan shot back, with his own version of a wry smile. 

Ben nodded along. "He has a good point."

"We could make a tour of it," Cody suggested. "Get some basic parameters from Master Sifo-Dyas and then go out as a group to see them. Pack in some sight seeing as well for the Cadet."

Ben beamed at him. "Excellent idea, Cody."

Cody didn't _quite_ preen. There was a hint of it in the set of his shoulders, though.

Yan happened to glance over at Jaster just in time to share a slightly exasperated look. 

They both went back to finishing off their drinks rather quickly. No sense in embarrassing the younglings, after all. 

The meal had definitely helped. Yan felt much better. _Even_ better, since he was already feeling very pleased in general. Even the slight ache of his muscles when he stood up didn't bother him. It was nothing serious, just the soreness that came after a good long workout. 

A very enjoyable workout, at that.

They all split up after the meal, with Yan, Jaster, Ben, and Cody headed towards the Council room together.

Right before they were about to enter, Yan's comm pinged with a message from Sy.

 _Are you still anywhere near the_ Mand'alor _? Obi-Wan wants to go see the kitchens, but I'd prefer to have permission before we go barging in._

"Everything ok?" Jaster asked.

"Perfectly fine," Yan said with a dismissive shake of his head. "Obi-Wan and Master Sifo-Dyas are awake and contemplating what to do for the day. Apparently, Obi-Wan wishes to go visit the kitchens, and Master Sifo-Dyas requested that I ask you for permission for them to go."

Jaster blinked at him, looking utterly baffled. 

"The kitchens?"

Yan shrugged. 

Jaster looked at Ben, who also shrugged and shook his head.

"Sure," Jaster finally said. "I don't see why the tiny _jet'ika_ would want to go there, but why not? Tell Master Sifo-Dyas that I appreciate the heads up." He paused a moment. "And I want holos."

Ben's cheeks turned bright red and he pressed his lips together. Cody rather suspiciously cleared his throat. 

Yan smiled at Jaster and gave him a light bow. "I will let him know. Thank you, _Mand'alor_."

Ben and Cody exchanged a knowing look, but before Yan could prod them for information about it, the Council room doors were opening and it was time to do work.

\--

\--- POV: Wooley Mereel ---

When he'd heard that the Cadet had been harassing the kitchen staff all morning, he'd gotten curious.

When he'd made his way there after his morning lesson with Ardanna -- how to safely light the forge and handle the hot metal -- what he'd found had made him hide a smile.

As he'd approached, he'd been able to _feel_ the Cadet, to sense him from across the palace. It was a confusing sensation that reminded him of the sight of a beacon in the night but nonetheless registered as a kind of warmth on his skin, like standing near a forgefire or in bright starlight.

The Cadet _glowed_ in the Force, with a bright joyous light that could have been blinding, had it been physical. As it was, it made Wooley wonder if maybe the General didn't have a point about shielding themselves and their Force bonds. He didn't _think_ his Force senses would get tired, looking at the Cadet, like his physical eyes would have if he'd tried to stare at a star, but, then again, he hadn't gathered enough experience with them to know the answer to that question one way or the other. 

It took him far longer to sense Master Sifo-Dyas, who -- though Wooley could tell the master was quite powerful himself -- felt like a mere flicker next to the youngling's sheer presence.

He wondered what he felt like to them.

Obi-Wan looked up at him, grinning and elbow-deep in a large bowl of bread-dough, the moment he entered the space. "Wooley!" He greeted, enthusiastically, "The cooks are showing me how to bake, _vod_!"

Wooley grinned back, feeling that happy expression and the associated brightness shining in their network lift his own spirits effortlessly. "So what are you making, then, Cadet?"

The question got him a focused look of concentration. "The cooks said it was called... Hash-un? I think?"

"It's pronounced _haashun_ ," Wooley reminded him gently.

"Right! That!" The Cadet agreed easily. "Moratyn gave me a piece of the batch they baked this morning, an' it was _really_ good. So much better than those ration bars the _Vod'e_ eat..." He paused and thought about something, his expression focused and serious, then he declared, "It's not as good as the pudding, but it doesn' have any of the Dark Side in it, an' that's important."

Wondering how in the name of every Sith-burned hell the Cadet knew what GAR ration bars tasted like, Wooley laughed. "True. It's definitely important to stay away from the Dark Side. But Obi-Wan, spices aren't Dark. I promise. If they were, the General would've Fallen long ago. He eats plenty of spices, but he's still very Light."

Master Sifo-Dyas nodded. "It's also possible to balance the Light and the Dark within oneself, Wooley," he offered. "It is extremely difficult, and not many Masters even attempt it, but it can be done."

The Cadet's eyes went round, and he looked a bit awed, the feeling creeping through the network like a strangler vine seeking a stable surface to climb. "Is that what Master Windu does?"

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled, looking like a teacher with a star pupil. "Well guessed, Obi-Wan. It is indeed. That is what makes him so good at Vaapad."

One of the cooks -- presumably Moratyn -- leaned in to look over the Cadet's shoulder at the bread dough. Wooley could tell by her amused expression that the Cadet had pretty much mangled the job, but he knew the little one had been given the job as a distraction, so it was fine. "Are you finished kneading, Obi-Wan?" She asked. "You've been quite busy chattering."

"Ummm. I'm not sure," the Cadet admitted. "How do you tell if you're done?"

"The dough should bounce back a little when you push on it," she said, and poked at the very sticky-looking mass. "Yours needs a bit more flour added to it. Would you like me to help you with it?"

"Yes, please," Obi-Wan said, and got a bright smile from her, that he happily returned. "I never knew bread could be this _sticky_."

She chuckled at him, and nodded, reaching for the flour bin set off to one side of where the Cadet was 'helping' them bake bread. "That's one of the signs," she told him as she added a handful of the white powder to the bowl and helped Obi-Wan free his hands of the sticky dough so he could keep working. "When your dough stops being so sticky, it's done. You have to be very careful to add the flour slowly until you get it just right." The cook picked up a second bowl of dough that she'd clearly been working on earlier and offered it to the Cadet. "See this one? Here, press on it gently. Feel how smooth it is? See how it rebounds?"

"I think so," Obi-Wan said, then nodded seriously and turned back to his own bowl.

Wooley saw Master Sifo-Dyas silently take a holo while the youngling was distracted, looking down at the dough he was working with an expression of extreme concentration on his face.

 _Force_ but that was cute. He'd have to remember to ask for a copy of that holo.

He had nothing better to do at the moment, so he sent Helix a quick written comm telling the _vod_ where he was and what he was doing, then settled in to spectate. He had a feeling this would be entertaining.

 _He's what?_ Helix replied.

 _Attempting to help the cooks make_ haashun. _I'll share later._ Wooley sent back with a grin. _Keyword: attempting. It's kind of adorable._

 _Kark. Please tell me there's holo-evidence,_ came the immediate response.

 _Master Sifo-Dyas has some,_ he informed their Medic. _I'll get some too if I can get away with it without him asking about the holos. Don't want him to spill that bit of gossip to the General. Obi's got no filter and Kenobi would get embarrassed._

"Who're you comming?" The Cadet asked him, curiously.

"Helix had a question for me," Wooley answered, and got a sage nod out of the little one.

"Helix always has lots of questions," the Cadet told him gravely.

"He's got to look out for all of us." Wooley pointed out. "If he didn't ask us lots of questions, he might miss something important."

Such as holos of their Cadet baking.

Master Sifo-Dyas gave him a knowing look but didn't call him on his evasion. Instead, he offered the Cadet, "If you would like it, Obi-Wan, we can talk to the cooking staff and Master Tinna about you continuing cooking lessons once we're home on Coruscant."

The youngling thought that over. "I dunno, Master Sy," he said dubiously. "I'm not sure I'm any good at it."

Moratyn chuckled at him, and gave him a quick squeeze of a hug. "Baking takes practice, little one. Just like any other skill. You're doing fine."

Obi-Wan brightened. "Really?"

"It's no different from practicing your meditations, _jet'ika_ ," she told him. "You explained that to me, earlier. You have to keep doing something to get good at it."

Wooley decided to chime in. "It's true. I spent years practicing to get good with my blaster," he said, getting Obi-Wan's full attention briefly.

The Cadet nodded thoughtfully, then turned back to Moratyn. "Okay. My _vod'e_ are really smart. If they agree with you, I guess it has to be true."

The cook grinned. "Your _vod'e_ are all wonderfully skilled warriors," she agreed, "and wise, too. Now, come. Finish making that dough, and then I'll give you some of the karjafruit we prepared earlier."

"Okay!" The Cadet agreed, enthusiastically. "Those are _real_ tasty."

Apparently, his General had always been fond of the brightly colored fruit. Wooley could imagine why. He'd only ever gotten to taste one, once before, but it was an experience he was pretty sure he'd always carry with him. The fruit had been sweet, tart, and juicy, the flavour bursting like a sunrise over his tongue.

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled. "Those are a worthy reward for a job well done."

Through the network, the Cadet felt like a mix of raw determination and calculation. Probably trying to figure out how much of the tasty snack he could wheedle out of the cook.

"They sure are," Wooley agreed, watching the Cadet set back to kneading his dough with a will, getting flour absolutely everywhere in the process.

Carefully, unobtrusively, he brought his arm back up and fiddled with his comm for a moment. Despite his care, the Cadet looked up at him and gave him a curious look. When Wooley simply kept pushing buttons, pretending to respond to another comm from Helix, he eventually went back to working on his dough. Wooley took the opportunity. He turned the holocam features on and hit record, careful not to draw any further attention to himself. He only got a clip about fifteen seconds long, but he knew it would be enough. Once he had that safely encrypted and saved in four places, he took a still shot, too, and forwarded it to Waxer.

And now, he thought, lowering his arm again, all he had to do was wait for the inevitable cooing to start up.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: the _Vod'e_ are going to gossip about sex -- a lot and in detail -- like the mini military men that they are. This is your fair warning, if that's going to squick you. Most of that is in the first pov, with a little in the second, as well.

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

They hadn't had a good gossip session in _weeks_ , and Waxer found himself looking forward to the one that was about to start.

It would've been even better with some caf to drink, but Helix had put his foot down about that, so instead they'd broken out the new deck of sabacc cards they'd picked up at the market with Jango.

Seated around their long table, setting out what they'd need for their wagers and scorekeeping, he and his _vod'e_ settled in, and then suddenly everyone was staring down Wooley.

"Well?" Crys demanded, his impatience ringing out clearly in the network and getting a brief curious touch from the General in response. Crys replied with their usual 'all clear' ping, and then added. "Play us that clip you said you got. And give it to me so I can archive it properly."

Wooley grinned broadly, ever so pleased with himself, and offered their _vod_ a data chip. "Here, Crys. I'll play it for the rest of you on my comm. Force, it was karking adorable to watch."

"If it was anything like that holo you sent me," Waxer put in as Wooley cued up the clip, "it'll just about make us melt."

That got him a laugh. "It might be better," Wooley informed him solemnly, and started the playback.

The static image that came up and hung in the air for a moment while the clip loaded was already fantastic. Waxer couldn't help the small squeak he made when he got his second look at the Cadet's attempts to bake. The Commander poked at him over the network that time, distracting him at what might very well be a karking vital moment. He absently sent back his own 'all clear' and added a second brief touch that said 'ask later'.

Obi-Wan stood, presumably on a crate or something, so that he could reach, with his arms disappearing into a large bowl. He was absolutely covered in flour, and sticking out his tongue a tiny bit in furious concentration.

Boil groaned, sounding like he'd been sucker punched. " _Force_ , I think the cute might just _kill me_."

Helix nodded, looking a little dazed, himself.

And then the short clip started playing. The Cadet's expression was _priceless_ as he fought to knead the mass of dough in his bowl, an intense scowl that was eerily similar to their General's own. Well, the one he remembered from their adult General, anyway. Waxer hadn't yet seen him make that face as a twelve-year-old.

They watched him struggle to work the dough for those fifteen seconds or so that the clip lasted in rapt silence.

" _Kriff me_ ," Longshot muttered when it was over, then shuffled and dealt the cards. "You might be right, Boil. We really might _not_ survive this."

Laughing at them, Wooley nodded. "It'll be totally worth every minute, though."

All of them nodded back, fully in agreement.

The Commander poked at him a bit harder that time, more insistently demanding to know what was going on, and Waxer wanted to groan. He'd have thought that dealing with the council would have been enough to keep the Commander busy. He replied with an image of the six of them, sitting around the table and playing sabacc.

The Commander sent back a strong burst of skepticism that said, _Yeah. Right. I don't believe you_ , louder than words. The General, apparently eavesdropping on them, had a resigned air to him.

Kenobi was well familiar with their tendency to sit around and gossip, when they had a chance. Not one of them was at all ashamed to admit it, either. The Commander generally viewed the habit as something harmless that kept them entertained. 

There was a brief silence as they each looked at the cards in their hands, and then Crys spoke up. "You know, we really should address the bantha in the room."

Waxer dismissed the Commander's unnecessary concern in the face of a more important topic of discussion. Cody seemed to sigh, exasperated, making the General laugh. Waxer paid them no more heed. There was gossip to be had.

"Oh?" Longshot responded, always willing to play straight man for his friend. "What's that?"

"Master Dooku," Crys said, looking down at his cards, seemingly focused on the game. All of them knew better.

"He _did_ look rather tired this morning," Waxer agreed as the first hand proceeded. "And he claimed it wasn't because the Cadet kept him and his friend awake."

"And did you see the way he couldn't stop smiling?" Longshot put in. "It was almost creepy."

Helix nodded, "He was moving like he was sore, too. Moreso than he did after the end of the campaign against the Death Watch."

Boil snorted. "Right, that was also weird. I don't think we've ever seen him in that kind of state before."

"He hid it well," Longshot agreed, "but not _quite_ well enough."

"What I want to know," Waxer said, idly flicking at the corners of his cards, "is how the kriff he got that sore and tired _talking about tea_ with Master Sifo-Dyas."

"Must've been an athletic, heated 'discussion'," Crys said, deadpan.

All of them snickered.

"What?" Crys added, smirking at them, pleased by their reaction to the comment, "you were all thinking it."

They'd acknowledged that Helix had won the first hand, handed over Helix's 'winnings', collected the cards, shuffled, and redealt them before the conversation picked up again.

"I thought _jetiise_ weren't supposed to get attached. The General's been saying that since the moment we met him," Wooley said, sounding a little dubious.

"Haven't you ever heard of the term 'aromantic', _Vod_?" Helix asked him a bit scathingly. "Sex doesn't have to mean attachment."

"Huh? Sure, I've heard of that," Wooley answered, giving Helix a mild glare. "You drilled that concept into our heads before we even left Kamino. But think back to Dooku's expression when we asked him how he slept, and he smiled like that. That wasn't the kind of face an aromantic would make thinking about his partner."

Crys nodded. "I'm with Wooley on this one. I didn't get the impression that they were aromantic, either, but we'd need more intel to pin that down."

"Not that we could get it, anyway, so that's a moot point," Waxer said with a shrug, evaluating his new hand of cards. It wasn't great.

"Nah, _Vod_ ," Longshot disagreed with a broad grin. "We definitely could."

"Oh yeah?" Waxer shot back, not sure whether to be more amused, intrigued, or exasperated with his _Vod_ , "How do you propose we do that?"

As the highest ranked _Vod_ in the room, he was nominally in charge unless Helix chose to intervene, so it would likely be on him to answer for any fallout Longshot's plan caused. 

He and the other _Vod'e_ present all turned to stare at Longshot, who smirked at them. "That's easy," he said. "We ask the Cadet. Remember how he was talking about those two 'headbutting' during our group holocall last week?"

Crys started outright cackling. "Oh _Force, Vod_ , that's a karking brilliant idea."

"Also still the best description of a Keldabe kiss I've ever heard," Longshot added.

"Hmmm," Helix hummed thoughtfully. "That's a good point. Most aromantics wouldn't be interested in making that sort of sappy gesture."

"Exactly," Wooley replied, vindication in his voice. "So if they're not aromantic, and they pretty obviously kriffed each other silly last rotation..."

"... then they're probably _involved_. Long-term," Boil finished. "You don't strike up that kind of relationship literally overnight."

They all fell silent for a few long seconds.

"Sith-hells, it's so _weird_ , thinking about Dooku and sex," Crys complained.

"Well, yeah, _Vod_ ," Longshot agreed, reaching over to pat Crys' shoulder mock-comfortingly. "But we knew it would be weird, going into this discussion, and it's been all kinds of entertaining so far. Besides. There's something else we haven't hashed out."

"Yeah?" Boil gave him a curious look. "What would that be, _Vod_?"

Longshot's expression went almost dreamy. "Just imagine all the crazy moves a _jetii_ master could pull off in bed, if he wanted to."

Wooley choked on air, and his expression went a bit distant. "Wow. That... that's a hell of a thought."

Waxer turned to look at his _riduur_ , caught Boil doing exactly the same at the same time, and their eyes locked.

" _Kark_ ," Boil whispered, sounding a bit awed, "do you think they --"

"-- use the Force in bed?" Waxer finished when Boil trailed off, apparently at a loss for words.

Longshot shrugged. "It really wouldn't surprise me," he said, " _jetiise_ seem to use the Force for every little thing they need to do, from avoiding sleeping to containing explosions to interrogations."

Boil's awed face went a little slack as he considered the implications of that. "The _positions_ they could pull off. _Force._ I'm almost a little jealous of the Commander."

Another short silence reigned while they all tried to come to terms with _that_ mental image.

Crys nodded. "So do you think they went for one long kriff or a series of shorter ones?"

Wooley gave Crys a disbelieving look. "Do you really think they could get it up enough times for a series of shorter rounds, _Vod_? They're ancient."

Helix rolled his eyes at them so hard Waxer almost thought they would roll right out of his head. "They're fifty years old, at most, _Vod_ , that's not _ancient_. Not for a nat born."

Crys rolled his eyes right back. "That's your opinion, _Vod_. But you know -- probably better than I do -- that getting hard gets harder, the older you get."

The flat statement got Longshot to sputter and laugh. "He's got a point, Helix."

"So your credits are on one long kriff," Waxer deduced, getting a nod out of Crys. He considered that. "It would explain why he ate like he'd run a marathon. The soreness would be a thing either way."

"Judging by how worn out he looked," Helix said, looking like he wasn't sure it would be a good idea to voice this particular thought, "it would've had to be two long kriffs. I doubt even a man as fit as he is could go for more than a couple of hours at a time. Staying hard for several hours at a time is not only exhausting, but at a certain point it crosses a line and becomes a condition that requires treatment. And using toys to stay hard that long... well, from a medical standpoint, it's just as unhealthy to do that."

Wooley nodded, looking thoughtful. "So several rounds is more likely, in your professional opinion, _Vod_?"

Helix shrugged, and looked down at his hand of cards. "Maybe. Don't discount their absolutely banthashit ability to use the Force to heal themselves."

Waxer stared at their medic. " _Kriff._ If Dooku was _that sore_ despite _Force healing himself_..."

Helix nodded. "They're either doing something wrong, or very kriffing right."

Their current hand ended, won by Wooley, but no one was even paying the slightest attention to the cards anymore, just playing so that they'd have an excuse to all be sitting around their table. The real attraction was the ongoing discussion.

"I wonder who tops," Boil said after a few seconds.

It was Helix's turn to shuffle the deck and deal. As the cards riffled through his hands, he gave Boil a sardonic look. "What does it matter?"

Waxer snorted. "It doesn't, but that's what we're here to do. Discuss the things that don't matter, and are entertaining."

Wooley saluted him with his hand of cards. "Well said, _Vod_. I think Dooku tops."

Crys and Longshot nodded.

Helix looked a bit dubious. "You sure about that, _Vod_? I've heard usually the really stern and controlled people tend to be the ones who like to let go and have someone they trust make the decisions for a while."

"You can't go making generalisations like that," Waxer put in shaking his head. "Sure, that's true for some people, but that kind of give and take is a very personal thing. I'm pretty sure they trade off. If I had to guess, Dooku seems like he might be into discipline."

"Or maybe there are no set roles at all," Boil suggested. "That's a thing that works for some people."

"How would that even work?" Wooley asked, sounding puzzled.

"You discuss who wants to and gets to do what and how before each encounter," Boil explained. "In some relationships, what happens is very rigidly defined and consistent, based on hard and soft limits and who likes what, but sometimes it isn't. And then you have to talk things out."

"We're getting a bit far afield," Longshot yanked them back on topic. "I'm going to go out on a limb and agree with Boil. It's hard to say who'd top, between the two of them. And, for that matter, based on their ranks in the Order, their whole relationship might well be a way to cater to a kink. If you look at the chain of command, Master Sifo-Dyas should be in charge. He's a High Councilor. Dooku isn't. But on the other hand, their personalities argue that it's probably Dooku in charge."

"Oh, good point!" Crys considered that for a moment. "You know, we forgot to get Master Dooku a welcome gift, when he became liaison. Maybe we should do that now, and just expand it to include Master Sifo-Dyas?"

Waxer blinked. "Oh, kark, you're right. We really should fix that."

"We should send them a gift basket," Wooley suggested, sounding sure of himself. "They'd like that."

"It's a good thing the Commander isn't here," Waxer muttered. "He'd shut _that_ idea down pretty quick."

"What?" Wooley gave him a baffled look. "Why?"

"We can't send _Master Dooku_ a gift basket full of _lube and sex toys_ ," Waxer reminded him of the obvious.

That got the whole table laughing. Waxer huffed at them. "Well, we _can't_."

Boil, cackling hard enough to be leaning his entire weight against him, needed a few seconds to pull it off, but he managed to calm himself down enough to take a shuddering breath. " _Riduur_ , I don't think that's what he had in mind."

"Where would we get them, anyway?" Helix asked. "Did you two _di'kut'e_ somehow manage to find a sex toy shop?"

Waxer grumbled a few swears under his breath before he answered. "Boil and I spotted one when we went to the market with _ori'vod_ , but we didn't go in, so we don't know how good the quality of the merchandise is. Besides, we look like ten year olds."

“ _Riduur_ , we _are_ ten year olds.” Boil smirked at him and laid down a card.

“We weren't ten year olds a few weeks ago,” Waxer said, rolling his eyes. “What were we gonna do? Stroll up into that sex store and ask for a catalog? Even if they did let us in to buy something, what would we _do_ with it?”

As much as Waxer loved his _riduur_ and as much as he _remembered_ enjoying sex, at the moment it didn’t hold much appeal for him. He’d rather settle in with Boil for a good cuddle and maybe a chaste kiss here and there. 

“You could stockpile until you're old enough to care about the stuff,” Helix answered dryly.

Waxer blinked at him. “... Kark, that’s a good idea.”

“Toys and books, at least," Helix added, giving him a long level look. "You all know better than to use expired lube.”

The rest of them snickered.

"I _meant_ that we should send them some good muscle relaxants and painkillers, along with I don't know, a nice plant, or something," Wooley said, his tone pointed. "That'd be harmless enough and still send a message."

Longshot snickered. "That's not a bad idea. We could put a data chip at the bottom, for them to find later. A good BDSM manual or something."

Helix snorted. "We can dig one of those up, no problem, but I'm sure they have to have enough experience to know what's what, by now."

"Right," Crys agreed, with a smirk. "They're ancient."

"Compared to you, they definitely are," Wooley quipped. "There's another side to all this that you're forgetting, _Vod'e_."

"There is?" Helix questioned him. "What?"

"Did you already forget about all the karking rumours that flew around the palace after _buir_ got drunk with Master Dooku?" Wooley parried. "A good half of the _verd'e_ were convinced _buir_ and Master Dooku were kriffing, and we all know how accurate that was. How sure are we that Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas are actually together?"

Waxer couldn't hold back his derisive scoff. " _Vod_ , Dooku called Master Sifo-Dyas 'his dear friend'. How many other _jetiise_ have you ever heard use that phrase? That's right. None. That's too close to admitting they're involved."

Boil frowned. "The Order doesn't forbid friendships or sex, _riduur_. Just 'attachment'. Whatever they think that is. General Kenobi is kind of terrified of getting attached, but I'm pretty convinced he and Duchess Satine were _involved_ before we landed in this part of the timeline."

Longshot thought that over. "Rumours are rumours. We can't rely on their accuracy. Our own observations, though, those we know are solid intel."

Wooley shrugged. "You have a point, _Vod_ , but we do have to remember that we might be entirely off base with our guesses."

"We still have most of a month to figure them out," Helix said. "Let's not make any firm assumptions just yet."

"Does that mean we shouldn't send the gift basket?" Crys wanted to know. "I was really looking forward to the looks on their faces."

"Oh no, we're sending the gift basket," Longshot told him firmly.

\--- POV: Jango Fett ---

Jango loved his _buir_. Times like today reminded him of just how much he admired his _buir_ , too.

All morning Jango had been serving as Jaster's aid in the Council room as they discussed what to do with Concordia. 

With the bulk of the Vizsla Clan dead, arrested, or fled, control of the forested moon was now up for grabs. Several of the chieftains wanted a clan head from somewhere else to take over. It was transparently obvious that they wanted to either increase their power base, expand their own operations, or punish the current inhabitants of Concordia by putting an outsider in charge. 

No one knew how many silent supporters of the Death Watch were left, and no one wanted to take any chances that there might be a second wave of attacks. 

The future of the moon was also up for debate. 

In centuries past, Concordia had been nearly made barren by the heavy mining operations. After the Mandalorian-Jedi War, most of the mines had been closed and the moon slowly converted into a purely agricultural center. Death Watch had reopened some of those mines. Now the Councilors and chieftains were arguing over what should be done about it.

Unsurprisingly, the New Mandalorians wanted the mines closed. They argued that producing _beskar_ in mass quantities would only encourage the creation of armors and weapons, something that the True Mandalorians were very in favor of. They were also incredibly concerned that increased mining activity would lay waste to the moon's surface, as it had in the past. 

They'd been arguing about what to do for days. 

All the while, Jaster watched and listened. Jango knew that he'd been talking to Master Dooku and Ben in private about the problem. 

Jaster wasn't a politician. He'd said so often enough. But he was a good leader. He listened to those who knew what they were talking about and then made his decisions.

Today he'd suggested making Concordia an official province. That would give the locals more of a voice in the decisions made about their home, and remind them that it was only Death Watch that had been cast out and declared _dar'manda_. When grumblings about that cropped up among the True Mandalorians -- _Mando'ad'e_ did not forgive easily, if ever -- Jaster just reminded them that Concordia held a number of the old warrior tribes, exiled there after the Great War. They were _aliit_ and didn't deserve to suffer hardship because of some faithless _hut'uun'e_ who'd tried to drag them all down.

To that end, he'd suggested that the governor should be someone with close affiliations to the head clans on Mandalore, but who was a native to Concordia. That offer had been intriguing enough that Jango could already see the Council reevaluating their positions and considering new candidates. No one could argue with the fact that a local governor would inspire less unrest, and all of them wanted someone they could trust in charge. A member of someone's extended clan would be a good compromise.

Jaster also suggested that a percentage of the mines could stay open under the stipulation that they only engaged in practices that were not detrimental to the surrounding land. _Beskar_ was valuable and useful for more than just tools of war and increasing their production of it would bring more wealth and influence to the sector. But it was foolish to pursue that wealth at a greater cost to themselves. Their natural resources should be protected, not exploited.

It was a compromise. There was grumbling on all sides but no outright objections were made. 

Jango knew that the council would argue about the nuances of the situation for a while longer. Jaster knew it too. That was why he'd asked Ben and Master Dooku to today's meeting. Those two _jetiise_ had given him a lot of the ideas on how to proceed and Jaster knew that they'd do a far better job than he could, arguing in favor of them. 

_Half of being in charge is knowing when to let someone else fight_ , he'd told Jango once. It seemed that held true for politics as well as battle.

Master Dooku had joined in with the arguments with relish, exhibiting more good humor than he usually did. Kark, but he was in a good mood.

It had to be because Master Sifo-Dyas was visiting. Jango was one hundred percent sure that was who the newly purchased Mandalorian spices were going to. _Jetiise_ were damned hard to read, though, so he didn't really have a good idea of what was going on there. 

Not that it mattered much. As far as Jango was concerned, if there was some kind of additional relationship going on there, it was only to his _aliit_ 's benefit, as they'd have an easier time getting Obi-Wan to come visit. 

Ben, in contrast, was distracted. Not enough that Jango thought anyone other than Jaster, Dooku, and Cody noticed. The council seemed oblivious; they were too intent on their own bickering and Ben was a master at covering up what he was thinking. 

It had to be because of Obi-Wan. The whole situation was a little karked. The _vod'e_ were utterly enchanted by the itty bitty General; Ben was more than a little chagrined.

Jango almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

The council meeting wrapped up in time for lunch, which was a nice change from the all day affairs that had been happening during the Death Watch campaign.

Dooku bowed and took his leave, explaining that he would go find Master Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan and join them in a bit.

The moment that it was just Jaster, Jango, Ben, and Cody left, Jaster nudged Ben's shoulder.

"What's wrong, _ad_?"

Ben shook his head and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Nothing important. My _vod'e_ are gossiping. It's surprisingly distracting."

Cody snorted. "Nothing for a _vod_ to pass the time with but cards and chatter." His voice held equal parts amusement and irritation.

That made both Jango and Jaster laugh; they both knew that the _verd'e_ were just as bad.

Sure enough, the rest of the _vod'e_ were perched around their table with sabacc cards in hand. There were piles of various small items around. Candies, small jerky pouches, and a few credit chips. Bets, from the looks of it, but nothing big enough to be more than a token effort.

"-- I'm telling you," Wooley said, tossing down a card, "scented blaster oil is definitely a thing."

" _Blaster_ oil," Boil said with a leer. 

There were snorts of amusement all around. Jango was pretty sure he was missing some kind of essential slang.

"What would you want scented blaster oil for?" Ben asked as he breezed through the room to get to the kitchen. Probably to set up some hot water for tea.

"It's not for us. It's for Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas," Waxer said.

Jango dropped into one of the empty chairs at the table. Buir and Cody followed suit.

"Why the kriff would two _jetiise_ need blaster oil?" Jango asked. _Jetiise_ didn't use blasters. Everyone knew that.

Most of the _vod'e_ just cackled. Even Ben looked amused. 

"Do I even want to know?" Jaster asked with a groan.

"I'm starting to feel like I need to," Cody said, glaring at the rest of them.

"We were just thinking that we never gave Master Dooku a welcome gift," Waxer said innocently.

"A welcome gift." Ben walked back in with a fresh cup of tea, complete with a delicate saucer to put the used leaves on when it was done steeping. From his flat expression, he didn't buy their altruism for a moment. 

"You know, for him and Master Sifo-Dyas. Since they are _such good friends_ ," Boil said with a snicker.

Jango grimaced. He'd already seen Dooku drunk as hell, the last thing he needed was to picture him and another _jetii_ together. 

"I never needed to think about that, thanks," Jango said, rubbing his face.

"I could see it, though," Jaster said. He'd narrowed his eyes and was staring off into the distance with a distinctly speculative air about him. Jango put that on the list of things he never needed to know about his _buir_.

Ben glared at them just long enough to let them know how much he disapproved of the current subject of gossip before shrugging and stirring his tea. 

"He was in a suspiciously good mood this morning," Jaster pointed out.

"Really?" Jango shot him a raised eyebrow. "You really think they're kriffing?"

Granted, Dooku had smiled a bit more and not been quite as cold or haughty during the Council meeting. But that was hardly the look of a guy who'd just gotten lucky. 

Jango shuddered. Why was he even thinking about this?

"Absolutely," Waxer said at the same time Helix said, "Maybe."

Wooley wobbled his head back and forth like he hadn't decided. 

"So we were thinking, a nice welcome to Mandalore gift for them, just to flush out some more information," Crys said. "We haven't really had time to hit up a sex shop, but we could find scented oil easy enough. Maybe a nice kink manual. I bet a stuffy _jetii_ like Master Sifo-Dyas might appreciate that."

Jaster barked out a loud laugh and Ben covered his mouth really quickly. Probably to keep from spitting out his tea. 

Jango just hid his face in his hands and blacklisted that thought right out of his head. Kark. His _vod’ike_ in a _sex shop_. 

For a minute, his mind strayed to Arla. She’d been dead for years now, murdered by Death Watch along with his birth _buir’e_. If she was alive right now, she’d be teasing the kriff out of him for this whole damn situation.

His grief was an old, well worn companion. Faded by time, but still present. He tucked it away quickly before it could spoil the mood. 

Crys got a distinctive gleam to his eyes, and eyed Ben. "Master Dooku is probably into all that, you know? He seems like a guy who likes to administer some discipline."

Clearly, he was trying to get a reaction. That was the only thing that kept Jango from losing his shit right there, because ‘Master Dooku' and ‘discipline' were pretty damn high on the list of kark that he never wanted to think about. 

Hells, now he absolutely was going to think about it next time he saw Dooku.

Jango rubbed his face. 

Ben just raised a delicate eyebrow at him. "As generous and kind as your plan is, I guarantee you that both Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku are well educated on the subject of sex."

"Oh really?" Longshot leered at him.

"Sex education is required in the Temple. The course is extensive, and anyone who trains for diplomacy is required to take a more detailed class." Ben sipped his tea with perfect aplomb. 

"So you've taken this class, General?" Helix asked, leaning in.

"Of course."

Ben's innocent face was significantly better than Waxer's.

Then he laughed. "Seriously, though, it's actually very important for negotiations. Not every world holds the same cultural expectations around sex, and that's not even including what different species practice for pleasure and reproduction. It is extremely difficult to be a successful diplomat when you don't understand the cultural norms of the people you're talking with. Or have never heard of anything like them."

Most of the _vod'e_ gave him a skeptical look. 

Helix won that round of cards. On the next one they dealt Jango and Jaster in automatically. Ben shook his head in silence, declining to join, and just continued to sip his tea. 

"So a sex manual wouldn't really faze them," Boil said with mild disappointment.

"Not only that, but it would probably get forwarded on to Master Yoda," Ben said. "Remember, Master Sifo-Dyas is a High Councilor, and you would be giving them an official welcoming gift from Mandalore. Thus, Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku will need to report it, if not hand it over to the Temple quartermaster."

"So?" Crys shrugged. "The little troll might get a kick out of it."

"Oh, I have no doubt that he would find it hilarious. But he, and every other Jedi from the Temple who interacted with _buir_ would bring it up in conversation." Ben gave Jaster a look.

"Please, no. Please," Jaster groaned. "That is the last thing I need." 

"Once you open that door, it can't be closed," Ben said sagely. 

Crys hummed and tossed down a card. 

Jango's hand was shit. He was glad they weren't betting creds on this game. 

"That takes us back to square one about seeing if they are screwing," Longshot said.

"Why is this important?" Jango asked. 

"Because it's interesting?" Wooley said.

Jaster laughed. "Good thing you're apprenticed to Ardanna. Wanting to know all the secrets is half of an armorer's job."

"I knew we liked her for a reason," Crys said.

"It's because she gives you explosives," Ben supplied.

"Well, yes."

All of the _vod'e_ nodded. Jaster smothered a laugh, and Jango snickered. 

His _vod'ike_ sure did enjoy their firepower. 

Ben stirred his tea. "You know, Master Dooku was always known as one of Master Sifo-Dyas' only close associates. I never met him, when I was a youngling, but Master Sifo-Dyas had a reputation."

"Like, a sexy reputation?" Boil asked, his expression dubious.

"No. He was considered quite mad," Ben said sadly. "One step from being cast out. Master Dooku was one of the few who tolerated him. Or so I heard."

"Unfortunate," Cody said, looking over his cards, "but I'm not sure how it's relevant now."

"He seems alright, as far as I can tell," Helix added with a half shrug.

"Every High Councilor is accustomed to being the subject of a certain amount of rumors, but it's very possible that Master Sifo-Dyas may be more insulted by negative insinuations than most," Ben said thoughtfully. "He's already the source of so much speculation, and very little of it positive. Having yet another aspect of his personal life poked fun at might well damage our relations with both him and Master Dooku. Especially if Master Dooku and he are as close to each other as you think."

That made the _vod'e_ pause.

"We weren't poking fun, were we?" Waxer asked, looking a little concerned.

Ben settled back into his chair with his cup. "No, I don't think so. I'm just letting you know that you should be cautious. He might be prickly."

"Hmm. We might have to feel him out first. See how he reacts," Boil said pensively.

"Or just make the gift a little more subtle," Wooley said, shuffling his cards. "We just want to see if there's anything to see. Not make them hermit up."

"They're already going to be tight lipped about it, if there is anything going on," Ben said. "Master Sifo-Dyas will be under an incredible amount of scrutiny because of his position, and Master Yoda is Master Dooku's master."

Jango frowned. "So?"

"Master Yoda in particular is very against attachment," Ben explained. "As Grandmaster of the Order, his opinion holds a lot of sway."

"So he's got motivation to give them both shit if he feels like it," Cody said, tossing a card down.

"Just so." Ben nodded. He sighed. "I can't tell you how many lectures I got for being too close to Anakin. I was required to give near constant reports on his progress, especially about how he was integrating to the Jedi mindset. I have had to maintain a… very rigid standard of conduct, and it wasn't even me they were suspicious of. I can't imagine what it would be like for Master Sifo-Dyas if he were suspected of being in a long term relationship."

The mood around the table turned subdued. Ben looked far more tired than any twelve year old had a right to be.

"No offence, Ben, but your High Council sounds like a bunch of assholes," Jaster said. He folded his hand and stood up. "I'm gonna go check on lunch. Try not to plan any diplomatic disasters while I'm gone." 

The words were joking, but his disgust with what Ben had said was palpable. 

Checking on lunch was clearly an excuse to take a walk, since Jango knew damn well that all they had to do to really check was comm the kitchen. It was probably better for him to step out and take a breath instead of start making some of his own plans about diplomatic disasters. 

They all played the next hand of cards silently.

"So buying them lube is definitely out," Boil said, sounding a little depressed. 

Jango cracked up laughing. _Blaster oil_. Oh, kriff. His _vod'ike_ were such soldiers.

"Hmmm. Maybe an armor manual," Wooley said musingly. 

"Why?" Helix asked.

"Gotta exchange armor to start a courtship. If they are together and they're trying to keep it quiet, they could still exchange armor like _mando'ad'e_. No one in the Temple would get it, but they could be openly _riduur'e_. A really good _beskar'gam_ manual would detail that out."

Cody raised his eyebrows and nodded. "That might work, _vod_."

"Assuming that either of them reads it," Jango pointed out. Ben was good and Master Dooku seemed to be on the level, but he still wasn't sure about Master Sifo-Dyas.

"It's pretty likely that they would. I would, if I were given such a thing while out on mission," Ben said. "It's an important cultural tradition, and chances are good that they both will be interacting with Mandalore for a long time. They'll want as much information as they could get."

"Would make Ardanna happy, too," Jango said. "She liked Dooku and Plo enough to suggest that they get armored up. Anything that pushes them towards sanity will be a bonus in her book."

The _vod'e_ made quiet, happy noises as they looked at their cards. 

Before the conversation could start back up, Jaster was back along with Master Sifo-Dyas, Master Dooku, Obi-Wan, and lunch.

Obi-Wan bounced into the room, holding a large container. It wasn't large for an adult, but it was _huge_ in Obi-Wan's arms.

" _Vod'e_ , look!" he said, shoving the container onto the table with extraordinary effort. "Moratyn is the cook ‘nd she helped teach me to make all kinds of stuff! ‘Nd I made you all bread ‘nd cookies!"

"Thank you, Cadet," Waxer said with a smile. "You all cleaned up now?"

"Yup, Master Sy helped me with a bath because the flour was _everywhere_." Obi-Wan heaved a massive sigh.

"Nothing a little water couldn't fix," Master Sifo-Dyas said. He had an armload of boxes as well; lunch, unloaded from the cart in the hall from the looks of them.

From Jango's limited knowledge of the man, he couldn't tell if Master Sifo-Dyas was in a good mood or just normally pleasant. He wasn't effusive by any means. There was just a quiet, relaxed happiness about him.

Master Dooku still looked like he was in a great mood. 

They all helped clean up the cards and set up the table for lunch. Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas moved around each other like people used to being in one another's space. They didn't touch, though. Not at all. 

Maybe they were just friends.

As they arranged things, Obi-Wan kept up a stream of excited chatter which the _vod'e_ nodded along to with rapt attention. He very carefully placed a lumpy, vaguely round cookie on everyone's plate. 

He was very proud.

Even Jango had to admit that it was adorable. 

Master Dooku gave his cookie a slightly dubious look. 

Master Sifo-Dyas smirked at him. "Moratyn was careful to keep an eye on Obi-Wan's efforts," he said. "I've already had one. They're very tasty."

"I got Master Sy to help!" Obi-Wan said. "Crèche Master Tinna said that Jedi never stop learning, ‘nd since Master Sy didn't know how to cook like Moratyn cooks, he got to learn and help too."

"Please tell me there is recorded evidence of this," Master Dooku said, eyeing Master Sifo-Dyas.

Jaster poked at his comm. "Oh yeah. There absolutely is. I've already got copies."

Jango was pretty sure that he would have copies too by the end of the day. If not from Jaster, then from Ardanna. Her senior apprentice was good friends with some of the cooking staff.

"All for a good cause," Master Sifo-Dyas said with a mild sigh. He shot Master Dooku a pointed glance. 

"What?" Master Dooku was all innocence. "My dear Master Sifo-Dyas, I would never dream of casting aspersions on your character by spreading such pictures around the Temple."

Master Sifo-Dyas gave him a knowing look, and then shrugged. "Master Lene might be interested," he offered.

"And they are?" Jaster asked.

Food was passed around as they spoke. Master Sifo-Dyas very quickly made sure that Obi-Wan had something to start with while the rest of them filled their plates. The little one was making quiet _nom nom_ sounds while he ate. Jango legitimately thought that Waxer might die, based on his expression.

"Master Lene was my master," Master Sifo-Dyas explained. "I rarely see her now, though we were closer than most master-padawan teams are."

"She would likely love a holo of you teaching an initiate," Master Dooku said. 

"You've already had _two_ padawans. You've already fulfilled your duty as a knight." Master Sifo-Dyas gave Master Dooku a slightly exasperated look. 

Jango was a little confused about the relevance of Dooku's teaching history.

"Ah. She wants a grandpadawan, then," Ben said knowingly. "I'm surprised that Master Yoda hasn't started meddling yet."

Jango shared a look with his _buir_. He'd never thought that the _jetiise_ would have little squabbles like this. For the life of them, they sounded just like any number of other _verd'e_ that Jango knew, with the older generations prodding at the younger to hurry up and pick someone to swear the _riduurok_ with and get on to having _ad'e_. 

"Master Yoda is not a strong advocate for the Unifying Force," Master Sifo-Dyas said. "And he has… reservations about how I was exposed to the Cosmic Force." Seeing the _what the kark_ expression on nearly everyone else's faces, Master Sifo-Dyas explained further. "The Living Force is that which exists now; the energy that flows through all living things in this moment. The Unifying Force is the concept that all things -- animate, inanimate, past, present, and future -- are all bound together in the same tapestry. Those of us who receive Force visions are strong in the Unifying Force. What happens somewhere, at some point in time, can be accessed at any other point in time. All things are connected."

"The Cosmic Force is that which binds the Living Force and the Unifying Force together," Master Dooku picked up the thread. "Master Sifo-Dyas first started getting Force visions after he was exposed to a nexus of the Cosmic Force."

Jango blinked.

"In basic, please," Jaster said, sounding exasperated.

Master Sifo-Dyas let out a short laugh. "What I mean to say is that while Master Yoda would never dream of banning me from taking a padawan, he certainly isn't going to encourage it due to our philosophical differences." His smile twisted for a brief moment. "It is well proven that younglings who get visions have... difficulties."

He bent his head to apply himself to his lunch.

 _Well, that's gonna go over well_ , Jango thought, eyeing the _vod'e_.

Sure enough, most of them had a very calculating look about them. 

"I, on the other hand, was very gently guided in my padawan choices," Master Dooku said. "Though it is said that the padawan chooses the master, oftentimes there is a spark in the Force. A sense of connection and rightness. As one well versed in the Living Force, Master Yoda is quite adept at sensing these connections."

"Uh huh." Jaster didn't sound like he believed it.

Ben nodded though. "Master Yoda had quite a bit to say about my padawanship. I think he pays special attention to his lineage."

Since Jango wasn't yet one hundred percent sure who Ben's master was, that piqued his interest. The _vod'e_ already knew, he was sure of it, because they looked downright murderous. 

"Obi-Wan," Cody said.

"Hmmph?" Obi-Wan looked up, mouth stuffed full of fruit chunks. 

"Has Master Yoda spoken to you much yet?" Cody asked.

Obi-Wan nodded and then focused on chewing really hard. Once his mouth was clear, he nodded again. "Yup! Master Yoda spends a lot of time in the crèches. He teaches 'sabre classes."

Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas exchanged a look. 

"Young Obi-Wan is a few years out from being eligible to be chosen as a padawan," Master Sifo-Dyas said. "And he has already garnered attention from several masters, myself and Master Dooku included. Master Plo Koon, Master Kit Fisto, and Master Mace Windu have all been interested in his progress, though Master Windu is currently finishing the training of Padawan Depa Billaba."

Master Dooku nodded. "I would be greatly surprised if one of us didn't offer to train Obi-Wan, though time will tell us who will be the best fit for him."

There was steel in his voice, and a darkly satisfied quirk on his lips. It very neatly implied that Master Dooku would _make sure_ that one of the masters his friend had just listed would apprentice Obi-Wan, if he or Master Sifo-Dyas didn't get to it first. 

The _vod'e_ looked relieved, but Ben looked…

Jango wasn't sure how Ben looked. His face had taken on that unreadable neutrality, something that Jango had started to associate with something being not-quite right.

"There's a lot of time, yet, before that happens," Master Sifo-Dyas said quietly. "For now, we have other matters to attend to. I thought perhaps we would all spend some time in the training halls this afternoon?"

Obi-Wan brightened up immediately. "Can we, please? Are we gonna use training 'sabres? Can my _vod'e_ come? Do they get training 'sabres, too?"

The _vod'e_ looked at him in mild surprise, and then glanced at each other.

"Cadet, we wouldn't know the first thing about using a 'sabre," Cody said.

Obi-Wan frowned at him. The expression was so intense that he actually stopped eating. 

"But." He paused to look around the table, and his brows wrinkled in worry. "But there are brothers who fight with 'sabres. I had a dream about it."

From the gobsmacked expressions on all of his _vod'ike_ , this was news to them.

"Visions are a tricky thing, Obi-Wan," Master Sifo-Dyas said. 

Nothing about his posture or expression betrayed any kind of worry, which was a stark contrast to the way the _vod'e_ had reacted. He just nibbled at his cookie and leaned back in his chair. 

"Sometimes, the Force shows us things that will be," Master Sifo-Dyas continued. "Sometimes it shows us things that _might_ be. Sometimes we see things, and only by seeing them and acting on those visions do they ever come about."

Obi-Wan tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Master Sifo-Dyas took a sip of his tea. "It's called ‘self-fulfilling prophecy'. A prophecy is a story about something that happens in the future, that people believe will actually happen. And ‘self-fulfilling' means that the prophecy makes itself true just by existing. For example…"

He gestured at the table around them. "You dreamed of brothers using 'sabres, yes?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"Now, these _vod'e_ have never heard of that. They are quite surprised. But because you had this dream, you want them to come train with us and practice their 'sabre skills."

"Yes?" Obi-Wan looked thoughtful now.

Master Sifo-Dyas leaned in towards Obi-Wan. "Now, it's possible that you would have wanted them to train with you anyways. It's fun to learn skills with people you enjoy being around. But..." He dropped his voice, suddenly making it sound like he was imparting some secret of the universe. " _What if_ you'd never had a dream of brothers fighting with 'sabres? And because you didn't have the dream, you didn't think to invite them to 'sabre practice, and then they never learned, and never went on to teach other brothers about it later? Then there would be no brothers with 'sabres."

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped, but not in surprise. He looked personally offended.

"But! That's!" Obi-Wan sputtered.

"Not fair?" Master Sifo-Dyas suggested, with a curious tilt to his head.

"Yes! What if the dream is something bad? Then when you do stuff to make it stop, it just _makes the dream happen_." Obi-Wan's indignant irritation was almost hilarious. 

"This is why the High Council doesn't often approve of acting on visions," Master Sifo-Dyas said. "One of the reasons, anyways. They have a point, I will admit. It is _possible_ that these types of situations occur. However, it is my belief that as Jedi we should not be ruled by fear. It is our calling to ease suffering in the galaxy, and a forewarning is sometimes the difference between the life and death of thousands."

He put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile. 

"Trust your instincts, Obi-Wan," he said. "They will guide you, as the Force guides you."

Obi-Wan blinked at him. "You're trying to tell me to be careful."

"I am."

"You're trying to tell me to _think_ about my visions, not just... do things." Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. 

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled warmly at him. "I am. It's a big lesson, but you'll have a lot of time to practice."

Obi-Wan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. The frown on his face was more contemplative now.

Master Sifo-Dyas went back to drinking his tea.

"That's a lot for a five year old," Jaster said after a long pause.

"It is," Master Sifo-Dyas agreed. 

Jango was a little impressed. Both with Master Sifo-Dyas and with Obi-Wan. That kind of situational thinking was something that Jango could see adults having problems puzzling through, let alone a kid. Sifo-Dyas had broken it down into something a child could understand, and Obi-Wan had _gotten the lesson_. 

The _vod'e_ all looked a little surprised. 

Ben was back to being unreadable. 

"My _vod'e_ should come to 'sabre training with me," Obi-Wan decreed. He put his hands on the table and leaned forward, and there was fire in his gaze.

"Tell me why, Initiate," Master Sifo-Dyas asked mildly.

"‘Cause if this was a, a, self-fuffffling... thing," Obi-Wan scowled at the unfamiliar words, "then it's one I wanna see happen."

"You know they get a choice in the matter, too, right?" Master Sifo-Dyas raised an eyebrow at him. He wasn't smiling, but he did look amused.

"Of course." Obi-Wan looked offended all over again. Then he switched his focus to Cody. His eyes grew wide and his whole body tensed with anticipation. "Please, Cody? Come train with me?"

Waxer and Boil made a wounded noise, and Crys gently knocked the table with his knuckles. Cody looked like he'd been shot.

"Yes." Cody swallowed hard. "I mean, sure, Cadet. A little more training sounds fun."

Jaster covered his mouth with one hand, clearly holding back laughter. Jango didn't bother to restrain himself. 

Kark, his _vod'ike_ were whipped. That was the funniest thing he'd seen all week. 

Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku exchanged amused looks. 

"Maybe next week we'll talk about emotional manipulation," Master Sifo-Dyas muttered.

Ben snorted and sipped his tea.

\--

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

Waking up was confusing.

For one thing, it was the middle of second shift and he had neither reason nor desire to be awake.

Everything was fine. There was nothing wrong.

And yet, something was _different._

Waxer let his face scrunch up as he stretched. Or tried to. His left arm wouldn't move. It was pinned firmly in someone's grip.

Well, that wasn't too unusual.

He loosened his muscles and then slowly pried his eyes open, and only then did he realise what was different.

 _What the--?_

The Cadet had somehow gotten past their security systems and joined them during the night, without waking anyone.

Impressed, Waxer scrubbed at his face with his free hand, wincing a little when the grit at the corners of his eyes scratched at sensitive skin.

The second thing he realised, was that the Cadet was awake.

A mix of sleepy irritation and dismay took hold of him. _Kark, I hope I didn't wake him._

The Cadet wrapped him in reassurance in the network, and Waxer relaxed. Kark, that was potent. No wonder the Commander had knuckled under so quickly, when it had been directed at him, that first day. It was like a hit of Helix's best drugs. The ones that made you stop giving a kriff that you hurt from head to toe and left you in a bit of a daze for a few hours.

"Is everything okay, Cadet?" He asked quietly, bringing up his free hand to run it through soft red hair.

The Cadet shrugged. "I had a sad dream. Master Sy said I could come sleep with you."

A sad dream? Waxer wanted to wince. That almost certainly meant another vision, and probably one involving the _Vod'e_. He tucked the little one in close to his side, hugging him, and offering physical reassurance in reply to what he'd gotten.

"No need for sad dreams here, Cadet," he replied, keeping his voice low and even so as not to wake the others, who slept peacefully on. "When we're all here, together, we'll all help each other keep the sad dreams away."

Obi's arms went around his waist and hugged him tight. "Thanks, Waxer," he said.

There was a pause long enough that he thought the Cadet had fallen back to sleep, and was about to let his own eyes fall shut again, before the youngling added, his voice a bare whisper. "I wish your Remembrances weren't so hard. They take so _long_ and make all of you _so sad_."

His first thought -- how the kriff did the Cadet find out about that? -- got very quickly drowned out by the rising tide of emotion the comment sent through him. Though Boil didn't wake, the arm he had around Waxer tightened, turning the hold into a comforting hug.

Waxer swallowed hard, tears coming to his eyes, and he took a hitching breath as he forced the emotions away again as best he could. "They are, and they do," he acknowledged, "but it would hurt more not to say them, Obi. Our Remembrances keep our lost _Vod'e_ alive, in our hearts and in our memories."

"Lost?" Obi asked, "Like Hawk Eyes?"

Thank kriff the Commander was still out cold. "Yeah, Cadet, like Hawk Eyes."

"Ben promised me he would explain why the other _Vod'e_ couldn't come say hi, but then he didn't," Obi-Wan grumbled, sounding eerily like Kenobi did when he was put out about something. "Will you?"

Put on the spot like that, Waxer hesitated. On the one hand, the Cadet already knew he and the General were the same person; he knew that there would be weird time travel nonsense. On the other, Waxer hated to have to tell him that Captain Rex hadn't made it back through time with them. Or worse, that Captain Rex might never exist, if they didn't find a way back to their own time and somehow managed to pull off the General's no doubt insane plan to stop the Clone Wars from happening in the first place.

Not to mention... how the _kriff_ did one explain all that to a five year old?

Obi looked up at him, blue-green eyes huge and round, and Waxer gave in. "Alright, Cadet, but let's go out to the sitting room so we don't bother the others."

Obi-Wan let Waxer help him to his feet, then carefully picked his way out of the tangle of sleeping _Vod'e_ on his tip-toes, managing not to step on or disturb any of them. Waxer dropped a kiss on his _riduur_ 's temple, then carefully slid out of Boil's grip and followed.

It was simultaneously surprising and entirely predictable that he found Master Sifo-Dyas keeping watch outside their sleeping quarters. Waxer eyed him warily for a moment as he shut the door behind himself, then shrugged, "Good morning, Master." 

"Good morning, Waxer," he replied, getting a little stiffly to his feet. "It's quite early. Why are you two awake?"

"I'm not sure, sir, but I am. And Obi already was, when I woke," he answered.

"So you decided to get out of bed?" Master Sifo-Dyas asked, his tone mild, but carrying a bit of censure.

"He wanted to know why Hawk Eyes couldn't come join us. That's not something that should be discussed in the same room the others are trying to sleep in," Waxer replied evenly. "I wasn't about to wake them for _that_. And how did the two of you get into our suite without setting off our security systems, anyways?"

The _jetii_ shrugged at him and smirked a little. "Obi-Wan knew how. I suspect he saw it in one of his visions."

The Cadet grinned up at them. "Yup!" He agreed, cheerfully. "But it still wasn' easy, Master Sy. My _vod'e_ have a _very_ comp-- complipcated system."

Somehow that figured. It really only made sense that the Cadet, likely very unsettled because of whatever vision he'd had and needing the comfort the _Vod'e_ freely offered their General, would have sought them out. And it made sense that he would have known how to get through their security systems, for that matter. It was a bit... uncomfortable, that he'd brought along Master Sifo-Dyas, but for now, Waxer decided, he could cope with the _jetii_ 's presence.

"Come on, Cadet," Waxer suggested, "let's get you some milk to drink, and then I'll explain."

"Okay!" Obi-Wan accepted that with a nod, then grabbed for his hand and started dragging him towards their dining area.

Caught off guard, Waxer almost stumbled. When he'd recovered, he simply scooped the youngling up into his arms and carried him along. Obi-Wan was audibly very pleased about that, wrapping his arms around Waxer's neck and telling him how strong he was and how amazing. Much like the cadets on Kamino had, when Waxer had had the rare chance to spend time with them.

The thought sent a small pang through him, as it always did. He set Obi-Wan down, once he reached their small kitchenette, and pulled down three mugs as the _jetii_ followed them. Waxer pointed him toward a seat at their long table, and started pouring out servings of the blue milk they kept on hand for occasions like this, when one or the other of them needed something non-caffeinated to drink that also wasn't water.

Master Sifo-Dyas took the seat Waxer pointed out, at the very end of the table, and he took that as his cue to serve the _jetii_ some milk of his own.

"My thanks," the Master said with an amused quirk of his lips.

Obi-Wan imitated him when Waxer handed off the second mug of milk. "My thanks," he said, lisping just slightly. 

Kark, but the kid was cute. So well behaved, when he wasn't doing his best to turn the rules into the equivalent of a bundle of hopelessly tangled sublight engine wiring.

Waxer nodded. "You're welcome."

He took the mug he'd prepared for himself, and put one hand between the youngling's shoulder blades, so he could give the Cadet a careful push toward the table.

Obi-Wan followed the silent directions readily enough, walking towards the table and holding his mug carefully so that it wouldn't spill. When he was standing in front of the chair next to Master Sifo-Dyas', Obi-Wan looked up at him wordlessly.

Bemused, Waxer set down his mug, pulled out the chair and helped Obi into it. "There you go, Cadet," he said, and moved to take his own seat, opposite the youngling, on the Master's other side.

Obi-Wan was having none of that, though. He grabbed for Waxer's hand again, and held onto him tightly. "Come give me a hug, _vod_?" He requested. "I left Blocky in my room."

Puzzled but not unwilling, Waxer decided to just go with it. "Who's Blocky?" He asked.

Master Sifo-Dyas answered. "Blocky is Obi-Wan's loth-cat plushy."

Oh. Stifling his smile, he carefully pushed his mug across the table until it was next to the Cadet's. "Alright, Obi-Wan," he said, resigning himself to his fate. Not that it was such a terrible one.

His acceptance got him a bright smile. 

It took them a couple of tries to get settled comfortably -- Obi-Wan had surprisingly little meat on his bones, and trying to hold the little one in his lap was liable to leave him with bruises on his thighs -- but they managed it.

They all took sips of their milk, and Obi-Wan took advantage of their Force bond to radiate contentment at him.

Waxer had to agree. This was where the little one was meant to be, and all of them knew it.

After a few seconds that felt like hours, the Cadet asked, "So why can't Hawk Eyes come see us?"

Waxer sighed and set down his mug. He decided that simple and blunt was likely the best possible option. Both the Cadet and Master Sifo-Dyas were familiar with the strange tale of their origins, after all. There was no need to play word games. "Hawk Eyes' name," he answered quietly, "is Captain Rex, Obi-Wan. And all seven of us miss him lots, but he can't come visit because he's still in the future. He didn't come back with us."

Obi-Wan frowned. "But I dream about him _all the time_ ," he protested. "Are you sure, Waxer?"

Ruffling the youngling's hair, Waxer nodded. "I wish I wasn't. I wish he were here. He was one of our best _Vod'e_. Smart and strong. Able to do just about anything. He was one of the Commander's best friends, too."

The Cadet's expression cleared a little. "So if he's still in the future, that means if I wait a little, I can still see him," he said firmly. "Good."

Unable to summon up the willpower to refute that, Waxer nodded.

Master Sifo-Dyas picked that moment to interject. "Don't forget, Obi-Wan. You've seen Captain Rex in a lot of your visions and dreams, but those visions are only one possible future. It might still change."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I remember, Master Sy, but the Force is telling me I'm right."

Waxer found himself hoping that the little one's faith would turn out to be justified.

"And now that you've heard the explanation you wanted, you should drink up your milk and go back to sleep," the _jetii_ added, his tone brooking no arguments

"Yes, Master Sy," Obi-Wan agreed, apparently more or less content, now that he'd heard what he needed to.

Waxer picked up his mug, downed what was in it, and waited long enough for Obi-Wan to finish his as well, before he set the youngling on his feet. It was the work of a few seconds to rinse the mugs and set them aside to dry, and then the Cadet was eagerly dragging him back into their sleeping quarters, explaining that he'd already turned their security systems back on so there was no need to worry.

Master Sifo-Dyas picked out a spot on their sofa, and slipped easily into what looked like one of the meditations General Kenobi did once in a while during ground campaigns, so Waxer assumed the _jetii_ would be fine where he was. For his part, Waxer wasn't overly pleased with the way that the Master had simply made himself at home, but the Cadet trusted him, and he hadn't made any move to try to keep Obi-Wan away from the _Vod'e_ despite the _jetii_ prejudice against family and attachments of any kind. He decided that, for the Cadet's sake, he'd tolerate the intrusion without much of a fight.

The General's eyes opened briefly when they re-entered the sleeping quarters, but he didn't comment on the Cadet's presence. This time, once they were settled back in the comfortable tangle of limbs and warm bodies, the Cadet's eyes seemed to close of their own accord, and he was dead to the world within about a minute.

It was kind of impressive.

Waxer squirmed deeper into his _riduur_ 's arms, content with the current situation despite their utter lack of any kind of way back to their own time and their _Vod'e_. For the time being, all was as it needed to be, despite the lack of their usual reinforcements.

Sure, they didn't have literal thousands of their _Vod'e_ at their backs in the form of the 7th Sky, or even the rest of the two hundred _Vod'e_ that made up Ghost Company, but they had their General, twice over, and they had their _ori'vod_ and the _Mand'alor_.

He barely noticed it when he fell asleep, himself.

He definitely noticed it, when, what felt like a bare moment later, an exclamation of surprise woke him.

"Cadet?" Crys asked, a bit stunned, "How in the galaxy did _you_ get in here?"

Obi-Wan made a grumpy sound, and simply rolled over so he could bury his face in Waxer's stomach.

Waxer ran his hands through the Cadet's hair and down the length of his spine. "He apparently knows how to deactivate our security," he answered, keeping his voice low, calm, even though all of his _Vod'e_ were already awake and alert. Continuing to run his hands through Obi-Wan's hair, Waxer added, "I woke up around 0230 and he was here. Said he dreamt about our Remembrances, and then wanted to know about Captain Rex."

Helix made a slightly exasperated sound.

Kenobi answered him, though a bit ruefully. "Well, I guess I did promise him that explanation. Sorry, Waxer."

He waved that off. "You can make it up to me by dealing with it, yourself, next time," he suggested.

The General nodded. "I'd have done it _this_ time, but _buir_ distracted me with all those questions about those candidates he's considering for the gubernatorial posting on Concordia. I didn't have a whole lot of leisure time, last rotation."

"A convenient excuse," the Commander teased lightly, still sprawled out on the mattress with his eyes shut. "I'd almost think you'd planned it, if I didn't know you kept your promises, General." 

Boil distracted him from their bantering officers by leaning in to drop a kiss on the nape of his neck. "At least we got to hear about the way our Cadet was pestering the cooks and making all that loud commentary about spices being the physical manifestation of the Dark Side," he put in, drawing a loud groan out of Obi-Wan, who was apparently still tired.

"G' b'k t' sleep," their Cadet muttered at them with a huff and wrapped himself more firmly around Waxer.

Helix made an amused sound. "I guess you're nominated to play body pillow, _Vod_ ," he said. "We'll bring you some caff and snacks. Let the little one sleep himself out."


	36. Chapter 36

\--- POV: Ardanna Byzkan ---

On the second full day after the visiting _jetii_ and the tiny _jet'ika_ had arrived, Ardanna was visited by Jaster. She was very pleased with his timing. Any sooner and it would have implied an emergency, or distrust of the _jetiise_. Any later and he would begin to tread into the realm of discourtesy towards her.

Jaster Mereel was a very conscientious _Mand'alor_. 

Since she'd already seen images of the little _jet'ika_ dragging around his minder and the _ad'e be'Mand'alor_ , she was well aware that the child was being well received. He was courteous and inquisitive. 

More than that, the little one lit the curiosity of all of the _mando'ad'e_. Barring Ben, none of them had ever seen a _jetii_ so young. Ben could not possibly be a standard example, either. Not with how he'd so thoroughly flummoxed his examiners. 

By all accounts, the little _jet'ika_ was nothing like any of them expected. _Jetiise_ were cold. Calculating under the guise of peacekeeping. Emotionless, or so it had been said. Ben certainly handled himself with unnatural calm, so perhaps in that he was much like the rumors said. The _jetiise_ were child stealers. The Republic law even allowed this, a fact which had always turned Ardanna's stomach. The _jetiise_ were as bland as their emotionless faces, with drab robes and fanatic following of the Force.

The stories that Ardanna kept of the ancient wars were just that; ancient. _Mando'ad'e_ avoided the _jetiise_ , and the few who interacted with them seldom had good things to say.

Still. Ardanna had been the keeper of their people's lore for a very long time. She was well aware that rumor and hearsay was not always fact, and that the easiest way to hate an enemy was to strip them of the very qualities that made them _people_.

So she, like everyone else at the palace, was extremely curious about the visiting little one.

From all the stories that she'd heard so far and all the holos that had been shown to her, of which there were a surprising number, the little _jet'ika_ was _nothing_ like they'd expected.

The child was friendly. Warm, even, and to everyone he met. Mira's friends in the kitchen had shared stories of the little one jumping with excitement to learn everything they were willing to tell him. 

About _cooking_. Why a _jetii_ child would want to know this, or even be allowed to ask, she had no idea.

That was the other shock. The _jetii_ master that was guardian for the child on the trip was as indulgent of the child's interests as any proud _buir_. He had encouraged questions and gently guided the little one towards greater understanding and kindness. He'd allowed the little one to douse him in flour while they were cooking. 

How strange to think that for all the centuries of ire and disgust and stories to the contrary, the _jetiise_ loved their _ad'e_ as much as any _mando'ad_ would. 

Ardanna was of course reserving judgement until she'd met them herself and more stories had come in, but for now the outlook was promising.

Which was why she was so surprised that when Jaster walked into her armoury that morning, he looked about ready to tear out his hair.

" _Mand'alor_ ," she greeted him with a nod and a tap of her fist on her chest.

Jaster returned the salute absently and took a seat at her work bench. 

"Visit going poorly?" she said as she joined him.

"Better than I expected, honestly." Jaster shrugged. "Obi-Wan is a good kid, and my _ad'ike_ are damn near head over heels in love with him."

Ardanna tilted her head in surprise. She'd heard that the _jet'ika_ was close to the _vod'e_ , which made sense given Ben, but to have Jaster confirm just how taken they were was interesting. 

"Tell me," she said. Since she knew that Jaster wasn't there for his armour, she picked up a wiring project that she was working on and started tinkering as he spoke. 

"It's more than a little funny. All that _ad_ needs to do is make his eyes big and watery and the _vod'e_ fold like wet flimsi." Jaster snorted in amusement. "The _ad'ika_ has it weaponized, I swear. So far it looks like only Sifo-Dyas is immune."

Reading between the lines, that meant that Jaster had gotten stuck in that trap himself.

"I've heard that the young one bears a very strong resemblance to Ben," Ardanna said. 

Jaster nodded. "It's complicated, but they are family. Kind of. The _jetiise_ keep saying they don't do the _aliit_ thing, but that's absolutely _osik_. They consider the whole order _aliit_ and then their master and student relationships as immediate family. Mostly." His face twisted and he glanced to the side. "Some of them are just two steps shy of _dar'buir_ ," he muttered. 

Ardanna filed that fact away. 

"Doesn't matter. The _vod'e_ claim Obi-Wan as a _vod_. They'll blackmail the whole damn _jetii_ High Council to make sure that kid is taken care of, and stage a raid if he's not." Now Jaster looked somewhere between fond and exasperated. 

"If they do so, remind them to stop by for some _beskar_ net cartridges. They would be useful for slowing down those with _jetii'kad'e_ ," she offered. 

She'd make sure she had extra in stock, just in case. Rocket propelled net launchers were a reasonably effective non-lethal way of taking out any number of opponents, and _beskar_ wire nets were extremely durable. Better to use such things on a retrieval mission for a child. There would be less chance of injuring the child on accident. 

"I'll let them know," Jaster said with a dark smile. It softened quickly. "Wooley should be here after the early meal." Ardanna nodded. She knew this. "Which brings me to my other point."

Now, Jaster went back to looking harried. 

"What?" Ardanna asked.

He groaned. "Those _vod'e_ think that Dooku and Sifo-Dyas are _riduur'e_. Or that they might be headed that way. They're gonna try to poke the situation to see what they can see. So they'll be asking you for your recommendation on an armour manual to give to them."

Ardanna barked out a laugh. "I see. They'll need one with all the proper courtship traditions listed, will they?"

Jaster nodded. "At least they aren't still planning on giving them a basket of lube. Kriff, the last thing I karking need is that brought up every time someone mentions the _jetiise_ to me."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. Jaster just looked so beleaguered. 

"It's funnier if you're not the one who has to deal with the fallout," he griped. 

"I shall attempt to steer them towards more humorous avenues of attack," she promised. Secretly, she was very interested to see what the _vod'e_ had come up with.

Jaster spent the next half hour filling her in on more details, and then he was off, back to the Council room to argue with chieftains. 

She had just enough time to find the perfect manual and have it added to an empty datachip. It would be dry reading in some parts, but it was comprehensive. 

On one hand, Ardanna wanted the _jetiise_ who were staying here to wear armour. Master Dooku had proven himself to a certain extent, and she, and the _verd'e_ , were willing to trust him in battle. Which meant that he _should_ be wearing armour. 

However, on the other, _beskar_ was not some cheap trinket to be given away thoughtlessly. If Master Dooku was going to wear _beskar'gam_ then he needed to know exactly how to care for it. _Beskar'gam_ was to be treated with utmost respect. It was very important to _mando’ad’e_ and even giving him the chance to wear it was a huge peace offering.

Nebulous plans stewed in the back of her mind. After all, one need not be born of _Manda’yaim_ to follow the Way.

So perhaps her choice of armour manual was another form of test. She would see how well he passed it.

When Wooley arrived for his morning lesson, he brought his _vod'e_ with him. While Ben often joined them, it was also not uncommon for him to be busy with other activities. So she wasn't surprised to see that the little General wasn't with them.

She immediately set Wooley up with some very simple repairs. They required limited skill, but were time consuming and numerous. Perfect work for a starting apprentice. Such repairs also meant that he could easily join them all for some gossip while he soldered wires and patched armourweave. 

"So happy today, eh, _ad'ike_?" Ardanna asked good naturedly. 

"The Cadet is here, of course we're thrilled!" Boil said with a grin. 

The _Cadet_. Interesting choice of wording. Much like they called Ben their General. She wondered if it was a bloodline thing. If all of the _vod'e_ in their family were bound to serve the _vod'e_ in Ben's. 

That didn't ring quite true. 

It didn't matter. She could wait until they were ready to tell her. Prying about it now would be a breach of privacy, and a bad start to her apprenticeship of Wooley.

"Tell me of your _vod'ika_ ," she urged them instead, sensing that this was a subject they would be willing to wax eloquent on.

And indeed it was. 

The next forty minutes were spent listening to them fill her in on how clever, how wise, and how charming the little _jet'ika_ was. Ardanna listened with much relish. Their stories were entertaining and, perhaps more importantly, the _vod'e_ were very happy telling them.

Ardanna admired how disciplined and how skilled these _verd'ike_ were. They were a credit to their _buir_.

They were also far, far too serious for children. War veterans, all of them. It did her heart good to see them genuinely joyful about such simple matters. Of all the possible reasons to be happy, taking delight in a new foundling was an excellent one. 

Eventually, the conversation shifted to the _jetii_ that had come with Obi-Wan. This was another subject that Ardanna was most interested in.

"I'm telling you, they are kriffing," Waxer said. 

He and the rest of his _vod'e_ had taken to cleaning their armour while they gossiped and while Wooley and Ardanna worked on small repairs.

"I donno, _vod_ ," Helix said, shaking his head. 

"Is it so hard to tell?" Ardanna asked.

The _vod'e_ shrugged.

"A bit," Cody said a little reluctantly. " _Jetiise_ are pretty reserved." He paused and grimaced. "Most of them, anyways."

There were some snorts of amusement and one or two mutterings about someone named ‘Skywalker'.

"We're gonna give them a welcome basket," Wooley said as he carefully twisted thin threads of _beskar_ wire into a fine mesh. 

"I heard," Ardanna said with faux-sternness. "Here is the book that you will need for your gift."

She fished the datachip out of one of her belt pouches and set it on the workbench next to Wooley. 

"Wow, that was quick," Crys muttered to himself. The _vod'e_ exchanged a look.

"The _jetiise_ need armour. This is an excellent way to help educate them on their deficiencies," she said. Their resistance to good sense annoyed her.

The _vod'e_ cackled. 

"Well, you got Ben into a full set," Cody said with a nod to her. "Force knows, we've been trying to do that for years. So if anyone can do it, you can."

Ardanna allowed herself a smug smile. 

"Even a little is better than none," she said. "Exchanging bracers would satisfy the _riduurok_ , if they are headed that route."

"Assuming that they get the hint," Longshot said pointedly. 

"Have you considered, _verd'ike_ , that the _jetiise_ might have their own traditions for ones who are considered spouses?" Ardanna asked. 

She'd asked this both to satisfy her own curiosity and also to lead them down a path of understanding. So far she'd heard a great deal of speculation and attempts at prodding the _jetiise_ towards a _mando'ad_ method of self-expression, but nothing about what the _jetiise_ culture demanded.

The _vod'e_ looked at her in surprise. Several of them glanced at Cody, though she couldn't tell if it was because they expected him to lead their response as their commander or not.

" _Jetiise_ don't have spouses," Cody said with a frown. "It's attachment, which their Code forbids."

She hummed in thought. Again, it was more for them that it was for her. 

"And you think there are no close partnerships in the Jedi Order, ever? That after thousands of years, and hundreds of thousands of Jedi in that time if not more, that they have no rituals to deal with such circumstances?"

Cody opened his mouth and let it hang for a moment. This line of thought had obviously never occurred to him. 

He regained control of himself very quickly, but his eyebrows were still furrowed in thought.

"Didn't Kenobi say that he and Skywalker were close?" Crys asked hesitantly. 

Cody shot him an incredulous look. 

"No, no, not like that." Crys waved a hand at him. "I mean, they had a training bond that they kept, right?"

"The Council gave them a hard time about it, but didn't _do_ anything," Helix said thoughtfully. 

Ardanna wasn't truly sure who or what they were talking about. She kept quiet and listened. Even if they never explained further, this was useful information. To her, if no one else, because it would tell her more about her new apprentice and his family. 

"Kinda reminds me of our training," Waxer said. "The longnecks wouldn't have let... anything happen. So we had to keep it secret."

There was so much to unpack in that statement that Ardanna didn't know where to start. Someone had mistreated her _verd'ike_ , enough that they'd kept very important things as quiet as they could manage. She could only guess at what the punishment for discovery would have been, but based on how every one of the _vod'e_ had dropped their voices low and had hunched down as if in hiding, it couldn't have been light.

Ardanna kept herself in check through sheer force of will. 

Whatever had happened was in the past. The _verd'ike_ were the _Mand'alor_ 's foundlings now, and would be cherished as all _ad'e_ should be. 

One day, these _vod'e_ might trust her enough to tell her who had harmed them. When that day came, she would give them the means to wreak righteous justice on them. Until then, she would wait, earn their trust, and teach them by example that there was a better life for them now.

"That's a good point, _vod_ ," Helix mused. "If it's so secret, how do we figure out if they're involved?"

"And how do we let them know no-one here cares if they are?" Boil added. 

They all thought on that for a few minutes.

When it seemed that none of the _vod'e_ had an answer, Ardanna spoke up.

"Start slow, _verd'ike_. Ask questions about their culture. From everything I have heard about the _jetiise_ , they do not shun education. They will answer." 

She kept to her task, allowing the illusion that everything they'd said was just casual chatter. If she spooled up her intensity, they would too, and that was the last thing she wanted right now.

Every one of them perked up.

"Obi-Wan would answer anything," Longshot said. "He doesn't know as much as an adult, but if we ask him while Sifo-Dyas or Dooku are around, they'd probably explain it to him and us."

Ardanna nodded in approval. 

"I bet we could ask Master Dooku about his past missions, too. General stuff. Maybe about how he and Master Sifo-Dyas met." Wooley paused in his repair long enough to mentally chase down that line of reasoning. "If we're careful, it could come off as curiosity rather than fishing."

Cody and Helix both gave him a disbelieving look.

"They're _jetiise_. They can feel our intentions," Cody said.

"Not if we're really, really sneaky," Wooley said. "We've got our shields, sort of, and we don't want to cause any harm, so that won't set off any bad feelings --"

"Probably," Helix muttered.

"-- And it's not like we _don't_ want to know about the Jedi. We just never got much of a chance to know before."

The _vod'e_ watched Cody as he thought it through. He was their commander in truth. They would let him make the call on this.

After a moment, Cody nodded. "Agreed. Wooley, Crys, Boil, you figure out the gift basket. The rest of us will work on slipping more questions into conversation. We'll revisit the topic once we have more intel."

They all nodded, and like that, the subject was tabled. 

Such a smart, cunning, _decisive_ group of _verd'ike_. Ardanna really was proud of them.

\--- POV: Master Sifo-Dyas ---

Sifo-Dyas was more than pleased with how the visit was going so far. 

The days had started to fall into a routine. Morning meditation and breakfast with Obi-Wan alone, sometimes with Doo as well. Then lessons or exploring. Ben and the _vod'e_ took care of their responsibilities during that time, and they all reconvened at lunch and spent the rest of the day together.

At Obi-Wan's urging, Sifo-Dyas had saved physical training for the afternoon when everyone else could join them. He'd only brought a training 'sabre for Obi-Wan and himself, so he'd had to improvise for the _vod'e_. In the end it had taken some discussion with the _Mand'alor_ and his oldest son to resolve that particular quandary. There was, of course, no way to simply produce more training 'sabres out of the air, and there was little point to attempting to share the single one that had made the trip to Mandalore. Shortly after that discussion, the _vod'e_ had been equipped with the _beskad'e_ that Mandalorians apparently traditionally were taught to use, staring down at them in what looked like bewilderment and bemusement.

He could tell that they'd expected the simple drills that Sifo-Dyas and Doo ran them all through. Their absolute _shock_ at the games was nearly as good as Obi-Wan's enjoyment of them.

They played all manner of games. Most of them were things that were taught in the crèches; activities that focused on a specific skill but did so in an enjoyable way so that the little ones didn't realize that they were learning while they were playing. 

These games included 'Grandmaster Says', which was a mimicking game. There were obstacle courses that included jumping and crawling. For those, Sifo-Dyas had conscripted one of the _vod'e_ to help him randomly attempt to grab the participants and drag them away, which was another lesson in awareness. He also ran Obi-Wan through jumping games, during which Obi-Wan would make controlled Force leaps using proper form. Sometimes the _vod'e_ joined him with their jet packs.

Some of the games were ones that Sifo-Dyas had invented on the spot specifically to include the _vod'e_. 

One was a modified version of 'tag'. They were split into two teams, and whoever was 'it' had to reach someone on the other team and touch them. The teams could use group tactics to attempt to corral the other side into getting hit, but only the person who was 'it' was allowed to touch anyone. 

It mostly involved a lot of running. Obi-Wan was often left in giggling fits while watching the rest of them engage in acrobatics to avoid getting tagged. Sifo-Dyas and the _vod'e_ laughed along with him and even Doo was smiling.

By the end of the afternoon training, Obi-Wan was physically tired enough to settle down and engage in calmer activities. 

First and foremost of these was drinking water and stretching out. 

The first day they'd done this, Sifo-Dyas had noticed how the Mandalorians gathered in ones and twos to watch, discreetly. They didn't try to approach, so he didn't stay on his guard. 

Not too much, anyways. 

He was long used to being a public spectacle as a Jedi; he didn't care if they saw him training. Obi-Wan's safety and comfort was another matter. If Obi-Wan had felt uncomfortable with the audience, or if Sifo-Dyas had felt any hint of warning in the Force, he would have moved them all to a private training area before an incident could happen. But Obi-Wan ignored them and the Force stayed quiet, so Sifo-Dyas let their watchers go unremarked upon.

A few days into their routine, they were all taking their water break when Obi-Wan nudged Sifo-Dyas with a pointed finger.

"Master Sy, we keep doin' training for us. Are you gonna train, too?" he asked.

The _vod'e_ focused on him, their interest plain in the Force. Ben looked intrigued.

Doo looked downright smug.

"The youngling is right," Doo said, that smooth-talking instigator. "It's been several days and you haven't run through your standard training at all."

Sifo-Dyas gave him an unimpressed look. He knew _exactly_ what Yan was trying to get to here.

"So the master duelist wishes to trounce me again," he said. He made sure that he was smiling a bit, just to soften the words.

"Surely it's not that extreme," Ben said, waving his half-full canteen at them both. "You're a High Council member. No one who gets to that rank is deficient in any of the core skills of Knighthood."

"I am no poor hand, it's true," Sifo-Dyas admitted, "but Master Dooku is an exemplary duelist. He could beat me in blade work any day of the week."

"If we were only using blades," Doo said reprovingly. "A proper duel uses more than that, and our skills lie in different areas."

Now they'd caught Ben's interest as well. "What form do you favor, Master Sifo-Dyas?"

"Niman," Sifo-Dyas said with a shrug.

Obi-Wan frowned. "What's that like?" he asked.

"Niman, Form VI, is a generalist form," Sifo-Dyas explained. "It combines aspects of many other forms and emphasises use of the Force while fighting. The blade work doesn't have the pure strength or defense of the others, but it allows the practitioner time and space to use their other abilities and their environment in improvisational combat."

"So you throw things with the Force?" Cody asked.

"That's one way to do things, yes, but a crude one."

Doo capped his canteen and stood up. "Come, Master Sifo-Dyas. Let us demonstrate. We'll start with a bout of blade work only, so that young Obi-Wan can see the differences in form, and then we will do a full spar."

Obi-Wan _bounced_ with excitement right where he was seated.

Between the appreciative twinkle in Doo's eyes and the beaming smile on Obi-Wan's face, Sifo-Dyas couldn't refuse. 

He stood and shook his head as he brushed the dust off of his pants. Obi-Wan whooped with excitement. 

"You've seen me train before, Obi-Wan," Sifo-Dyas said with mild exasperation. 

"I've never seen you spar with Master Doo! This is gonna be a-maz-ing."

Sifo-Dyas could tell that Doo was holding himself back from laughing by the skin of his teeth. 

"Alright," he sighed. "But before we start, there are rules!" He looked at Obi-Wan and all of the _vod'e_ sternly. 

Wooley and Helix were typing out text comms to someone, but at Sifo-Dyas's pointed words, even they looked up.

Sifo-Dyas pointed at Obi-Wan. "First. You will stay attached to one of your _vod'e_. You may sit in their lap or however is most comfortable, but whoever you sit with will have a hand on you at all times. This will likely be unusual compared to other types of sparring that you've seen, and I do not want you wandering around."

"Yes, Master Sy!" Obi-Wan quickly crawled into Waxer's lap.

"Second, I want all observers against the walls. I don't mind watchers, but I don't want anyone to get hit by a stray projectile." He switched his gaze to Ben. "Your job will be to act as our spotter. I'll be using the Force a great deal on the second spar. Please keep an eye on everyone around the yard to make sure nothing goes awry."

Ben nodded, and got up to go stand at the edge of the practice yard.

Boil quickly moved to go speak to their local spectators, while the rest of the _vod'e_ backed up against the wall. 

Sifo-Dyas and Doo stepped into the middle of the practice yard.

"We hardly need to warm up, do we?" Doo said with a smirk.

"Not after we spent all that time running around with Obi-Wan," Sifo-Dyas agreed. They stepped away from each other, getting just out of range of their sabre blades. "You doing Makashi or Jar'kai?"

Doo lit one of his sabres and casually swung it in a wrist warmup. The deep cobalt blade cast a lovely glow on his dark robes. 

"That would be telling," he said mock-sternly.

Sifo-Dyas lit his own sabre; the blade shone indigo. It wasn't the bright purple that Mace's was, but just a shade off of true blue. Sifo-Dyas was very fond of it. The color reminded him of the crystal that Doo had brought him years ago, an exchange for the one Sifo-Dyas had brought him from his first out of Temple mission with Master Lene. 

They both worked through a few blade spins to properly loosen up their wrists. 

Sifo-Dyas's focus narrowed to the fight about to start. Excitement raced through his veins as the anticipation built. Doo's smile turned viciously pleased and the air almost seemed charged. 

As one, they drew themselves into their starting stances. Sifo-Dyas held his blade vertically in front of him in the basic starting guard of Shii-cho. It was a deceptively simple defence. From there, Sifo-Dyas would have the strength to block whatever attack Doo started with. Doo held his blade pointed forward, with his weight poised on the balls of his feet. 

They'd been practicing together since they were children, and knew each other as well as any two fighters could. 

Sifo-Dyas could almost see the whole fight play out behind his eyes in that moment. It was less foresight and more decades of experience. 

The moment stretched as the two of them reached out with their senses.

They flew into movement at the same exact second. Doo lept forward impossibly quickly. It was only Sifo-Dyas' deep connection to the Force that warned him of the coming attack in time to deflect his blade. 

Doo was wickedly fast. He always had been, and age and experience had only improved his skills. Unlike the large, showy movements of Ataru or the wickly cruel bites of Vaapad, Doo's Makashi was direct and deadly. He fought with the point of his blade, stabbing in and guiding Sifo-Dyas' blade as much as he could. Other forms executed swings and blocks. Makashi was very nearly a brawl; the edges of their 'sabres slid together back and forth as they battled to determine who would control the fight.

Sifo-Dyas knew that he had to make space between them. Doo would try to get in close, to bind up Sifo-Dyas's blade until he was disarmed. 

So Sifo-Dyas used one of his few advantages. Niman built more kinetic energy than Makashi did. His attacks had more strength and his blocks were unmoveable. Doo's blade was faster.

It quickly became a game of Doo trying to stab him to death while Sifo-Dyas attempted to smash their blades apart. 

The speed of the fight increased as they both leaned into the Force. Doo, to enhance his physical capabilities, and Sifo-Dyas to call on his precognition to move to counter attacks a hair before Doo could even make them.

It was a losing fight, and Sifo-Dyas knew it. Doo was a better fighter, plain and simple. Sifo-Dyas also knew that he would make him work for the honor of winning. He kept the fight fast and brutal, forcing Doo to be his quickest just to keep the upper hand.

Sifo-Dyas wasn't all that surprised when Doo missed an opportunity to score a hit. They paused with their blades locked, pushing against each other until they were both nearly trembling.

Doo had a small smile on his face and his eyes brimmed with satisfaction. 

He was going to draw the fight out to make Sifo-Dyas look good, to give their audience a good show. He'd done it before and it never failed to make Sifo-Dyas' heart swell with affection. 

There was a good chance that no one else would notice. Sifo-Dyas only did because he was very intimately familiar with how Doo fought.

That certainly didn't mean that Doo would throw the fight. Neither one of them would be satisfied with that. They kept up the blinding speed of their attacks. Every time that Sifo-Dyas was able to force Doo back, Doo leapt back in. 

It wasn't pretty fighting like some of the other forms could offer. Niman was too simple for that and Makashi too precise. It was wickedly brutal instead. Sweat stung Sifo-Dyas's eyes and his body thrummed with adrenaline. 

The physicality of the fight was intoxicating simply because he was sharing the experience with Doo. His muscles burned from the effort. Force, but it was almost like sex. 

The fight ended as it began; _abruptly_. 

Sifo-Dyas overcompensated just a hair too much with a counter; Doo reposted straight into him. He turned off his blade as he sprung forward with the movement, slamming the hilt into Sifo-Dyas's chest. 

If his 'sabre had been on, Sifo-Dyas would have been impaled through the heart. 

They stood frozen in that last pose for a second, both breathing hard. Doo's hand was on Sifo-Dyas's shoulder, holding him in place, and they were close enough that Sifo-Dyas could feel Doo's breath on his face.

The silence around the yard was deafening. 

Sifo-Dyas stared into Doo's gorgeous blue eyes for a solid three heartbeats, memorizing the intimacy of the moment. 

Then he very dramatically draped the back of his hand across his forehead and leaned back in Doo's grasp.

"Dead! I am dead," Sifo-Dyas said with a loud sigh. 

Doo promptly snorted in amusement and released the hold on his shoulder. The _vod'e_ and the local spectators all burst into applause and no little bit of laughter, with Obi-Wan near screaming with excitement. Sifo-Dyas turned off his sabre and laughed.

"Water," Doo said, nodding towards where the _vod'e_ were seated. Sifo-Dyas nodded and wiped the sweat off of his forehead. Jokes aside, he wanted a drink. 

"Master Sy! Master Sy! That was so great!" Obi-Wan tried to jump up, but Waxer kept a firm hold on him. Obi-Wan didn't seem to notice.

"That was impressive," Ben said, handing him his canteen. Cody stood and handed one to Doo.

Sifo-Dyas took a grateful drink and nodded in thanks. Quite a few people had filled in on the edges of the yard. More than he'd expected. Though, maybe he shouldn't have been surprised. Mandalorians appreciated weapons work, and two Jedi Masters willing to show off their skills was impressive even to laypeople. 

" _Mand'alor_ ," Doo said, drawing Sifo-Dyas's attention around. 

Apparently, Jaster and Jango had joined them at some point during the fight. There was a woman with them in full armour, including helmet, a war hammer in a holster at her waist. She was tall and solidly built, and she stood next to Jaster instead of slightly behind him. Someone who he respected and considered a peer, then. A second warrior in full _beskar'gam_ stood just behind the first and to her left. That warrior sent a prickle along his skin. Something about her was important, but he wasn't sure quite what it was. He couldn't See it just yet. 

"Master Dooku," Jaster said, nodding to them in greeting. "Master Sifo-Dyas, may I introduce Ardanna Byzkan, our Armourer, and Captain M'yare Sina of the City Guard."

Sifo-Dyas bowed to her. "It is a pleasure."

She nodded to him, but didn't say anything.

"I understand there will be a second spar?" Jaster asked.

Doo nodded. "Master Sifo-Dyas very rightly pointed out that skill with 'sabres is not the only deciding factor of a fight, but Obi-Wan wanted to see our bladework. So our first spar was just for lightsabres. The second will be open to our other abilities as well."

"You are very skilled," Adranna said. She had a rich voice, and her appreciation was evident. That appreciation very quickly turned to disapproval. "Though you still do not protect yourselves adequately."

Sifo-Dyas raised an eyebrow.

Ben coughed, probably to cover up a laugh. "Ardanna is very adamant that everyone wear armour, and has suggested that Master Dooku do the same."

"A Jedi, in armour?" Sifo-Dyas blinked, and then focused on Ben. 

He was in a full suit of _beskar_ , though it looked different than what the _vod'e_ sported. Layered over it was an armourweave surcoat and cloak. Clearly the outfit was designed for flexibility. 

"I suppose I can see the logic, though..." Sifo-Dyas lost his trail of thought as images flashed through his mind. 

The Force _shuddered_ around him.

The world faded away.

He saw Jedi with pieces of white armour layered over their robes. Smoke and blaster fire. A sea of troops behind them. Then the swirl of black armourweave, thick and comforting and intimidating all at the same time.

He blinked it away. The Force quieted, and the world rushed back to him.

As visions went, it was a minor one. Barely enough to distract him. It was more than enough to make everyone stare at him, though. He gave them all a practiced smile.

"Yes, Jedi in armour. I could see that," he said blandly. 

Doo stiffened at his wording and Ben and the _vod'e_ looked sharply at him. Obi-Wan looked worried. Sifo-Dyas gave him a wink, and he broke out into giggles.

"So you are not opposed to wearing armour?" Ardanna asked. If she'd caught the strangeness of his response then she didn't show it.

"A complicated question for a Jedi," Sifo-Dyas answered. He knew in his bones that one day he would have no choice. _How_ or _why_ that would happen, he had no idea. 

"How would you answer it?" she asked. A direct woman. Sifo-Dyas appreciated that. He'd take blunt questions over twisting manipulations any day.

"We are what the Force needs us to be, and right now we are peacekeepers," he said.

"Implying that you may be something else at some other point in time." 

Sifo-Dyas gave her a very mildly chiding look. "Who can say, Armourer? After all, the future is always in motion." Before she could counter that, he asked, "What of you? You've offered to supply armour to Master Dooku and Master Plo. That is very generous of you."

"It is," Ardanna agreed haughtily, though with a touch of humor to her voice. 

Sifo-Dyas let out a quick laugh. He could tell that she was not offended; her Force signature was proud but also amused. 

He liked her.

Clearly, the _vod'e_ did too, because they were outright grinning, as were Jaster and Jango.

Sifo-Dyas set his canteen down and proceeded to retie his topknot. He wanted his hair out of the way for this next fight.

"Master Sifo-Dyas, if you have the time, I would be very interested in training with you before you leave," Ben said. "I've never seen anyone use the Force quite like that in a fight."

Jaster frowned at them. "I thought you said that you weren't doing that for the first spar."

Doo shook his head. "We only used passive applications. Increasing our speed and stamina, or in Master Sifo-Dyas' case, predicting my moves. It's not the same as what we will do for our second spar."

"What I did just now was no different than what every knight is trained to do," Sifo-Dyas told Ben. "Put yourself in touch with the Force. Let it guide you. Trust in it and in yourself."

"This," Ben gestured back towards the training yard behind them, "was far more than just trusting in the Force."

"Was it?" Sifo-Dyas asked patiently.

Ben narrowed his eyes, clearly recognizing that his tone implied that the question itself was a lesson. 

Before he could open his mouth to answer, Doo held up a hand to forestall him. 

"Philosophy of the Force can wait until later," he said. Then he raised an eyebrow to Sifo-Dyas. "If you truly wish to discuss the technique in detail, perhaps we can do that tomorrow afternoon during training while I run young Obi-Wan through his drills."

Obi-Wan bounced with excitement again, nearly causing Waxer to fall over. 

"Hooray! Are you gonna teach me Ma-ka-shi? Do we get to use two 'sabres? Master Mace said I couldn't learn Vaa-pad yet, but maybe someday," Obi-Wan babbled happily. 

"We'll start with Shii-cho," Doo said dryly. "It is the foundation for all other forms, so it is critical that you learn it well."

By that time, Sifo-Dyas had finished off retying his hair. "You ready for round two?" he asked before the conversation could devolve further. 

His blood was still up from the first spar, and he wanted to keep it going. From the eager look in Doo's eyes, he was in full agreement. 

"After you, Master Sifo-Dyas," Doo said with a courtly bow.

"Why thank you, Master Dooku." Sifo-Dyas returned the gesture with some amusement. 

As he walked out onto the training yard, he let himself sink into the Force. With every step he took note of his environment around him. The dirt and dust on the ground. The chairs and training equipment stored off along the walls. Every rock and bit of trash, every stray water canteen and discarded clothing item. He felt the firmness of the earth under him and breathed in the trace of moisture in the air. 

Everything was connected in the Force. 

All he had to do was reach out and touch it.

By the time he and Doo were squared off again in the middle of the training yard, Sifo-Dyas was in the proper frame of mind. They both waited as their audience again stepped back as far as they could and Ben got into place at the edge of the yard. 

"Ben," Sifo-Dyas said. "I will try to keep everything within the confines of the yard," he gestured to the line painted onto the ground that circled the perimeter of the training space, "though I may take things from outside this area. No harm should come to anyone watching, but if you would be mindful for me, as a double check, I would appreciate it."

It was worth asking him again, if only to vocally remind those watching that this would be dangerous and that they should _stay the kriff away_.

"Of course, Master Sifo-Dyas," Ben said with a small bow. 

Sifo-Dyas locked eyes with Doo and ignited his sabre. Doo followed suit, this time pulling both of his blades.

A smart move. Makashi was superior for lightsabre duels, but this fight would be at least half chaotic disaster and they both knew it. Jar'kai would serve Doo much better in this round.

Sifo-Dyas sank down into a low stance with his weight almost entirely on his back foot. He held his blade vertical and to his side. His opening gambit wouldn't be defense. 

Doo settled himself until he was nearly in a crouch, with one blade held in front of him and the other to his side and slightly behind. He was going to run in swinging. Speed and skill were his allies. This would be another game of keep-away, but this time Sifo-Dyas had a much wider toolset to draw on.

They waited, just as they had with the first fight. Every second that passed increased Sifo-Dyas's awareness of what was around him. Thoughts fled his mind completely. 

He could feel everything and yet the only thing that truly registered was Doo in front of him.

 _There is no chaos, there is harmony_.

This time when Doo exploded into movement, Sifo-Dyas reached out with the Force at the exact same moment. All it took was the barest amount of pressure, just a touch of telekinesis. 

He held Doo's foot down, and watched him stumble.

In the same breath, he lunged forward, swinging up with his lightsabre. The move was designed to cut a man in half, from the bottom up. Doo barely managed to shift out of the way.

Then the fight was on.

Doo was a terrifying whirlwind of light and burning. And fast, so kriffing fast. He was an aggressive fighter, pressing the attack at every opportunity.

This was expected. Sifo-Dyas allowed it, moving back and blocking with every one of Doo's advances. He let the Force gather with every swing of his sabre, lifting up little bits of dust and dirt as they fought. 

Soon enough, each block and parry carried with it a stinging cloud. One that Sifo-Dyas aimed right at Doo's face. At first it was negligible. Soon enough, Doo was squinting and flinching. 

Almost time.

 _Almost_.

Sifo-Dyas kept it up until Doo just closed his eyes in sheer self defense, trusting in the Force to guide his movements. At which point, Sifo-Dyas leapt straight up in the air and summoned everything in range. 

Rocks, chairs, boxes, loose armour, _everything_ on that half of the training yard that was unattached enough for Sifo-Dyas to take hold of, lifted up off the ground and then was sucked straight in towards Doo.

Sifo-Dyas held his leap as long as he could, slowing his ascent and descent until he was nearly moving in slow motion. It would have been easy to knock him out of the sky.

If Doo had had the chance to do so. But he was far too busy cutting his way out of the tornado of shrapnel that Sifo-Dyas had sent spinning around him. 

Eventually, Doo realized that he had to actually _move_. He dashed to the side, cutting his way through a flying chair to do it.

Sifo-Dyas, and almost everything he was holding in the Force, landed at the same time. He ran straight towards Doo's back, trailing several small items behind him as he went. Canteens, he thought. 

Doo blocked his 'sabre hit, and the first canteen, but the second and third ones scored light hits to his side. He didn't even notice the damage. He was already back on the offense, spinning faster than Sifo-Dyas could blink. 

The two danced back and forth, with Doo slashing and stabbing and Sifo-Dyas blocking at attacking at the same time with both his blade and whatever was closest. 

When Doo was starting to gain the upper hand, Sifo-Dyas reached _down_ with the Force, and then _lifted_ as hard as he could. The ground itself warped upwards right under where Doo was about to step. Again, Doo was flung off balance and again Sifo-Dyas very nearly scored a killing blow. 

The cost of that particular move was too much to manage long term, so Sifo-Dyas dropped it as soon as the moment passed. The ensuing shuddering of the earth earned him another stumble to take advantage of, though Doo didn't let him actually get a hit in. 

That was fine. Sifo-Dyas had other ideas. Now that Doo was scrambling for his balance, Sifo-Dyas used more of those little Force shoves, focusing on hitting the key stability areas of the body; hips, elbows, neck. Just little pushes. Enough to keep Doo on the defensive and leave openings for Sifo-Dyas's lightsabre. 

If he spent a little extra effort to make those shoves linger for a second longer, like a caress over the skin, well… that was between him and Doo. 

Doo's face was getting redder and redder, and his Force presence became agitated. Sifo-Dyas grinned and pressed the attack. 

He knew that Doo wouldn't let him do this for long. 

Sure enough, Doo actually paused his blade work long enough to send some of the debris flying towards Sifo-Dyas. It was a powerful shove. Doo might be most skilled at lightsabre forms but that didn't mean that he was ungifted with his connection to the Force. 

Sifo-Dyas didn't bother to try and stop it. Instead, he side-stepped it. As he moved, he gathered up that energy, all that power that Doo had just pushed at him, and strengthened it with his own will. He grabbed ahold of that momentum and _spun_ , taking control of the Force shove and every bit of debris that was carried with it.

He held on and built more power and more kinetic energy as he turned, and then _flung it_ right back into Doo's face. What had started as a substantial hit turned into an avalanche. 

Over the rush of the sound of his heart pounding in his ears and the thrum of the Force in his bones, Sifo-Dyas just barely heard Doo say, "Oh _kark_ ," as he tried to dodge. 

It wasn't enough. He missed the bulk of the debris, but was still bowled over by the surge in the Force. 

He landed on his feet, though one of his 'sabres was knocked out of his hand.

They both reached for it at the same time, both pulling with the Force. Sifo-Dyas took a step forward and _called_ to it. His muscles burned with the effort it took to hold his body so rigid. Doo's face was tight with effort and his teeth were bared in a slight snarl. Both of them stood with a hand held out, ready to grab the hilt once it was in range.

Sifo-Dyas had more power in the Force, but Doo's 'sabre crystal sang for its partner's hand. The ‘sabre floated in midair unable to move closer to either of them but nearly vibrating with the opposing forces leveled against it.

Stalemate. 

They both dropped the effort at the same time. Sifo-Dyas dashed forward and searched around the yard with his mind. He needed to find just the right thing…

Doo met him with ferocity. The Force sped his steps, letting him dance into and then back out of Sifo-Dyas' range before Sifo-Dyas could even try to get a hit in. That didn't matter. The 'sabre fight was the distraction. 

Doo was good. _Force_ , he was good. 

It took all Sifo-Dyas had to keep up with him and keep him occupied. He threw more dust with each swing, and tripped and pushed and nudged Doo as much as he dared. It was just barely enough to keep the fight going; Doo was doing him no favors now. 

Finally, _finally_ , Sifo-Dyas found what he was looking for scattered around the field. 

He turned his attacks and blocks into spinning, sweeping things, baiting Doo as he moved. It was another misdirection. While Doo pressed the attack, Sifo-Dyas spread out his presence in the Force and gathered up his latest attack.

Every drop, every scrap of water that he could find. It was enough. It would be enough, especially with all the canteens.

He drew back and twisted again, spinning into another Force attack. By now, Doo had gotten used to blocking whatever Sifo-Dyas threw at him. So of course he brought his 'sabre up to slice through the expected onslaught. 

Unfortunately for him, it wasn't a solid object that Sifo-Dyas threw at him. It was a good couple buckets full of water. All landing straight on his blade.

The 'sabre sputtered and shorted as it instantly turned that water into boiling vapor. It was enough to send him reeling, though the blade itself didn't turn off.

In less than a heartbeat, Sifo-Dyas was on him, with his lightsabre at Doo's throat. 

They stood there panting, both of them teetering between exhaustion and adrenaline rush. Doo's eyes were dark and hungry.

 _Kriff_ , why did they have to be in a public place?

The moment shattered when the audience around them started cheering.

Sifo-Dyas laughed breathlessly and stepped back, just as Doo straightened and called his second 'sabre to him. The both stepped back and bowed to each other. That moment had lasted a second longer than it should have; neither one of them had wanted to break that connection.

If they'd been at the Temple, they both would have hastily said their goodbyes to whoever was watching and then made their way back to the closest suite in order to very properly rip each other's clothes off. 

That was very sadly not an option here. They both knew it.

The brief moment shared in that salute was all they would get. For the moment, anyways. By the time they were both standing upright again, the intensity between them was packed away, safe behind the controlled mask of a Jedi Master. 

Sifo-Dyas finally took a look around. The training yard was a blessed mess.

Doo gave him a dry look and shook his head in faux resignation. "My dear High Councilor, and you say the initiates leave disasters wherever they go." He made a _tisk-tisk_ sound. 

He did have a point. Sifo-Dyas huffed out a laugh in between heavy breaths, and then he nodded towards the wall where the _Mand'alor_ and his family were standing. The gathered Mandalorians had stopped cheering and instead dove straight into chattering loudly amongst themselves. 

"Any casualties?" Sifo-Dyas asked Ben as soon as they were in range.

Ben shook his head. "Aside from the excess seating? No."

"Master Sy, Master Sy! That was _so great!!_ " Obi-Wan wriggled right out of Waxer's hold and raced over to him, ending the dash with a Force leap. 

"Ooph," Sifo-Dyas said, grabbing a hold of him. "Force, young one, are you trying to take me out?"

Obi-Wan giggled madly. "Master Sy, nooo, I can't--"

"Oh, I think you almost did," Sifo-Dyas insisted. He weaved under Obi-Wan's negligible weight as if the little one would topple him at any moment. 

Obi-Wan laughed and laughed and laughed. He shone so brightly in the Force; his joy was radiant. Sifo-Dyas couldn't help but laugh, too.

Doo was chuckling to himself as well, though he was clearly laughing _at_ Sifo-Dyas rather than anything else. Sifo-Dyas just grinned at him. If they'd been alone he would have dared a wink.

Obi-Wan squirmed as he laughed, crawling around until he was on Sifo-Dyas' back, with his arms wrapped around Sifo-Dyas' neck to hold himself up. 

"Ugh, enough, enough little one," Sifo-Dyas said, shifting Obi-Wan's weight so it was more comfortably distributed. "Stay still and let me talk to the _Mand'alor_."

Jaster was clearly amused. That was a relief. There was also a hint of something else in his presence in the Force, something that was echoed by the other Mandalorians present. They were all keenly interested in a way that Sifo-Dyas wasn’t used to. It went beyond simple appreciation for skilled fighting. 

He was a little too distracted by Obi-Wan on his back and Doo at his side to properly tease out what he was feeling in the Force. Since it didn’t feel _bad_ , Sifo-Dyas set his musing about that reaction aside and focused on the conversation at hand.

"Excellent fight, _jetiise_ ," The _Mand’alor_ said with a nod to them both.

"As soon as I can set down my sentient backpack, I'll help clean up," Sifo-Dyas said. "My apologies for the mess."

"Honestly? It was worth it," Jaster said with an appreciative look at the yard. "Nothing got ruined that can't easily and cheaply be replaced, and no one got hurt. Put on a good show, too. That's a win as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you, _Mand'alor_ ," Sifo-Dyas said with a bow. That just made Obi-Wan start giggling all over again as he wobbled around on Sifo-Dyas' back. 

That feeling from the Mandalorians spiked and then swirled away.

"I'll take care of it," Doo said, already turning to walk away. "Consider it your boon for winning."

Sifo-Dyas did _not_ watch him go. No matter how much he wanted to. _Force_ , Doo was distracting.

He reminded himself very sternly that they would have all night together. 

The rest of them lingered until Doo was done, and then they headed to Ben's rooms for their evening meal. Sifo-Dyas resigned himself to the inevitable post-fight questions and strategizing that all lifetime fighters liked to do after watching a good spar. It was pleasant enough to pass the time.

When Doo excused himself to go get cleaned up for dinner, Sifo-Dyas almost cursed him. He damn well knew what Doo would be doing in the ‘fresher without him. Most likely the same thing Sifo-Dyas would be doing when it was his turn to clean up and Doo's turn to watch Obi-Wan. 

He swore to himself that the moment Obi-Wan had gone to sleep, he and Doo were going to continue their conversation. He would let Doo get a chance to pay him back for all those things being tossed at him, and maybe get a little attention on that bruise over his heart that Doo's finishing blow from the first spar had left. No doubt they both had some aches and pains that needed to be tended to.

It was a damn good thing that Sifo-Dyas was accustomed to keeping himself composed and shielded while under the watchful eyes of the High Council, because otherwise he didn't think he would have made it through the evening.

Still worth it.

\--

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Getting through dinner and then waiting for Obi-Wan to drop off to sleep tested Yan's patience. 

Sy had been so damn gorgeous during their spar, infuriating and alluring in equal measure. It was a rare thing for him to let go like that during training and allow himself to use so many of his Force abilities. Those who kept the Temple salles in good shape didn't care for collateral damage. Yan was thrilled that he'd been able to coax him into it, and doubly grateful that Jaster didn't mind the debris. 

Yan usually preferred 'sabre work, but it was good for both of them to spar against someone with such a vastly differing style to their own. Sparring like that with Sy was an additional bonus.

Even if Sy did _tease the kriff_ out of him while fighting. All those little touches. Force, it was unfair. 

Though he supposed that he was lucky that Sy hadn't decided to touch more intimate places. 

Yan got his revenge the moment they determined that Obi-Wan was well and truly deeply asleep. He'd kept Sy delirious with pleasure for a very long time, much to their mutual satisfaction. 

When their ardour was finally spent and each bruise and scrape from the spar kissed and Force healed, it was very late indeed. 

Despite their energetic day, sleep was slow in finding them. Not that Yan minded. He had Sy in his arms, warm, pressed up against him with his head tucked under Yan's chin. 

"Today was fun," Sy mumbled quietly.

Yan hummed in agreement and kissed the crown of Sy's head. 

"Gonna be rumors, though." Sy didn't sound terribly distressed by it. Yan wasn't, either.

"There are always rumors, my dear," Yan said with some resignation. 

He could have admonished Sy for being so free with his Force touches during the spar, but he couldn't bring himself to. They'd both enjoyed it and, combined with the attacks as they were, the flirting wouldn't have been sensed by anyone but them. It was safe. 

"The _vod'e_ kept eyeing us," Sy said.

"They do that," Yan agreed. He hummed as he idly ran a hand down Sy's side. "They did seem to be more speculative this evening, though."

"Mhmm. They're planning something." Sy nuzzled closer and brushed his lips across Yan's chest. 

"Harmless scheming," Yan said dismissively. "They are aware that we aren't a threat. Whatever they come up with won't be damaging."

Sy snorted. "Not physically. I'm not sure our dignity will survive."

Yan shook his head and sighed.

"You're thinking like they are Jedi, who would gossip and judge and cause us all manner of difficulty. They are _soldiers_." Sy prodded at Yan's ribs to emphasise his point. "They are going to gossip and prank us. Or maybe just try to see just how deep our relationship goes."

That last bit was the trickier part. 

Yan considered the problem. 

"Perhaps some diversionary tactics are required, then?"

"Oh?" Sy said as he shifted to look up at Yan's face.

A wicked smirk tugged at Yan's lips. "Have you noticed how close Ben and Cody are?" he asked.

Sy narrowed his eyes. "Close. Yes, that's a way to say it."

"They're pining," Yan said flatly. Then he rolled his eyes dismissively. "Or they were in their previous time, and some of that has carried over."

There it was. That light in Sy's eyes that indicated he'd caught on to an idea that was both wonderful and terrible. 

"A little counter-meddling likely wouldn't go amiss," Sy said innocently.

Yan had to laugh. 

In truth, he felt a bit bad for Ben. For all that the little general wasn't officially in the Order, he clearly took the Jedi Code very seriously. 

One could argue that Yan and Sy had broken it with how deeply they cared for each other. That argument was hypocrisy in Yan's opinion. Many Jedi encouraged such things as training bonds and lineage connections, compassion and empathy, and simultaneously attempted to admonish their knights for becoming _too_ close to those they cared about.

Yan believed that there was a finer nuance involved. True love was selfless. Thus when higher duty called, a Jedi could not think only of their own happiness, or even just the happiness of their beloved. They had to dedicate themselves to the higher good, and to the will of the Force. Attachment was only damaging when it turned possessive and when it drowned out reason and responsibility. 

Master Yoda disagreed. He, and thus most of the High Council and the Order at large, felt that all attachment was a direct path straight to the Dark Side. The risks were too great, the temptation too strong. 

Ben had implied that he was part of Yoda's lineage -- a statement that had sent warning bells ringing in Yan's mind -- which meant that he'd heard more than his fair dose of the little troll's brand of philosophy. From everything that Yan had seen, he suspected that Ben tended towards self-sacrifice. Ben and Cody had personal history together as well; no doubt that would factor into the outcome as well. 

Even though the younglings were not in the Order and no longer in whatever situation they'd come from, the time and circumstances that they'd come from would play a role. Yan wondered if they hoped to get back to their own time. It seemed unlikely that they would slip through time again. If they were going to, why hadn't it happened yet?

Ultimately, perhaps the best thing that Yan could do was just point out alternatives and opportunities to them.

"Ben will be a difficult one to influence," Yan said quietly. "No matter his personal feelings, if he does not come to terms with the morality of his wants then he will never pursue them."

He could feel Sy thinking. 

"I think you are right," he said finally. "Whatever Ben and Cody decide to do, they won't let anyone else push them into it. Regardless, they have plenty of time to figure it out, and we can still give the _vod'e_ ideas."

"It's only fair, after all," Yan said with dry humor. 

Sy chuckled. He did have such a devious mind. It was one of the many things that Yan liked about him. 

"You have suggestions?" Yan asked.

"Mm. We should play our normal game."

Which meant that they should play up their own natural social tendencies to cover up their private life. People saw only what they wanted to see. The two of them could hint all they wanted while pretending to be oblivious at the same time.

The results were usually vastly amusing. 

Yan hummed in agreement. "I might bring up pair bonding."

Granted, that might be excessive for Ben and Cody considering that they were probably already sporting Force bonds with each other as well as the rest of their little group. 

For a moment, Yan mourned the fact that he and Sy were unable to have such a connection. The High Council certainly wouldn't have approved. 

"Good idea," Sy said. The words came out in a tired mumble. He'd gone even more boneless in Yan's arms and his breathing started to slow down.

Yan just shifted minutely, making them both more comfortable, and let his own eyes drift closed.

\--


	37. Chapter 37

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

As he stripped his armour back off, the process now almost as familiar to him as removing his robes for sleep had once been, Ben prepared himself to spend the next several hours in a tangle of _vod'e_. That was becoming a refuge of warmth and caring he looked forward to retreating to at the end of each rotation. It was a balm that helped ease the stress of trying to advise his _buir_ on matters utterly unfamiliar to him because they'd never happened in his timeline -- and all of the many other little worries he couldn't seem to keep away.

He could feel the tension in his shoulders travelling up to the base of his skull, one of the warning signs that he needed to find time to meditate on all of the tasks he was juggling.

The issues were many: electing a governor for Concordia -- the next step forward towards strengthening his _buir_ 's position; training Wooley and the rest of his _vod'e_ in meditation and shielding and everything else they needed to know; keeping an eye on his younger self to keep him out of trouble; keeping an eye on Masters Dooku and Sifo-Dyas to keep _them_ out of trouble; coordinating with Ardanna to work out the best way to space out her lessons for Wooley and his own; and all the other little things that seemed to crowd his mind and clamour for his attention. His own memories of being a crèchling, his nagging worry that someday his _vod'e_ would realise that he really didn't measure up to this younger better version of himself, his longing to let himself believe they truly wanted him join them, and his knowledge that that was impossible.

After all the excitement of the last few days, the opportunity to meditate over the selection of kyber crystals that Master Dooku had brought with him should've let him relax and let go of some of his persistent worries. It should've been a chance to recenter himself and just be while he worked out which of the offered crystals fit him best -- if, indeed, any of them fit him at all. 

That wasn't how things had turned out.

Because of course it wasn't. Ben had to shake his head at the memory.

After the late meal, he, Master Sifo-Dyas, and Master Dooku had settled themselves comfortably in a corner of the Master Dooku's sitting room, and the _vod'e_ had entertained Obi-Wan at a comfortable distance to their little circle. They'd carefully picked a spot where Master Sifo-Dyas could watch them as well as Ben and Master Dooku, in deference to the Councilor's protectiveness towards Obi-Wan. It hadn't taken more than a few minutes for Obi-Wan to get curious, though, and he'd dragged Wooley over to watch with him. Ostensibly because he could feel Ben doing something _really interesting_ in the Force, and wanted his _vod_ to have a better look too.

Ben had known better; Obi-Wan had simply wanted to 'see' it better for himself than he could have, if he'd simply watched through the network.

The move had gotten Wooley pointed and curious glances from both Masters. Luckily, that _vod_ had a fairly good sabacc face, and managed not to say anything about his own Force sensitivity. Ben suspected that effort was wasted, given Obi-Wan's way of simply blurting out everything he knew that he wanted to share. The youngling had no filter yet, which meant Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku both likely knew about it already.

Their presences nearby hadn't jolted him out of his meditation, but it had been a rather closer thing than he wanted to admit out loud. It was almost reflexive, by this point, for him to bring himself back out of a meditation if one of his _vod'e_ entered the room he was in or approached him with even the vaguest feeling of reluctance. Throughout the length of their acquaintance their presence under such circumstances had always either meant 'danger, we have to move, General' or 'sorry to disturb you, but there's an issue I need to speak to you about, sir'.

That _was_ gradually changing, now, it had to be said, but even so the ingrained habits and expectations of over a year and a half were difficult to uproot at a moment's notice.

And then Obi-Wan had started asking Master Dooku about what was happening, all but climbing into the master's lap in the process and dragging Wooley along until the _vod_ had seated himself next to them.

Ben had heard Master Sifo-Dyas' snickering and felt Wooley's strong amusement in the network, as Master Dooku had floundered for a few seconds at the mere fact that Obi-Wan wanted to be that close to him. The temptation to let himself break the meditation to stare in disbelief had been strong.

And then, once Obi-Wan had learned what was actually going on, what he was sensing from Ben, he'd simply claimed a crystal for himself. Reached out with the Force to pull it out of Ben's grip and into his hand.

 _This one,_ he'd declared triumphantly. _It's **perfect** and it sings to me!_

Master Dooku, audibly a little unsure what to think of that, had simply congratulated him. _This is quite unexpected,_ had been about the extent to which he'd been willing to comment on the matter to Ben, later, once he'd finally chosen a crystal for himself. _I had not thought that I would end up supplying_ both _of you with a kyber crystal._

Wooley had given the master a shrug and a wry half-smile. _Our General seems to make a habit of defying everyone's expectations,_ he'd said, teasing lightly, and then Obi-Wan had started asking a thousand and one questions about what happened next and when he would get to build his lightsabre.

"General?" Waxer was asking for his attention, and most of the _vod'e_ were arranged around the lieutenant, looking at him expectantly. Only Cody was missing, cleaning himself up in the 'fresher.

"Yes, Waxer?" Ben turned to face his _vod_ , refocusing his attention on the here-and-now as he set the memory aside to continue mulling over later. "What is it?"

"Well, we were wondering what you could tell us about that stuff the Cadet said about _Vod'e_ wielding lightsabres," he said, a little hesitantly. "Master Sifo-Dyas said that was likely to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, but if you're going to apprentice and train Wooley, then it has to be something that was in motion long before the Cadet dreamt it, doesn't it?"

Caught off guard, Ben just stared at Waxer for a moment, then cleared his throat. "I know about as much as you do, on that particular topic. Obi-Wan hasn't told me anything about whatever it was he saw. But you raise a good point." 

"So you think it could be something further in the future?" Wooley asked, sounding almost awed. "Some other _vod_ you trained?"

"That's possible," Ben conceded, "but it may also be someone one of _you_ trained, or, as Master Sifo-Dyas pointed out, it may never come to pass at all."

It had taken almost three weeks for the shock of the knowledge that there would be a _Vod_ training to become a _jetii_ to wear off of his men. It had taken that long because the campaign against the Death Watch had taken priority, but Ben knew that they'd had to grapple with it. Their ingrained reverence for Force users had always been coloured by the sure knowledge that none of them would ever be able to so much as dream about aspiring to that. In their own minds, they were interchangeable, _disposable,_ and Jedi were the opposite. They treated all Jedi with respect -- even those they actively disliked -- and those they did like with the kind of adoration Ben had initially felt was borderline inappropriate. So the mere idea that a _Vod_ might be able to use the Force... that had sent a slow-moving shockwave through their network, the likes of which Ben suspected he would never see or sense again. The very foundation of their identity had changed, from one moment to the next, and the consequences of that would take time to come clear.

"Or it may be that, in allowing Obi-Wan to encourage myself and Master Dooku to train you, we ensure that it comes to pass," Ben added with a shrug. "It is impossible to know which events and choices are those that will bring a vision into being or disrupt it entirely. Master Yoda is fond of reminding us of that. _Always in motion, the future is_. Keep that in mind, when Obi-Wan speaks of his dreams, of his visions. They are no different from my own, or Master Sifo-Dyas' in that respect. The intensity of the visions may vary, but not the basic laws of the universe."

The chime of their door interrupted the discussion, and all of the _vod'e_ exchanged looks. 

"I'll get it," Helix offered, still in most of his armour because he'd been so focused on the conversation that he'd stopped in his tracks, without removing any of it besides his bucket.

The rest of them stayed where they were, poised, ready to put their armour back on if it was needful, and waited for Helix to either ask for their presence or sound the all clear.

And then, for the second time in the last two nights, Obi-Wan came barrelling at them. This time, he was asking if he could spend the night, rather than simply slipping in.

"Master Sy says I hav'ta get you to say yes, if I wan'ta stay with you for the night, _vod'e_ ," he said, attaching himself to Waxer and looking pleadingly up at the _Vod_.

Ben felt the way Waxer immediately folded. " _Vod'e_?" the lieutenant looked around the room. "I'm alright with it. Should we let him stay?"

Helix frowned for a moment, thinking it over, then shrugged. "There are studies that say it's better for little ones to learn to sleep on their own, and there are studies that say the opposite," he said, making Obi-Wan frown as he tried to decipher the words.

Boil snorted. "You already know my answer to your question, _riduur_. Which side of that discussion do you fall on, Helix?"

The medic sighed. "Both sides have very valid arguments," he said evasively, avoiding taking sides and making Ben smile to see the deft way he'd done it, then added, "but I see no immediate issue in letting the Cadet stay."

With each affirmative answer that was voiced, Obi-Wan's posture straightened and he smiled wider. Ben couldn't help the slight, rueful, smile that tugged at his own lips in response. He felt much the same way whenever his _vod'e_ said such things to him.

"The Cadet's not going to bother us," Crys pointed out, glancing over as Cody came back into the room and moved to join them, standing beside Ben as he always did. "We didn't even realise he was here until morning, last time. Let him stay."

Longshot nodded. "I'm fine with it."

Wooley reached down to tousle the Cadet's hair. "Waxer said you had a sad dream last time you came to stay with us, Cadet," he asked quietly, not voicing his own acceptance just yet, though Ben could feel it in the network. "Does that happen a lot?"

Obi-Wan nodded silently, then took a deep breath, "Yeah, but sometimes the dreams are nice. I like the nice dreams."

Ben had to wince. If the youngling was dreaming about him, about his past and his experiences, that was doubtless causing him a lot of stress. It was no surprise he'd sought out the _vod'e_ for comfort, if that was the case.

Wooley nodded like he understood. "Does it help to be here with us?"

"Yeah! Waxer promised that all of you would help keep the sad dreams away, and he was right," Obi-Wan replied promptly, making Ben turn to look at Waxer in surprise.

The rest of the _vod'e_ moved in closer and Waxer went down on one knee to pull Obi-Wan into his arms. "That's what _vod'e_ do, Cadet," Boil said, his tone almost solemn. " _Aliit ori'shya tal'din_. We take care of our own, and that includes you and the General." 

"I've heard _Vod'e_ say that before in my dreams," Obi-Wan whispered as his eyes went big and round, awe and startlement in his expression that mirrored what Ben was feeling right then. 

"I'll bet you have," Wooley responded. "I say we let him stay."

Obi-Wan turned to him and Cody, knowing as well as they did that unless the two of them agreed as well, Master Sifo-Dyas might say he had to sleep in his own bed.

Ben hesitated, and watched Obi-Wan's eyes get bigger, pleading. There was a whisper of a touch against his shields, and Obi-Wan tried to project to him just how reassuring his presence was. It was a sensation that very nearly jerked tears to his eyes. The trust and unconditional acceptance of who and what he was. The raw belief that he could and would protect Obi-Wan, and help keep the visions from hurting him. The secure knowledge that he was _good_ and _Light_ despite the many injuries and scars he'd taken over the course of his dealings with the darkness in the galaxy at large.

Taking a shuddering breath, Ben nodded. "Alright, I suppose it can't hurt."

Cody gave him a knowing look. "I see no real issue."

Obi-Wan's expression turned into a blinding grin and he turned the expression on Waxer. "You did it, _vod_! You got them to say yes!"

Cody gave the _vod_ an expressive look that roughly translated as 'really?'. "Why am I not surprised," he said dryly.

Waxer shrugged, and turned to Helix. "What do you think, _vod_ ," he asked, "should we put Master Sifo-Dyas in one of the spare bedrooms, this time?"

Helix shrugged back. "He seemed fine staying on the sofa last time," their medic commented.

"Why don't we let him decide," Cody suggested, and Helix nodded.

"I'll handle it, Commander. You lot get settled," his chief medical officer suggested. "I'll be back in a tick."

The _vod'e_ nodded back, and finished stripping off their armour as Obi-Wan chattered happily at Waxer, who just smiled at him indulgently and made affirmative noises now and then. Before he could do more than put his hands on the buckle of his belt, Cody was standing in front of him and tentatively reaching out.

Without a word, Ben removed the belt, and held Cody's eyes, knowing his Commander wanted to be sure whatever he was going to do was welcome.

Cody's hands went to the surcoat Ben was enjoying so, and his Commander carefully lifted it off his shoulders, letting him slip out of it and leave it in Cody's grip. The simple act of care filled Ben’s heart until he felt his chest might burst with it. While Cody dealt with that and the others entertained the little one, Ben efficiently stripped off the plates of his armour and the underlayer.

Cody was there the moment he was through, waiting. Most of the other _vod'e_ were watching them knowingly, and Ben had to work to shrug off the knowledge that they all fully expected him to court Cody properly someday.

The thought made him want to bite at his lip. He wanted that. He did. With a fervour that he wouldn't have thought himself capable of, a few short years ago. But he _couldn't_. He couldn't allow himself to follow through. There were all too many very good reasons not to, ranging from their respective positions in the GAR to the fact that the Republic didn't even consider the troopers _people_ and the impact that such a relationship would have not only on their reputations, were they to get found out, but also on their very existences. Cody would likely be summarily shipped off for whatever horrifying reconditioning the Kaminoans practiced, and he himself... Ben swallowed hard, and closed his eyes as he shoved that idea back into its box.

Best not to think about such things, given the company he was in right then.

"General?" Boil prompted him. "You alright?"

Obi-Wan pulled away from Waxer and ran across the room to glue himself to Ben, wrapping little arms around him and holding on tight. "I dunno what it was, but I won't let it happen," he declared. "It made you too sad and scared."

"Hear, hear," Wooley said, and Ben found himself at the center of a group hug that threatened to leave him short of breath. "We won't either."

 _Force_ , but he didn't deserve them.

Nor they him.

 _Nu draar,_ Helix snapped in the network, clearly not liking whatever Ben must've allowed to leak past his shields. _We're not letting you go._

And then Ben was all but drowning in a flood of welcome and belonging. _You're one of ours, and we want you here,_ they all told him, in one layered voice. Seven _Vod'e_ all fully in agreement.

Obi-Wan added his own insistent agreement on top, once he realised what they were doing, and Ben had to stifle a sob as he reached back, offering relief and gratitude and his own sense of unworthiness. 

Crys snorted. "General, if _you're_ not worthy," he said simply, " _no one is_."

It took him a few more breaths to get himself under control and his shields back in place properly. "I'm not sure I agree, Crys."

Before any of the _vod'e_ could respond to that, the door to their sleeping quarters opened, and Helix stepped back through. "I thought I told you _di'kut'e_ to get comfortable on the bed," he said, a note of exasperation in his voice, "not to make the network go crazy and leave me fighting to keep my composure."

Longshot scoffed. "It was pretty unavoidable," he answered. "What's the sitrep? Do we have a guest?"

"I had to convince him to take the spare bedroom," Helix told them, "and he offered to keep watch on the sofa again, like he did last time."

"That's hardly necessary," Ben protested.

"That's what I told him, General. We have some additional instructions, too. If the Cadet has a very strong vision or becomes severely distressed, we're to bring him out to Master Sifo-Dyas and not worry about waking him." Helix started stripping off his own armour as he spoke.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Sometimes the dreams are _scary_ , or make my head hurt," he admitted.

"Alright," Wooley suggested, "come on, Cadet, let's get comfortable, like Helix said."

Obi-Wan's eyes went a little wider and he looked up at Helix a trifle warily. "I dreamt that you forced me to sleep once," he said, looking put out. "It was _terrible_."

Helix looked right at Ben and smirked before he turned to Obi-Wan and replied. "I only do that to people who _really_ deserve it," he said, his voice firm and level, then added, "or when someone _can't_ fall asleep without help."

"That can happen?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Sometimes," Helix said with a nod. "Have you brushed your teeth, Cadet?"

Without another word, Obi-Wan peeled himself free of their legs and hurried off to find their 'fresher. Waxer followed him.

Cody watched them go, bemused. Helix grinned, pleased with himself. Ben sighed and shook his head at their antics.

Crys took the opportunity to let himself flop down onto their mattress, clearly intending to sprawl out, then sat up again immediately with a surprised exclamation. "Wooley, what the-- Why is there a rock on your pillow?"

"A what?" Wooley asked him, puzzled.

What happened next didn't compute. Crys held up a karking _kyber crystal_ , and offered it to Wooley. "A rock. Well, I guess it's a crystal, really. On your pillow. Why is it there?"

"I've absolutely no idea." Wooley radiated honest confusion and mild horror. "That looks like one of the crystals Master Dooku was showing the General, earlier. What is it doing _here_? General, what do we do with it?"

"I suppose we had better return it, but that can wait until morning. I'd imagine Master Dooku is likely already abed." Ben held out his hand for it, and Crys gave it up willingly.

The crystal seemed to hum warmly in his hand in a way it hadn't when he'd been doing his meditation with it, those few hours ago, reminding Ben very strongly of the way his _vod'e_ had buzzed in the Force prior to having their chips removed. It was altogether very odd.

He wrapped it carefully in the tunic Jango had given him all those weeks ago, and which he never wore. He suspected, judging by its near-pristine state, that Jango had only worn it once or twice, himself.

The kyber crystal safely set aside where it wouldn't get damaged, Ben allowed Cody to tug him down onto the mattress. The rest of the _vod'e_ followed their lead, arranging themselves comfortably and waiting for Waxer to get back with Obi-Wan before they shut their eyes.

Obi-Wan eagerly rushed over to burrow into the middle of their comfortable tangle, the moment he was back in the room, squirming until he was cozily pinned between Ben and Boil and then relaxing with a sigh. " _Vod'e_ give the best hugs," he declared quietly, and got a few sleepy chuckles in response.

"Sleep, Cadet," Boil told him, a deep wellspring of fondness in his voice. "We'll keep you safe."

Obi-Wan yawned. "'Kay. G'night, _vod'e_. G'night, Ben."

It had definitely not been an uneventful evening, but oddly, Ben found that he felt a bit lighter, despite the intensity it had all carried. "Good night, Obi-Wan," he answered softly, and felt more than saw the smile he got for the words.

Somehow, after that, he managed to slip easily into slumber himself, the way eased by the reassuring knowledge that Cody had his back, and the others the rest of him.

When he stumbled back into wakefulness and stretched, the sight that met his eyes was one he knew would likely stick with him for many years. Somehow, as they'd slept, Obi-Wan had managed to climb over him, and had ended up sprawled all over Cody's chest. Cody himself, still dead to the world, was spreadeagled out on the mattress, with Helix tucked in close on his other side. It was bittersweet, and it felt like it pierced through him in a lance of mixed want and pain.

Tucking the memory away deep, safe, and far from his surface thoughts, Ben shut his eyes again, blocking out the sight, and let himself slip into a meditation while he waited for the others to stir. 

He might not be able to allow himself to indulge his wants, his need for companionship, his wish for a more intimate relationship with Cody, but he certainly could collect up whatever scraps of it were his to enjoy and save them up for those times when he really needed them.

The network seemed to rise up around him, blanketing him in comfort and belonging again, as his _vod'e_ recognised what they considered distress, and did their level best to soothe it away.

For once, feeling raw, Ben let them.

Soon enough their day would start, and he would need to be steady on his mental feet. Their _buir_ and Jango would show up with the early meal. It was likely Master Dooku would be with them. There might be some politics that his _buir_ wanted his opinion on. He'd have to find an opportunity to test out those upgrades Ardanna had made to his surcoat and go tell her how they worked for him. And try to remember a million other little things.

But, for now, he could enjoy the peace and respite his _vod'e_ offered him so freely.

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

This time around, waking up with the Cadet in their midst hadn't been nearly as jarring, and they'd been prepared to find Master Sifo-Dyas in their suite. Somehow -- and Waxer wasn't sure how -- they'd slept almost long enough that they could safely wake the Cadet for the early meal.

Waxer himself felt like he was well-caffeinated, for all that he hadn't had a drop yet. It was strange, but welcome.

From his position, tucked against Waxer's chest, Boil made a quiet sound of confusion. "Time's it?" He mumbled.

"Later than usual," Helix answered, sounding disoriented, himself.

"We overslept again?" Crys asked with a groan as he stretched.

The General chose to weigh in then, sounding just as baffled as the rest of them. "I feel ... strange," he said. "Like I found a way to swallow a sublight engine."

The Commander huffed at him, amused. Then put his arms around the Cadet, when that made the little one whine in protest.

And that, Waxer had to bite down on his lip to keep his grin under control, was just karking cute.

He settled himself more comfortably against Boil and let himself indulge the impulse to tuck his nose into the curve of his _riduur_ 's neck. "We must've missed the early meal," he put in.

Longshot sat up and scrubbed at his face. "I don't think we're prying the Cadet loose," he said, giving the little one, who was happily dozing, a speculative look. "The Commander might be stuck for the moment."

The General chuckled. "We were told he needed to sleep twelve hours. Not that he needed to do it on top of a _Vod_."

Waxer felt it when the General reached out with the Force and picked up the Cadet, like the flex of a muscle.

As the little one was lowered back into the mattress -- without any protests, which was borderline miraculous -- Commander Cody gratefully rolled to his feet and Helix joined him. 

"We should eat while we have the chance," Helix suggested. 

Wooley made an amused sound. "Just say you want your caf fix and have done," he shot back, getting to his feet and starting to pull his armour back on. 

The rest of the _vod'e_ followed suit without protest. Including their General, who riffled through his selection of teas with a very pleased expression. Waxer could feel a mix of pleasure and anticipation from him in the network, which was gently calling to the rest of them follow. To let themselves bask in his enjoyment of what they'd been able to find for him.

Once they'd emerged from their sleeping quarters, their buckets under their arms as usual, they'd found Master Sifo-Dyas seated at their long table with a mug of tea at his elbow and a contemplative expression. "Good morning," he greeted them. "I trust you slept well."

"Tolerably," the General replied, moving to boil some more water for his own tea. "I hope the guest room was to your satisfaction."

"It was, thank you." The master gave them a speculative look, as though weighing them. Considering something carefully.

Waxer watched him right back, not sure what to make of that intense expression. The General caught their eyes one-by-one. In the network, he was projecting a sense of calm and patience. With a shrug, Waxer decided not to let it bother him. He and his _vod'e_ had served themselves food and made caf before Master Sifo-Dyas spoke again. 

"I take it Obi-Wan is still asleep?" He asked.

The General nodded. "Probably. He was when we left the room."

"He's not any longer." Master Sifo-Dyas told them with a smirk.

Sure enough, a few moments later, the Cadet came bouncing out of their sleeping quarters, seemingly energized and ready to literally tackle the day.

Apparently oblivious to the undercurrents in the room, he simply latched onto the _jetii_ and started chattering happily. "Master Sy! It _worked_! It was great! My _vod'e_ give the _best hugs_ an' they kept the sad dreams away just like they said they would an' if they let me, I wanna stay with them _always_!"

Waxer grinned at the little one, and got a smile so bright in return he almost thought he'd need his visor to protect his eyes. Crys, who happened to be closest, reached down to tousle the Cadet's hair, his affection ringing through the network. "We keep our promises, Obi-Wan," he commented.

Master Sifo-Dyas chuckled indulgently. "I'm glad to hear it helped as much as you'd hoped, Obi-Wan. Come. Join us and break your fast."

Helix, ever quick to respond to changing situations, handed Master Sifo-Dyas a plate already loaded down with a selection of the available foods and followed it up with a set of silverware. Continuing to chatter happily about how long it had been since he'd slept so well and how he'd dreamt strange but pleasant things about building a new Temple and founding his own Order, Obi-Wan ate what they put in front of him a moment later and then blinked down at his plate in confusion when it was empty before he asked for seconds.

The conversation naturally paused for a few moments, then, as they all watched him dig into his food with apparent relish. Obi-Wan seemed to be adjusting quite quickly to the local cuisine, on the whole, though -- Waxer unsuccessfully fought his smile -- he still referred to chilis as the physical manifestation of the Dark Side. And curry had been dubbed _Dark Side Meat_.

There wasn't much more conversation until Jango commed them to let them know that he was waiting for them in the palace courtyard and demanded to know what was holding them up. Their General was on his feet immediately. "I hope everyone is prepared to go into town," he quipped.

Longshot glanced down at his chrono and visibly choked down a curse. "We'd better get moving, _vod'e_ , we're behind schedule."

Crys sniffed as he pushed back his chair and stood up, grabbing for his bucket as he moved. "Maybe we are, but it was kind of important that we finish our meals."

The Commander sighed, exasperated, as he stood, himself, then pulled his bucket on and moved to stand beside the General in his rightful place, both of them positioned by the doorway of their dining area. Settling his bucket comfortably on his head they waited expectantly for the _vod'e_ to form up. 

It took them all of a few seconds to get into their accustomed positions, and Master Sifo-Dyas helped the Cadet to his feet as they stood there patiently.

The Cadet, eager to take another speeder ride with his _ori'vod'e_ , was all but bouncing all over their dining area as he debated whether he needed to get this item or the other from his guestroom in Dooku's suite. Master Sifo-Dyas was snickering to himself as he watched this process, and gently reminding the little one that they were already almost late.

"Obi-Wan," the Master gently interrupted the little one's ongoing mutterings about his plushy tooka, "perhaps it would be wise to clean up and put on fresh robes before we leave."

"Huh? Oh! That's a good idea, Master Sy. But..." The Cadet's face fell a little.

Master Sifo-Dyas didn't seem fazed. "But?"

"But I forgot to bring extra robes, an' I don' wan'ta make someone bring them," Obi-Wan said, sounding genuinely dejected.

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled. "Don't worry, youngling, I brought some," he said, and the Cadet brightened right back up again.

"You're so good at planning, Master Sy!" He exclaimed, and let himself be prodded in the direction of the 'fresher by a distinctly amused _jetii_.

"We mustn't delay, Obi-Wan, Jango is waiting for us," Sifo-Dyas reminded the Cadet, and vanished into the 'fresher with him to help him with the task of changing his clothes.

The moment they were back out, Obi-Wan was right back to debating the merits of bringing his plushy along, and Master Sifo-Dyas was verbally prodding him toward the door.

To Waxer's amazement, it only took three such repetitions, and then Obi-Wan was all but climbing the General's armour in a bid to be carried down to the courtyard.

It worked, too.

Once they reached the Speeders waiting in the courtyard, Master Sifo-Dyas took over, prying the Cadet free of their General with the Force, much to Kenobi's amusement, and firmly putting him safely down in the center seat of one speeder's rear bench, like last time. The Cadet pouted at him, then turned his huge eyes on Waxer.

Force, but that took all of his self-control to resist. He wasn't sure how he managed it. Boil made a wounded noise next to him, and the Commander's fist clenched as though he was keeping himself from reaching out to do... something.

Jango laughed at the lot of them, breaking them out of their indecision. "I swear to the Force, all seven of you are wrapped around that _adiik_ 's little fingers."

"Have you tried to resist that look?" Commander Cody retorted. "It's harder than it seems."

"I've had to try to resist the seven of you," their _ori'vod_ replied in kind, and got Wooley, Crys, and Longshot to straighten up as if stung.

"Hey!" Crys protested. "We're not that bad."

"Whatever," Jango shrugged. "We're wasting time. Get seated, _vod'ike_ , so we can get underway."

Laughing at their _ori'vod_ they obeyed, distributing themselves between the two speeders. Jango would be driving one containing only _vod'e_ , and Master Sifo-Dyas the other. Riding with him were the General, the Cadet, the Commander, and Longshot. 

Thankfully, the trip to the markets and their short tour through them on foot went smoothly, and Master Sifo-Dyas was very pleased to have the chance to peruse the tea shop with the General. They would happily have spent karking _hours_ in there, if there hadn't been a schedule to stick to, Waxer was convinced.

Things stayed more or less uneventful until they got back to the parked speeders, preparing to cross Sundari to get to the live acted holodrama that Ardanna had suggested would be fun for the Cadet to watch.

" _Vod'e_?" The Cadet's voice, now suddenly tentative and a lot quieter, jerked him back out of his thoughts.

"What is it, _jet'ika_?" Longshot asked him.

"I-- I was wonderin' why Ben doesn't say Remembrances with you. He helps you with them, but he's never _with_ you."

Stunned, Waxer stilled. All around him, his _vod'e_ froze, too. All of them blindsided and unsure how to handle _that_ heavy topic. The network went tense with their reactions, pulling tight and singing like a wire zipline that had been overloaded. Jango and Master Sifo-Dyas both went very quiet and focused, and they made sure to keep themselves out of this particular conversation.

"Remembrances are a very private thing, Obi-Wan," the General jumped in, saving them all. "I would never intrude on something like that unless expressly invited to."

"It would hardly be an _intrusion_ , General," Wooley retorted, shaking his head.

"We weren't sure you'd want to hear ours," Crys added. "We all know yours are just as heavy a burden to carry."

That seemed to get Master Sifo-Dyas' full attention, for all that Waxer wasn't sure why. Out of everything they'd discussed, that had to be just about the least surprising thing that any of them could've said.

Setting that aside to puzzle over later, Waxer didn't stop himself from following through on the impulse to lean to his right and rest his shoulder against his _riduur_ 's. "You're one of us, General," he said, "you're welcome to take part in whichever of our rituals you want. Or not. There's no obligation, but there's certainly room enough for you to join in."

Their acceptance rose and swelled around them in the network, instigated by the Commander and happily propagated by the rest of them, until projecting that feeling at the General -- a comforting grip on his shoulder, a hand helping him up off the ground, an arm around his waist -- was the only thing any of them was doing.

The Cadet gave them all one of the most skeptical looks Waxer had ever seen. "Well, what you're doing now isn't _working_ ," he pointed out bluntly. "Your Remembrances take _ages_ and they hurt you, _vod'e_."

Jango made an amused sound. "Remembrances are for those of us whose comrades and loved ones have marched far away, Obi-Wan. They can be happy, if your memories of them are happy, or sad, if your memories of them are sad."

That made the Cadet's expression go mulish. "Then why do my _vod'e_ feel like they're bleeding in the Force when they do it?"

Waxer winced. So did Jango and -- to his surprise -- Master Sifo-Dyas. The General never missed a step. "Because, youngling, when a friend or loved one is taken from you suddenly, it leaves behind wounds that take a long time to heal. Years, sometimes decades."

Helix sighed heavily. "That's... not a bad way to put it, General," he agreed, his voice quiet and solemn. Going down on one knee in front of the Cadet, to put himself at eye level, he went on. "We've lost many _Vod'e_ in battles, Cadet. And when those of us who made it through have a chance to think about that, it sometimes hurts so badly that we need mind healers." He looked up at General Kenobi after that, speaking directly to him and ignoring everyone else. "But our General helps make sure we all make it through, and that's why we all trust him so much. He's the light in the darkness guiding us home."

Kenobi gave them a slightly pale smile. "I'll keep that in mind, _vod'e_. But let's change the topic. There are happier things we could -- and should -- be discussing."

Waxer was fairly sure that Master Sifo-Dyas would store this conversation away for later dissection and didn't quite know how he felt about that, but he let himself be diverted. "What should we be talking about, then, sir?"

"Well, first," the General scooped the Cadet up and handed him off to Master Sifo-Dyas, "you seven need to decide if you're sticking to the speeder seating arrangements you picked earlier."

"Why would we need to do that, sir?" The Commander asked him.

"Because I can tell the others are itching to swap with Longshot," the General shot back.

None of them even tried to deny it.

"He's the best choice, though, General," Boil said with a shrug. "Barring maybe Helix."

The best _strategic_ choice, Waxer amended the statement silently. "Unless you've got some concerns, General, I think we should leave the arrangements as they are."

The Cadet surveyed them, then put in. "Nothing bad will happen today, _vod'e_."

The sheer certainty in his voice was a little jarring.

"You sure about that, Cadet?" The Commander asked him, curiously.

"Yup! The Force is telling me so." The little one replied with a solemn, serious mien. "You don' have'ta worry so much."

"Your _vod'e_ have many reasons to be cautious, Obi-Wan," Master Sifo-Dyas put in, shifting the little one into a more comfortable position on his hip, "and I believe we have one more destination to get to. Don't we, General?"

Hearing that title falling off of a _jetii_ 's lips was just ... strange. Waxer couldn't put his finger on why, but it seemed to ring a trifle oddly in the air. As though it had a different sort of _weight_ and _meaning_ than it did when the _Vod'e_ used it. It made Kenobi straighten and square his shoulders, and that was just as odd, in a different way. As though the mere acknowledgement that he'd well and truly earned the title -- coming from a _jetii_ \-- was worth something.

Something the _Vod'e_ couldn't offer him, perhaps.

Not validation. They could and did give him that in spades. But... perhaps some level of recognition that he'd never gotten at the Temple.

No. That didn't quite ring true either.

Waxer shook off the thoughts.

General Kenobi gave him a knowing look, as though he could see Waxer's sudden realisations trying to take shape, then nodded. "We do. The theatre is on the far side of the city from here, so we shall have to move quickly if we don't wish to miss the beginnings of the show."

"Of course. Come, Obi-Wan," the master agreed without argument, and settled the Cadet in their speeder while the _vod'e_ moved to do the same.

Once they were moving again, Jango asked, "So what was that all about?"

"I'd tell you if I knew," Waxer replied. "That was a very confusing conversation."

They drove in silence the rest of the way across Sundari, keeping a watchful eye on the other speeder and their surroundings.

The theatre, they were all well karking aware, would be the worst kind of security nightmare, but the Cadet's confidence that nothing would go wrong was reassuring, in the same way that the General's usually was.

Nevertheless, Waxer found he was glad that their arrival went relatively unremarked. They were a very recognisable group. There was no question that they'd been seen and that everyone with more than one lonely brain cell knew exactly who they were. Their distinctive colour schemes and their presence at Jango's side. Their General's unique take on traditional _beskar'gam_. The _jetii_ in their midst, openly wearing robes and _jetii'kad_. And, Waxer knew karking well, the Cadet would draw all kinds of attention -- both good and bad -- with his appearance.

Waxer let himself reflect on the situation as they all took their seats, tucked away in a corner of the theatre with a good view and defensibility. There would be just as much gossip flying around the city as there had been the palace, and not all of it would help their image. The New Mandalorians outnumbered the True Mandalorians, after all, and both factions tended to disapprove of _jetiise_. Likely they always would.

The General, as an adopted _mando'ad_ , was one of theirs, and thus subject to fewer scowls and disparaging remarks. Despite that, though, he and his _vod'e_ had had to hold Crys and Longshot back from starting a loud _discussion_ during their stint in the Markets. Luckily, the General hadn't noticed -- or had carefully ignored -- the minor scuffle in the network, and they'd managed to get back underway with no one the wiser, seeing as their expressions were hidden under their buckets.

They'd clearly gotten a little too accustomed to the welcoming atmosphere inside the Palace, where most of the _mando'ad'e_ present were friendly towards or affiliated with their _buir_ 's political faction.

The show began then, momentarily diverting him, and Waxer watched for a few minutes. The Cadet was enthralled and hanging off every word. He had to admit, too, that the acting really was quite good. A reenactment of some popular holodrama for younglings, about a kath hound pup separated from its mother and then working to find its way home. It was cute, but he couldn't give it his whole attention.

About halfway through the show, which was just over an hour long, Waxer happened to see Master Sifo-Dyas slip the Commander a datapad. It got immediately tucked away, attached to the Commander's belt near his hip, where it would draw no attention.

No one else noticed, and the network stayed quiet, save for a small well-contained burst of surprise and curiosity that had already faded by the time Kenobi glanced over to check in with the Commander.

Waxer decided to let it go for now. He could ask about the mysterious datapad later. Given the source, it might well be some information Master Dooku wanted to pass on to the Commander. They'd done the information exchange thing before.

Settling back into that near-meditative state he and his _vod'e_ used while on watch, Waxer shoved that question -- interesting as it was -- back out of his mind.

\--- POV: Sifo-Dyas ---

"Block and parry drill, pair off," Sifo-Dyas said.

Obi-Wan bounced up to Doo, while the rest of the _vod'e_ picked a partner seemingly at random. Curiously, Ben chose to work with Wooley. Sifo-Dyas would have expected him to choose his commander.

They'd spent all morning running around Sundari, followed by the live action holodrama and then lunch out. Obi-Wan had actually fallen asleep on the way back to the palace, out cold within minutes of the speeder starting. Sifo-Dyas had asked Jango to take the long way back, to give Obi-Wan a proper nap.

That had paid off. After a short stop in their rooms for everyone to drop off their purchases and refresh themselves, Obi-Wan had been energetic and ready for afternoon training.

Sifo-Dyas had given Doo the extra training ‘sabre so that he could properly work with Obi-Wan. Ben and the rest of the _vod'e_ had borrowed wooden training _beskad'e_. The Mandalorian sword wasn't quite like a lightsabre, but the practice weapons were close enough analogues for the _vod'e_ to get a feel for the movements. 

Obi-Wan went through the lesson with his face drawn down in furious concentration. It was very endearing. Sifo-Dyas could tell that Doo thought so too, though the scattered watchers along the walls likely weren't able to. He and Doo just knew each other very well. 

The _vod'e_ were strangely hesitant. They approached each drill session with the air of lowly worshippers unsure if they were worthy enough to enter a grand cathedral. 

Sifo-Dyas was familiar with the feeling of awe and excitement that lightsabre training inspired in young initiates. Even a sense of self-consciousness or awkwardness wasn't unheard of. But the _vod'e_ seemed to view even the pretend 'sabres as sacred.

His instincts told him to encourage them. To support them. He did his best, but it was unclear if his words had any effect. Likely, this would be something that only time could remedy. 

He was glad to see them joining Obi-Wan. It would do them all good.

As they all ran through the simple back and forth drill, Sifo-Dyas walked around the group, adjusting stances here and there and offering a word or two of encouragement. While training younglings certainly wasn't his calling, he'd had practice in the crèches. Master Drallig, the Temple's Battlemaster and Doo’s padawan-brother, had offered him some tips over the last several weeks when it had become clear to everyone that Obi-Wan would be spending a great deal of time with him.

Sifo-Dyas was grateful for those tips now. 

Doo was an immeasurable help. He _loved_ lightsabre work, and his enthusiasm bled through in every training session. It was no wonder that Doo had already trained two padawans; he clearly adored sharing his knowledge with a receptive audience. 

Sifo-Dyas could sense that this quality set him in good stead with the Mandalorians. They did indeed treasure children. Their surprise and pleasure at how Sifo-Dyas and Doo treated young Obi-Wan were strong in the Force. That was all to the good as far as Sifo-Dyas was concerned. Goodwill towards the Jedi would only help all of them.

The angry, hateful feelings of some of the bystanders outside of the palace only drove home how important it was for them to make a good impression. For Ben's sake and Doo's, if for no other reason. He'd kept Obi-Wan shielded from it, and he'd sensed the _vod'e_ heading off a few spots of trouble before they could start. All was well, and Obi-Wan had a wonderful time.

"Good," Sifo-Dyas said as the drill came to a natural end. "Parry riposte drill next. Take it slow. Focus on how your body is moving rather than trying… to…"

There was a shiver in the Force. 

Words dried up in Sifo-Dyas's throat. His eyes blurred out of focus. Nothing he was seeing was more important than what he was feeling right then.

The Force coiled up like a spring, winding around him, over and over. He couldn't breathe. There was just _so much_ of it.

"Sy?" Doo's voice was far, far away.

The vision struck him like a warhammer to his forehead. It _hurt_.

Darkness filled the edges of his sight. It was everywhere, soaked into every corner and creeping into his peripheral vision. The taste of it was heavy and metallic on his tongue. Salty and sour. Blood and fear and sweat.

He saw Obi-Wan. Older and on the edge of exhaustion. Pieces of armour were strapped over his Jedi robes, both liberally marked with blaster burns and dirt. With him was a man. Jango's twin, but definitely not Jango. He had short blond hair and a clean shaven face. The plates of his armour were white with small sections of painted blue, and they were affixed to a black bodysuit. 

Even as the Darkness threatened to smother them, they were looking at each other with such love, such utter devotion, that they burned in Sifo-Dyas's Sight. They were a torch in the night.

Another wave of pain coursed through him. He could barely even feel his body anymore. There was only the Force, dragging him through to the next scene like a swimmer caught in a riptide.

Battle droids. So many battle droids. They swept through world after world, with no one to stop them. Their metal shells were filled with oily black poison and every step they took spread corruption. Those who were conquered were purged or subjugated. The Force wept with their suffering. 

The Force twisted again. Sifo-Dyas clung to the threads of himself. He would not falter, and nor would he fight it. He let himself go where the Force was taking him, trusting in it to bring him back whole when the vision was done. 

Coruscant. The sky was yellow and dull and the streets unnaturally quiet. There were no speeders. None. Black smoke filled the air above what was left of the Jedi temple. Half of the Senate building was gone, replaced by a still-burning crater. 

Deep at its center was more evil than Sifo-Dyas had ever seen before. More focused malevolence than he'd ever dreamed was possible. A black hooded figure, bowed with age and spry with pure wickedness. His eyes burned sulphurous yellow and his throne was built on dead Jedi. 

The most terrifying part of the whole thing was the soul-deep knowledge that this monster in humanoid form had been there _all along_. He didn't invade. He didn't storm the gates and take over. _He was already there_.

That was the last thing Sifo-Dyas saw before the Force released him and he fell into blessed unconsciousness. 

\--


	38. Chapter 38

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel --

Waxer fought to keep his hands from shaking. Kark, what a way to end their training session.

The first sign that anything was wrong had been Master Sifo-Dyas' words trailing off.

The second had been Master Dooku all but throwing the Cadet into his arms and demanding that he keep an eye on the little one.

And then everything had gone to hell. Whatever had happened to him, the Force had rippled so strongly around Master Sifo-Dyas that even Waxer had been able to tell something was off. Wooley and the General had dropped their drill immediately, and Kenobi had hurried over to help Master Dooku do... whatever it was he was doing.

Master Sifo-Dyas had gone down hard -- literally everyone out in the training yard had seen it -- leaving him sprawled on the ground, all but cradled in a very concerned-looking Master Dooku's arms. Helix had been at their sides a moment later, swearing at them and demanding to know what was happening. The rest of them had automatically formed up around them a few seconds later, shielding them from view and keeping an eye on the curious _verd'e_ who'd settled in to spectate from the far side of the training yard. They'd all been very on edge, searching for the source of what had looked like an attack and _not finding one_.

Waxer swallowed hard against the memory of the way the Cadet's distress had ripped through the network. The mix of anxiety, fear, and apprehension had made his hands shake, then, and the memory of it was making them try to shake now.

Rather than let them, Waxer wrapped his arms a little tighter around his _riduur_.

"Kark, I hope he's alright," Crys said softly. "That looked very painful."

"The General's visions aren't like that," Longshot muttered. "Thank kriff."

"I guess this is what the General meant, when he said Master Sifo-Dyas might not be able to take on a padawan," Wooley added, his voice full of ... something. Waxer wasn't sure whether it was sympathy, confusion, or something else entirely. Wooley felt like he was trying to feel every possible negative emotion at once, in the network.

The Cadet, tucked against the Commander's chestplate and curled up into a miserable little ball of _jet'ika_ , nodded. "Master Sy's visions can make him real sick," he said, sounding very worried and tense. "Las' time, I couldn' see him for more'n a rotation."

Waxer's eyes met Wooley's, and they shared a moment of complete understanding. Master Sifo-Dyas, for all that he seemed to be a natural at dealing with their Cadet, might not be what the _jetiise_ considered 'able-bodied'. And if the Cadet ever got hurt because of the way his visions affected him, Master Sifo-Dyas would likely never forgive himself.

They would have to rethink their plans to prod that particular _jetii_ into apprenticing Obi-Wan. 

Before anyone got up the nerve to break the silence that had fallen on the heels of the Cadet's remark, the door of Master Dooku's bedroom opened, and Helix stomped out, muttering about Force visions and karking strange physiological aftereffects under his breath. The General followed him, looking worn to a thread by whatever he'd done with the Force.

The pair of them looked around the room, counting heads, then nodded, apparently satisfied nothing _else_ had gone wrong in their absence.

"The good news," General Kenobi said, his voice rasping a little, "is that Master Sifo-Dyas is none the worse for wear, save for a fairly bad case of Force exhaustion, which Master Dooku informs me is the norm for this sort of event."

"What's the bad news?" The Commander asked, playing straight man for Kenobi, as he always did.

"It will take him at least a rotation to recover," General Kenobi informed them, even as he wavered a little on his feet.

Master Dooku appeared in the doorway of the room. He, Waxer couldn't help but notice, looked like he'd gone four rounds with a gundark, bare handed.

"Ben, if you would be so kind as to put on some water for tea," he requested, sounding utterly exhausted himself, "I would be in your debt."

"No, we'll get it," Crys said, and immediately disappeared into the master's dining area.

Longshot nodded. "The General needs to sit down and rest just as much as you clearly do, master _jetii_."

General Kenobi caught Dooku's eyes. "Don't worry, my _vod'e_ won't ruin anything. They may vastly prefer caf over any kind of civilised beverage, but they're well accustomed to accommodating my own preferences."

Master Dooku simply nodded, too tired out to argue. "Very well. The herbal blend he prefers for days such as this is kept in the light blue tin."

"Light blue tin. Got it." Longshot nodded, then disappeared after Crys.

"While it steeps, if the rest of you could put together a tray?"

"Of what? Snacks?" Waxer asked, in an attempt to get a bit more information as to what was actually supposed to be on that tray.

"Something light to eat is no bad idea, but more important are the medications Master Sifo-Dyas will need to take to speed his recovery."

"Which ones are those?" Helix demanded.

Master Dooku gave him a knowing look. "Nothing all that exotic. A muscle relaxant and a painkiller. They're kept in a pair of amber bottles. The bottles will be in a locked box on the uppermost shelf in the guest bedroom. You won't need a key. It's meant to keep little fingers away, not to make things truly difficult to get to."

"Right, that sounds harmless enough," Helix went off in search of the medications, and Waxer had no doubt that he would inspect them to make sure they really were what they'd been presented as.

"Waxer?" Master Dooku turned to him.

He straightened. "Yes, sir?"

The honorific made Master Dooku give him a momentarily baffled look. After a beat he shook it back off, and asked, "There should be a spare datapad still on the table in the dining area."

Guessing what the master _jetii_ wanted, Waxer nodded. "I'll get it. Anything else?"

"No. Obi-Wan?"

The little one eeled right out of the Commander's arms and hurried over to Master Dooku, flinging his arms around one long leg and clinging to the master. He didn't say a word, but his distress leaked out into the network and Master Dooku -- though he looked very karking uncomfortable doing it -- did what he could to comfort the youngling.

"Come now, it'll be alright," he said, a bit haltingly, then reached down to run one hand awkwardly through the Cadet's hair. "Master Sifo-Dyas said I should ask you if you wished to sit with him for a little while, youngling. Would that help?"

Obi-Wan turned to stare up at the Master. "Really? It'd be okay?"

"Yes, really. But you must try to be as calm as you can. Master Sifo-Dyas is hurting, right now."

"I can do that!" The Cadet declared, and got a hint of a smile out of Dooku.

"I was certain you could," he answered, and turned the Cadet towards the door, giving him a little push to get him moving.

The moment the pair of them were back in the master's bedroom, the General's comm beeped, making everyone still in the room jump.

Torn between sticking around to find out if they were needed elsewhere to deal with another fire that needed putting out or getting that datapad, Waxer hesitated.

"Kenobi," the General answered, managing to sound almost normal, somehow.

Waxer was convinced that was some kind of Force wizardry.

"Ben!" Jango's voice rang through the room. "Is everyone alright? The _verd'e_ said Master Sifo-Dyas _collapsed_ out in the training yard."

Reassured that nothing else had gone wrong, Waxer stopped listening and left the General to it while he went off in search of that datapad. It turned out to be right where Master Dooku had said it would be, and he picked it up, intending to carry it back out into the sitting room.

"Waxer?" Crys stopped him.

"Yeah, _vod_?"

"Did Dooku say if he wanted one mug or two?"

"Nope." Waxer gave his _vod_ a sardonic look. "Might as well add one for the Cadet, if you're going to go that far."

Crys nodded, looking like that was an idea that he hadn't even considered, and offered him a very casual half-assed salute that would've gotten him a reprimand aboard the _Negotiator_.

Longshot slipped past them and back into the sitting room, while Crys set out three cups, the tea, and the pot of water on the tray. Some fruit and travel bread had already been placed on it. Light finger foods that didn't take much effort to eat. Waxer added the datapad.

Helix was waiting for them in the sitting room, the requested pill bottles held in his hand, and a neutral enough expression that Waxer assumed nothing untoward had turned up in the box of medicines.

As if conjured, Master Dooku all but stumbled back out of the bedroom just as they'd assembled the tray. He glanced at it, nodded, took it, thanked them, and disappeared back into the bedroom.

Unsure quite what to do, Waxer turned to the General. "Jango calmed down?"

Kenobi shrugged. "More or less. He and _buir_ wanted to come check on Master Sifo-Dyas, themselves, and it took some convincing to get them to wait until next rotation."

"Waiting is likely the best course of action, at this point," Helix agreed, albeit a trifle reluctantly. "He's got company to keep an eye on him, and there's not much more we can do right now. More visitors would probably only stress him."

Boil nodded. "Alright, but what now?"

"Now," Kenobi said, "we wait. Master Dooku hasn't requested that we leave, and I'm not inclined to, just yet."

"You think they might need us for something else, General?" The Commander asked.

"Neither of them is in any fit shape to take care of Obi-Wan," Kenobi pointed out, "and none of us have had our late meal."

Waxer groaned. "Trying to get Obi-Wan out of there long enough to get him fed might not be easy."

Kenobi made a bemused sound. "We'll get it done. Obi-Wan might be worried, but he won't insist on staying and tiring out Master Sifo-Dyas. For now, all we need do is hold here and calm ourselves down. All of you are still tense enough to make me want to wince for the state your shoulders must be in."

Wooley, who'd been very quiet, until that point, finally broke his silence. "General?"

Kenobi turned to face him. "Yes?"

"What exactly happened, down there on the training yard?" Their _vod_ asked.

"Master Sifo-Dyas had a strong Force vision. What he Saw, I've not the faintest, but I felt the way the Force twisted around him."

"There was a _ripple_ ," Wooley agreed. "Was that the vision?"

"It was," Kenobi confirmed.

"I felt it too," the Commander agreed. "Something that made me think of a building wave, meters high, about to break."

"Not everyone with Force sensitivity will feel the same event the same way. Most would associate it with light, but water is another good analogy," Kenobi started pontificating.

The network filled with a resigned sense of _here we go again, General's about to stop speaking Basic_ , that made Kenobi pause, give them a look caught somewhere between curious and hurt, and ask. "What?"

Waxer winced. "It's just... when you get really into your explanations like that, General, you leave us in the dust."

A bit of the hurt vanished again. "Oh."

Wooley jumped back in, yanking them back on topic, "So, if that's what a vision feels like to someone else, what does it feel like to you?"

The General looked caught off guard. "I-- it's-- it's difficult to describe, and it can vary, depending on whether what you see is something that you feel is positive or not. A vision that doesn't leave you searching for ways to prevent the foretold events? That can be gentle, and sometimes almost euphoric. A sense of bright shining light or warmth. A vision pertaining to darker things, on the other hand, can hit like a star cruiser and leave you fighting to keep your sense of self intact. And all visions are physically very tiring. They burn through your energy reserves and, in extreme cases," he nodded towards the still-closed bedroom door, "it can cause a case of Force exhaustion that will leave you bedridden."

Helix scowled. "And yours fall, what, in the middle of the scale, General?"

Kenobi gave their medic a look of fond exasperation. "Stop trying to mother me, Helix. We've had this discussion far too many times already."

"I'll stop mothering you, when you stop needing it," Helix said flatly. "Now, before you jump back into that discussion, tell me what you want to eat. All of us need to replenish the calories we burned today."

"Whatever the kitchen staff have on hand is fine," the General replied, suddenly sounding rather more tired than he had before.

Accepting that with a nod, Helix knocked on the bedroom door and waited, more or less patiently, until it opened to reveal the Cadet. Master Dooku was standing behind him a moment later.

"Yes, Helix?" The Master asked, the tired rasp in his voice more pronounced than before. "Everything alright?"

Their medic gave him a level look, and Waxer just knew he'd have counted that as a question with an obvious answer, had Master Dooku been any less tired and visibly heavy on his feet. It was obvious only sheer stubbornness was keeping him upright. "We're about to procure ourselves something for the late meal. Should we count you in?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "We should get Master Sy some more snacks," he said firmly. "He says he's not hungry, but I can tell."

Helix nodded, then looked up at Master Dooku for confirmation. "Finger foods that may be kept overnight without issue. Master Sifo-Dyas is likely to fall asleep the moment the medicines truly hit his system."

"And for you and the Cadet?" Helix persisted.

Master Dooku gave him a wan half-smile. "Whatever you're having will surely be fine. If you could see to it that the youngling gets fed and put to bed..."

"Of course," General Kenobi answered immediately.

"Come here, Cadet," the Commander requested, "and tell us how Master Sifo-Dyas is doing."

Recognising the tactic for what it was, Master Dooku pointed the little one at the Commander and gave him a nudge. "Don't worry, youngling. I will make sure nothing happens while you are with your _vod'e_."

He paused, then surprised them all with his next request. "If one of you would join us until your meal arrives, that would be of great help to us both. It may well be that we need someone to transcribe some information for us, and it is unlikely that either of us will be in any shape to do it in a coherent manner."

Waxer glanced at the Commander for an indication of what to do, and knew all his _vod'e_ were doing the same.

The Commander glanced at Kenobi, got a nod, then turned to him. "Waxer, you're up. Let Boil have a turn at utterly spoiling the Cadet."

With an amused huff, Waxer accepted the orders. "Sir. Boil, don't even think of trying to pull anything fast."

"Oh, I'm sure you needn't worry," Kenobi put in. "You've firmly established your place in Obi-Wan's affections, Waxer."

Watching as the Cadet attached himself to the Commander, Master Dooku allowed himself a shake of his head and a tiny amused smile of his own, then turned and led the way back into the darkened bedroom without another word.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust, and once they did Waxer almost didn't believe what they were telling him, at first. Master Sifo-Dyas looked like he'd shrunk. He looked thinner, and far paler than he had that morning. As though whatever he'd seen had done its best to suck the life right out of him. 

Small wonder Helix and the Cadet had been worried about him.

"Obi-Wan taken care of?" Master Sifo-Dyas asked, his voice weak.

"Ben and his _vod'e_ will deal with the little one, Sy. You must rest and recover," Master Dooku's voice was gentle.

Moreso than Waxer had ever heard it, in fact. And that was the nickname the Cadet used for the Master all the time. Had Dooku picked it up from the youngling? That would -- to his own mild surprise -- not surprise him. Not after the way he'd seen Dooku awkwardly but genuinely show that he cared about Obi-Wan.

Master Sifo-Dyas attempted to raise a hand to do something, but Dooku caught it and held it fast in his own, staring deep into his _good friend's_ eyes, "No, Sy, don't worry about me. I'm fine. Some sleep and I'll be right back to normal."

If they weren't kriffing, Waxer would eat his bucket.

A bit awkward himself, now, he shuffled his feet a little in an attempt to subtly point out that the room wasn't empty. Thank the Force, Dooku picked up on the hint quickly.

"Come, Sy," he redirected things. "I've recruited a scribe to take notes, since you're in no shape to do more than speak, right now, and I'm... not focusing well."

The stricken Master scoffed. "You said you w're fine," he retorted, more or less clearly.

Waxer snorted. "He is, sir," he put in, "by _jetii_ standards. Which seems to mean anything less than fatal is to be brushed off."

Dooku actually chuckled. "Well, my state is easily remedied, and shall be the moment I've eaten, I think."

"Good," Sifo-Dyas said. "One of us needs t' help Ben keep an eye on Obi-Wan, Doo, and I can't."

And there was the other nickname the Cadet loved to sprinkle all over. _Master Sy and Master Doo._ It really was cute that the pair of them had picked up the Cadet's nicknames for them. And kind of reassuring. That they valued the little one enough to accept that sharp jab to their respective dignities... that said something. Waxer wasn't fully certain _what_ , but it was something, and potentially important, given their quest to find the Cadet a better master to learn from than that karking laserbrain Jinn.

Dooku sighed heavily. "I can't promise I'll not butcher the attempt, but, for your sake, I _will_ attempt it."

The smile that got out of Master Sifo-Dyas might've simply been a hair too wide because the drugs were starting to take effect... or it might've been for another reason entirely. "Then let's get this over with," he suggested, forcing his pronunciation clearer with what looked like monumental effort. "Waxer surely wants to get back to his _vod'e_ to join them for their meal."

"I'll cope," he said simply. "What do you need?"

"I-- what I Saw must be recorded, so that I don't miss details if I am asked to tell someone about it later. It is possible that the Council will wish to know specifics about it once I am back on Coruscant."

 _Kark._ That sounded serious.

"I can do that," Waxer agreed. "Is there a specific format you prefer to use?"

Master Dooku shook his head. "It just has to be coherent, and as detailed as possible."

Nodding thoughtfully, Waxer posed one last question. "Do you want me to ask questions as we go?"

Master Sifo-Dyas cleared his throat and said, "If you feel it would clarify things, or if anything I say is inconsistent, certainly, but I would prefer to keep this brief."

"You got it, Master Jedi." Waxer picked up the datapad, noted that it was ready to go, and settled himself at the small table in the room, where he could type more quickly and comfortably.

Once he was seated, Master Sifo-Dyas began speaking, his voice pained and low. "The vision was... disjointed. Or... perhaps it was several short visions..."

Deciding to simply transcribe whatever was said for later, Waxer began typing.

"It was... darkness. Everywhere, all around me, soaking into everything," The Master paused to take a deeper breath, and he shuddered. "It was strong enough I could _taste_ it. Metallic, like blood. I could see no source. It just... was. Perhaps it resulted from some larger event, somewhere in the galaxy, perhaps not. There was no indication of such."

 _That_ was definitely ominous.

There wasn't really much there that needed clarification, so Waxer held his tongue and waited.

"Then the scene changed. Whether the two are related, I cannot say, but next to appear to me was the youngling. Obi-Wan... was older. Perhaps twenty years of age... if I were to hazard a guess. Wearing Jedi robes, with a few plates of armour layered over them."

Twenty was too young for it to be the General-- wait, no. Not if the vision had to do with their previous timeline. That would still be in this timeline's future. Kark, this was confusing.

"What was he doing?" Waxer prompted, when the silence drew out a little.

Master Sifo-Dyas took another deeper breath, and Waxer heard it hitch as he chuckled, the sound very nearly vanishing under the rasp in his voice. "Fighting. The scene looked like a momentary lull in a battle, though it is hard to say that for sure."

Force visions really weren't all that helpful, it appeared, judging by the general lack of specific details.

After a beat, the Master went on. "Obi-Wan was filthy," he said with a hint of an amused smirk that quickly vanished again. "Clothing and armour streaked with... blaster burns and dirt. As though he'd been shot at... and then taken a fall onto wet soil. There was another young man... at his side, about... the same age as Obi-Wan. Clad in white armour... over a black bodysuit."

 _Oh kriff._ That sounded like it had to be one of the _Vod'e_. But if Obi-Wan was only twenty, it _couldn't be_ a vision from their timeline.

Before Waxer could process that fully, stunned by what he'd heard and knowing that his alarm and surprise had to have hit the network like a brick to the head, Master Sifo-Dyas kept talking. It was difficult to focus on the notes he was taking while his _vod'e_ were trying to find out what was going on.

Waxer waited until the Master paused, repeatedly telling the _di'kut'e_ nagging at him that he was _fine_ , and then interjected. "One moment, I need to proofread what I just typed."

Reaching out, he grabbed at the network, pulling them in and offering each of them a firm grip to the shoulder, calming them down, as he pretended to check over the words on his screen. In that space he and his _riduur_ had carved out for themselves, knowing that their connection would be clearer than any he had with the others, besides maybe the General, he said, _Karking give me a few minutes, for Force's sake. I'm **fine**. I'll tell you all about it later._

He got back reluctant agreement, in response to his exasperation.

Reasonably sure that his _vod'e_ would leave him in peace for the moment, Waxer looked back up. "Right, sorry about that. What you described surprised me and I lost the thread for a moment there. You were saying?"

Dooku made an amused sound, but he said nothing. Waxer had to wonder just how much he knew -- or suspected -- about the existence of the network.

Master Sifo-Dyas simply started talking again. "The young man with Obi-Wan was... familiar. If he hadn't looked far too young, I'd have thought it was your brother, Jango, with his hair shaved down in military fashion and dyed blond."

His first knee-jerk reaction amounted to _Rex._ But was that even possible? Rex hadn't made it back in time with them, and there were other blond _Vod'e_... and the _jetii_ had said that the _Vod_ 's hair had looked dyed. In fact, so far as Waxer knew, Rex was the only natural blond _Vod_ ever. All the others dyed their hair, so his guesses about this _Vod_ 's identity might be wrong.

That led him to the next set of unpleasant realisations. If Rex was with Obi-Wan, that would mean a _lot_ of _very bad_ things might be about to go down. If Obi-Wan was about twenty in that vision, that meant it had to be taking place about fifteen years from now.

Shaking his head to clear it -- he could consider the implications later -- and hurriedly typing up what had been said and nothing more, Waxer asked, "Was there anything else special about his appearance?"

"... I-- I'm not-- yes. Yes, sections of it were painted a rich dark blue," The Master answered, and Waxer had to swallow hard, confirmation acquired, as Sifo-Dyas kept talking. "The pair of them were... luminous. There was Darkness... attempting to swallow them, but they burned with Light... like a torch in the night. Their devotion to one another was clear. The way... the way they were looking at one another..."

There was a pause, then, as Dooku gently coerced Sifo-Dyas into drinking some more tea, and eating some more of the finger foods still on the tray set beside the bed. Waxer used the time to his advantage and did what he could to work through the odd mixture of feelings that those last few sentences had sent through him. The confirmation of his suspicions had been another shock, but thankfully that time Waxer had managed to damp the feelings of mixed relief and dismay that sent through him before anything could hit the network and freak out his _vod'e_ again.

Hearing that Sifo-Dyas had had a vision of the Cadet and Rex standing together and holding back the Darkness he'd been describing... Waxer wasn't sure what to think about that. Where were the rest of them in that vision? If Rex was at the Cadet's side, there would have to be other _Vod'e_ with them. There was no way he or any of his _Vod'e_ would ever allow those two to go running off on their own without at least one squad of troopers for backup. The whole premise of the vision was suspiciously _off_. ... Unless the others with them had been killed or knocked out, Waxer realised, and bit down on a pained groan of dismay. They'd just have to keep a very karking careful eye on everything the Cadet and any _Vod'e_ with him did. Nothing else to be done about it.

It took the pair of _jetiise_ a couple of minutes to sort themselves out but once their not-argument had been resolved, Master Sifo-Dyas went on, forcing Waxer to refocus his attention. "Where was I in the tale?"

The Master did sound a little stronger, now. Good. Waxer read back the end of the last sentence he'd transcribed.

"Ah, yes. The scene changed again, then, but not before the glimpse I got suggested that... Obi-Wan and this... unknown young man were close. Perhaps... as close as you are to your brothers."

Waxer nearly dropped the datapad. "Your vision showed you that?" He asked, stunned, as he wrote that down.

"It is a supposition, based on the expressions they wore. They were worried for one another, with an intensity that is not often seen, even among close friends."

 _That was a very ironic sentence to come out of his mouth,_ Waxer couldn't help but think. It sounded a lot like Sifo-Dyas was implying that the Cadet and the Captain were in a relationship, and that raised far more questions than it answered. Why Rex? Sure, it was obvious that the Cadet and the General wouldn't share the Commander. That would just be far too karking weird even for their lives. Nothing about this part of the vision added up to a sum that made any karking sense. But Rex and the Cadet...? Well, alright, now that he thought about it a little more, it might even work. 

On the other hand, Rex wasn't alive, right now, and wouldn't ever be, if they managed to prevent the war. He didn't have confirmation, not by a long shot, but Waxer kind of suspected that the Commander would have immediately known whether or not Rex had made it back through time with them. Those two _vod'e_ had always been very close -- batchmate-close -- and it had shown in just how flawlessly they worked together despite being they were from entirely different classes of clones. It was pretty much a given that the two of them had had some kind of network bond, before this bizarre Force-based time travel adventure had started. And right now, Commander Cody was missing that _vod_ like he would an amputated hand.

Giving up on his attempts to make sense of what he'd heard and shaking off his thoughts, Waxer prompted, "So you said the scene changed, after that?"

Master Sifo-Dyas shuddered again, and swallowed hard as though the memory of the vision was making him want to vomit. His eyes suddenly blazed, the need to _stop_ whatever it was giving him the strength to speak clearly and fluidly. "It did. The next part of the vision showed me battle droids. Wave upon wave of them, sweeping over one world after the next, leaving behind footsteps that spread corruption. Their metal shells were filled with an oily black poison, and those whom they conquered were purged or subjugated. Their presence made the Force _weep_. Pain, fear, anger... suffering. Darkness followed in their wake, like a curtain coming down over the galaxy, and blanketing it in hate. And then before I could even get a close look at the droids, I was on Coruscant. It was eerie. The skies were yellow and dull, and the streets _quiet_ in a way they _never_ are. Nothing moved. The Temple stood in ruins, a thick column of black smoke rising from them, and most of the Senate building was gone, in its place a still-burning crater."

Waxer felt his jaw drop. Everything about that was _horrifying_.

"Deep at the crater's center, was a being that felt like the focal point of all the galaxy's malevolence, concentrated down into a single hooded figure. Whoever it was, was bowed with age, but the wickedness coursing through them kept them light on their feet. The being's eyes burned yellow, and they reclined, very satisfied, on a throne built over the corpses of dead Jedi. But, perhaps worst of all, that monster had been there all along, like a festering wound allowed to turn to rot. He was there _all along_ and no one realised. He didn't have to storm the gates; he didn't have to take over. _He was already there_."

Finished speaking, all the strength he'd found seemed to leave Master Sifo-Dyas again, leaving him exhausted on the mattress, flat on his back, and trying to force his breathing back into an even rhythm. Master Dooku promptly fussed over him, making him drink more tea and eat the last of the snacks.

“We definitely need to contact the High Council with this information immediately,” Master Dooku said quietly once his _riduur_ had recovered somewhat. “It cannot wait for your return to the Temple.”

Master Sifo-Dyas let out a very small, very frustrated sigh.

Master Dooku made a small tsking sound. “I’ll do it. You connect me with your codes and I’ll speak with them and transmit the summary.”

“As awful as it was, none of it felt like it would happen _soon_ ,” Master Sifo-Dyas mumbled, his words growing a bit less distinct now that he had finished talking about the vision. He sounded a bit grumpy and his eyes were barely open. Even that looked like a struggle. He restlessly shifted under his blanket, and added, “I can feel it creeping closer. Like rot taking hold on a tree.”

A shiver visibly crawled up Master Sifo-Dyas’ body. 

Shuddering in revulsion himself, Waxer wrote down what he'd heard, and then carefully saved the document. Sometimes, he was reminded, having a near-eidetic memory was more of a curse than a blessing. He'd remember this far longer than he wanted to. _Force_ , was he glad he didn't have to deal with visions like that.

After a few minutes had passed, and the emotion flooding the room had calmed again somewhat, Waxer decided to pose the question that was nagging at him. "Did you intend to make that switch from 'they' to 'he', at the end, there?" He asked.

Master Sifo-Dyas blinked at him, confused. "What?"

"You started out without giving the figure a designation as male or female, but started referring to the being as 'he' halfway through," he explained. "Did you intend to do that?"

"No, no, it was male. Hooded, so that I couldn't make out any of his features, let alone determine what species he was or his origin, but definitely male and humanoid."

With a nod, Waxer added that to the end of the document and saved it again. "Was there anything else you wanted to add?"

Master Sifo-Dyas shook his head. "That's all of it."

"You have our thanks for your help, Waxer," Dooku added. "Go eat your meal, we have delayed you long enough."

"Even I could tell that was important," he replied dryly. "Don't worry about it, Master Dooku. I'm sure my _vod'e_ saved me a plate. "

He had a _lot_ to think about, and discuss with his _vod'e_. He had no doubt they would grill him until he spilled every last detail he could remember.

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

It had felt like an eternity had passed between the moment of stunned surprise and alarm that had slammed through the network, coming from Waxer, and his re-emergence from the room.

Boil, in particular, had found it difficult to wait patiently, even with their _vod_ 's reassurances that he was fine. A couple of less intense jolts had shivered through them, over the course of the next ten minutes. The General and the Cadet had been more or less calm, sure that Waxer would call them if he needed them.

Cody hadn't been able to stop himself from imagining all the things that could have gone wrong while their _vod_ was on his own with a pair of _jetiise_ that they still didn't know well at all.

They both appeared to be exactly what they claimed, but Sith were known for being able to hide in plain sight, and Dooku, at least, had been a Sith in their timeline.

"Cody," Kenobi broke into his thoughts, "you're going to wear a hole on the floor, at this rate, and it's setting everyone else on edge. What's bothering you so about the situation?"

"Well, General--"

The door opened, and Cody cut himself off. What he'd been about to say wasn't something he wanted to voice in front of Master Dooku.

"Ah, Waxer," Kenobi said, sounding just a little bit relieved himself, "there you are."

Waxer snorted. "Missed me, did you, General?"

"Some of us sure did," Boil replied, and stepped in close so he could grab his _riduur_ 's hand and haul him away from the door. "The others are just curious."

The relief coming from Boil was flooding the network, and all of them were gradually relaxing. Now that they had eyes on their _vod_ again, the need to get into the room to check on him was receding. 

Dooku, who'd followed Waxer out of his bedroom to retrieve the snacks the _vod'e_ had had brought up for his "good friend", gave Boil a knowing look. "I'm certain they are," he commented, then had to brace himself as the Cadet all but tackled him.

"Master Doo! What happened? I felt Waxer get real upset," he asked, intently. Cody could feel him all but vibrating in the network, and could sympathise. That was about how he'd felt while Waxer had stayed closeted with the two _jetiise_.

"Nothing happened, youngling," Dooku told him. "Waxer was startled by what Master Sifo-Dyas Saw."

It was Helix's turn to give him a knowing look. "I'm certain he was," he replied. "Come, join us. You look like you're all but dead on your feet."

This was one more situation Cody had never expected he'd ever himself in, and nor had any of his _vod'e_ , if the slight hint of unease he could feel coming from them was any indication. But then, if they could recruit this particular _jetii_ to their cause, as the General thought they might be possible, they should definitely do it, Cody felt. And if that meant letting Helix fuss over Count _kriffing_ Dooku, then so be it. He'd support his CMO. 

Cody nodded. "We were waiting for Waxer, but there's space for one more."

Master Dooku looked torn. "I should comm the Council--"

"You should eat," Helix cut him off, firmly, "so that you have the strength to deal with any further issues, as they come up."

The statement got a tired chuckle out of the Master. "Very well, I surrender," he quipped. “Dealing with the High Council can wait until I am properly fortified. I don’t expect it will be a long comm, but...”

“But it’s the High Council,” The General said with a knowing kind of resignation.

Master Dooku smiled wryly at him and nodded.

Helix relaxed a little. "I accept your surrender," he shot back in kind. "I'm glad we had this little talk. Am I going to have to use force?"

Dooku chuckled, clearly amused by the idea that any ten-year-old -- even a _vod_ \-- would be so confident as to believe they could coerce a Master _jetii_ into anything. "No, no. That won't be necessary."

Cody said nothing. He'd learn. The hard way, if needed. Helix could be implacable to one hell of an intimidating degree, when he chose.

With a nod, Helix pointed imperiously at the table in the dining area. "You know what to do then, I presume."

The Cadet suddenly went almost limp where he was pressed against Dooku's leg, and Cody belatedly realised how tense the little one had been. Likely responding to their own tension. "My _vod'e_ are smart," he declared, and Master Dooku ruffled his hair a little in response. 

"They are," he agreed. "And Helix has made a very good point. I shall not linger, though. Master Sifo-Dyas can take care of himself, to be sure, but he always recovers better when he has someone to assist."

Cody stored _that_ little bit of intel away to dissect later. It would be interesting to see what his troopers had to say about it. Waxer and Boil were sure to chalk it up as further evidence that the two Masters were in a relationship.

He had to admit, it did seem to support their argument. Master Dooku wasn't one to let just anyone see him show weakness, and nor was Master Sifo-Dyas.

Rather than sit down to join them immediately, Master Dooku gently peeled Obi-Wan off him, and made certain that his "friend" had those snacks they'd procured, first.

He wasn't about to get much peace, though. The moment he'd reappeared and picked out a chair to sit in, Obi-Wan was glued to his side again. It got to the point where the little one insisted on being held by the Master all through their meal.

Cody had had to bite down on his amusement more than once as the Master awkwardly ate around the little one, and tentatively responded to the chatter that got more and more relaxed as the meal went on.

After he'd cleared his own plate, Master Dooku turned right around and surprised the hell out of him again, though, making sure that the Cadet had had enough to eat before he declared his own meal done.

Helix caught his eyes then, bold as brass, and nodded. "Better."

The comment got an amused huff out of the _jetii_. "I suppose it is, at that," he agreed. "I must see to Master Sifo-Dyas. I would leave Obi-Wan in your capable hands, if you'd be willing to entertain him."

"That won't be a problem," Cody responded immediately.

"Get some rest, Master Dooku," General Kenobi added. "We'll make sure Obi-Wan is taken care of."

The Master handed the little one off to Boil and stood, his movements slow and deliberate. Tired. Once he was on his feet, he gave them all a shallow bow. "Then I wish you all a good rest. If you should wish to stay here, that is well within your rights. I owe you all a debt."

Before any of them could come up with the words to respond to that properly, he'd vanished back into the bedroom without giving the Cadet a chance to latch onto him again. The door closed firmly behind him, though it didn't lock. After a few seconds they heard the indistinct rumble of Dooku's voice as he followed through and made the comm call he'd put off long enough to join them for their meal.

Waxer watched the closed door thoughtfully for a moment, then suggested, "Maybe we should head back to our suite. Cadet, are you staying with us again this rotation?"

Obi-Wan considered that, looking torn. "I-- If I stay with you, then I won't be here to help Master Sy," he said, after a moment, sounding like that was something he felt was really important, but he didn't quite dare as much outright, "an' if I stay here, you can't help keep the sad dreams away."

Kenobi nodded, expression understanding, and Cody saw the decision coming almost before his General had made it. " _Vod'e_?"

Cody nodded. "Guess we're bedding down here for the night," he agreed.

Without a word, Helix started typing on his wristcomm. Presumably to let their _buir_ know where they'd be bunking.

Cody left him to it. "Is there enough room for everyone, Cadet?" He asked the little one, implicitly offering him something to do.

Obi-Wan seized on it gratefully. "Hmmm, let's find out!"

Boil and Waxer were immediately recruited for the job, and Cody watched, feeling the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. The pair of _Vod'e_ stumbled over their own feet as the Cadet physically dragged them into the bedroom he'd officially been given for the duration of his stay on Mandalore.

"I think you'll find he has a very optimistic view of just how many of us can fit in that little room," General Kenobi said after a beat, sounding amused.

Despite the events of the past couple of hours, the eight of them were getting back to normal, and that was a relief not just for the fact that the network was steadier, but also because it meant they were getting better at regulating its responses. Conscious control of it was still a ways off, and until they'd figured out how to shield the way Kenobi did, they'd be a bit vulnerable to its fluctuations. But this was progress, and faster than Cody had truthfully expected to see it.

Bringing himself back on topic, Cody brushed away the General's concern. "Waxer and Boil will handle it," he said. "If need be, we can drag his mattress out here and spread ourselves out on the other available surfaces. The sofa is comfortable enough."

"It may have to be," the General said with a sigh, as both Waxer and Boil went a bit skeptical in the network in the face of Obi-Wan's continued enthusiasm. "Now that we've agreed to stay here, we won't be getting out of it."

Cody scoffed. "We don't need to. Longshot?" 

"Sir." The _vod_ came to attention automatically.

"If there's an empty suite nearby, we'll borrow a second mattress for the rotation," Cody decided.

With a grin, their marksman nodded, his unvoiced appreciation for the move clear. "Roger that, Commander. Come on, Crys."

Kenobi watched the pair of _vod'e_ leave the suite, then turned to Cody and gave him an expressively exasperated look. "You always have an answer for that sort of logistical issue, don't you."

"I try to." Cody shrugged, doing what he could to hide how pleased he was with the General's reaction to his resourcefulness. He was fairly certain it hadn't worked, but that was okay. Kenobi wouldn't mind it. "What concerns me rather more than our sleeping arrangements is finding out what made Waxer so..."

When he let the words trail off Kenobi supplied, "Freaked out?"

Before he could reply, Waxer, Boil, and the Cadet were coming back out of the small guest bedroom. Waxer looked a bit dubious. "I'm really not sure we'll fit, Cadet," he was saying.

"I'm with Waxer," Boil added his own support to his _riduur_ 's words. "We definitely won't all fit on your bed, Obi-Wan, and we can't just sleep in a pile on the floor. That would hurt."

The General caught Cody's attention and nodded as if to say, "you see?".

Cody ignored the silent commentary for the moment. "Longshot and Crys are hunting down a second mattress. If you three can bring that one out here, we should be reasonably comfortable. It won't be as good as being in our bed, but we can make it work."

The Cadet perked right back up again, hearing that, and promptly dragged his two chosen _vod'e_ back into the guestroom.

Wooley chuckled. "It'll be a while before he's calm enough to sleep."

"Probably," Helix agreed. "But I'm pretty sure he'll crash hard, once he finally does."

The General put in, wryly, "I can't say the lot of you don't look about as tired as he likely is, right now."

"We spent the day on high alert in town, then trained, and had to deal with the adrenaline rush and crash of seeing Master Sifo-Dyas collapse like that," Helix shot back. "Of course we're-- of course we're tired."

Feeling Helix's exasperation, Cody was sure their medic had just bitten down hard on the need to swear, and had to smile. "I don't feel tired right now, but I'm sure it'll hit us hard soon," he put in. They all knew just how that kind of come-down worked.

Depending on how long they managed to stay awake, once they were bedded down, they might have to save Waxer's debriefing for the next rotation.

About the same time that Waxer and Boil managed to wrestle the Cadet's mattress out into the sitting room, Crys and Longshot reappeared with a second, and Obi-Wan seemed to light up.

As though he'd doubted this whole thing would work out in his favour, that they could make it work. Cody had to work not to shake his head. The lengths he and his _vod'e_ would go to for their General, no matter his age, were lost on the little one. And, on reflection, that might well be a good thing.

It took Waxer and Boil less than a minute to hunt down enough linens to make the pair of mattresses a comfortable surface, and then the Cadet was immediately doing his best to bounce into the center of the surface and lie down.

"Come on, _vod'e_ ," he tried to persuade them to join him, patting at the surface, "it's nice an' comf'table."

Wooley and Helix both made amused sounds. Crys gave the Cadet a skeptical look. "No bed is ever truly comfortable before you've brushed your teeth," he declared.

The Cadet gave Crys a similarly skeptical look in return. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Sure, lots of times. I kept thinking that I had to get up and brush my teeth," the _Vod_ replied, "so I couldn't enjoy it properly."

"Really?" The Cadet patted the surface again. "It's so nice, though."

"Really," Crys said firmly and offered the little one a hand up. "I'll come with you, come on."

"I guess," the Cadet accepted the hand. "But we have'ta come right back."

Crys pretended surprise. "We do? Why?"

"Because."

Crys raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't push, leading the Cadet off toward the suite's 'fresher instead. "If you say so, Cadet. I'm sure my _vod'e_ will save us a spot."

As the 'fresher door closed, Cody heard the Cadet say, "The best spot's gone fast."

Longshot snickered. "Odds that the Cadet means Waxer?"

Helix shook his head. "My creds are on the Commander."

Kenobi shrugged. "I'd thought he just wanted to be in the middle."

Under other circumstances, Cody would have been handing out reprimands to the _di'kut'e_ openly betting on the actions of their superior officers shamelessly, like that, _while two of the three involved parties were present_. But they weren't aboard the _Negotiator_ , in the GAR, in republic space, or even in the right karking _year_ , and General Kenobi was finally starting to accept that he was one of them. Not just to believe it when they said that they considered him such, but actually beginning to count himself one of them, and it showed in his response.

And then Kenobi's words registered fully. _Much like someone else we know, eh, General?_ Cody thought. "Waxer," he asked, changing the topic and taking advantage of the moment of relative privacy, "if the Cadet's asleep fast enough, we should debrief."

Helix jumped in. "You worried us all. What was it that upset you?"

Waxer winced, and got Cody's full attention in response. "I'm not sure it's a topic we should be discussing around Obi-Wan, even if he's asleep when we do. It could wake him and distress him, if it makes the network respond the way I think it might."

That meant it was something _big_ , whatever it was.

Kark.

"We'll have time to ourselves next rotation, after the early meal," Cody suggested. " _Buir_ might come looking for more advice from us, but given what just went down in the training yard and its aftermath, I think we can justify taking the time to recover, ourselves."

Waxer smirked. "Devious, Commander. We won't need the time off, but everyone around _buir_ will be glad to see us take it, and we can use it to talk this through."

Helix nodded. "That's not a bad idea."

Wooley hesitated. "I might have to leave for my lesson with Ardanna."

"That's a non-issue," Cody told him. "And we -- probably -- won't need that long."

"Why are you still in your armour, _vod'e_?" Obi-Wan asked, a bit plaintively. "You're supposed to be on the bed."

Grinning, Longshot went down on one knee in front of the little one. "We wanted to make sure you could pick the best spot, Cadet," he said, and got a blinding smile in return.

The little one waited impatiently until they'd stripped down, and then Obi-Wan flung himself at Longshot and dragged him towards the mattresses, as the rest of them snickered. He arranged Longshot to his satisfaction, off to the left of the center of the improvised bed, then turned to Crys, and pointed to a spot behind Longshot. "You belong there," he said firmly. "You always have Longshot's back."

A bit startled to hear a phrase like that coming from the Cadet, Cody blinked at him. "That's what _Vod'e_ do, Cadet," he said. "We take care of our own."

Obi-Wan nodded solemnly, accepting that. "Yeah, but you're always keeping watch on Ben. Waxer and Boil do that for each other. Helix watches everyone. Some _vod'e_ have a partner. Like Master Sy and Master Doo."

That... Cody blinked some more. That couldn't mean--

He met Kenobi's eyes without really meaning to, meeting his General halfway, and got a slight embarrassed smile and a shrug.

The Cadet grinned. "See? Just like that."

Waxer laughed. "I _knew_ it. None of you believed me, but I was right."

Wooley shook his head at all of them, and started to move toward the mattress. "Sure, _vod_ ," he agreed, "this time."

"No, not yet," Obi-Wan stood up and barred his way. "Helix first."

Boil outright laughed at the look of consternation that crossed Wooley's face, echoing the burst of exasperation in the network. "Why don't you just tell us where we should be, Cadet," he suggested, "then we'll be in place faster."

The General, a bit more embarrassed than before -- but still smiling -- nodded. "A good idea, Boil. Go on, Obi-Wan."

The little one considered that for a moment, then shook his head. "I know a better way," he declared, and then Cody felt that familiar-unfamiliar touch in the network again. He was getting accustomed to feeling it, as he was Wooley's, but it was still a bit uncanny. His-General-but-not-his-General reached for all of them, and then there was an image of them, casually sprawled out on the mattress but all clearly watching over one another even while deeply asleep, forming in his mind. He and the General were bracketing the little one, in the center of the tangle, with Helix at Cody's back, and Crys at the General's. Wooley was back-to-back with Helix, and Waxer was draped over Boil's chest, with his right arm pressed against Cody's shins.

Kenobi made a surprised sound. "Where did you learn how to do that, youngling?" He asked, astonished.

"Saw you do it in a dream," the Cadet answered easily. "Or maybe it was Cody. The network showed me how."

With a shake of his head, the General smiled ruefully. "I should've guessed," he said, then turned to the _vod'e_. "Well, you got what you asked for. We should get settled in."

Helix snorted. "That'd be easier if you went first, General," he pointed out. "The Cadet has us all arranged around the pair of you."

"You always did prefer to lead from the front, sir," Cody put in, and got an expression in reply that bordered on a pout.

 _Kark._ He thought helplessly. _That expression's devastating, no matter what age he is._

Helix gave the General a nudge, physically turning him towards the mattress, and the pair of very amused _Vod'e_ watching the scene unfold from there.

To Cody's relief, after that, they were settled fairly quickly. It went far faster than it would have had the Cadet maneuvered them into place one by one, and all of them were much happier once they were in physical contact again. It calmed them substantially, and, without really intending it, most of the _vod'e_ were asleep almost before the Cadet. Waxer, apparently quite tired, was one of the first to drop off with a half-apologetic touch to Cody in the network.

They'd worry about the debrief later.

For now... Cody let himself wrap his arms a little tighter around the Cadet, enjoying the content glow that the little one radiated in the network. For now, their first priority was rest. And after the early meal they'd have plenty to talk about.


	39. Chapter 39

\---POV: Yan Dooku ---

When Yan woke up the next morning, Sy was still deeply asleep. That was good. The rest would do him wonders.

A quick mental probe told him that he was the first to wake for the day. He took a clean set of robes along and quickly tended to his morning ablutions. As expected, the moment he started making noise, the _vod'e_ woke. They'd slept piled together in the sitting room along with Obi-Wan on mattresses from who knew where.

The position they were in seemed... personal. Private. While the _vod'e_ didn't immediately get up when he walked by, Yan could feel their eyes on him. Ben still had them all heavily shielded, so none of their emotions leaked into the Force. That did nothing to stop Yan from feeling like just being awake and in the same room with them when they were so disheveled from sleep was an intrusion. 

In deference to them, he didn't linger. He slipped into the kitchen as quietly as he could and started making both tea and caff. On a whim, he started making the Mandalorian spiced caff recipe that Jango had mentioned. A small repayment for the help the _vod'e_ had given him and Sy. As the water heated, he started to put together a simple meal. He was a reasonable cook. Nothing he made would put him to shame. He did focus on foods that might be easier for Sy to eat, if he woke. 

Yan wasn't sure that he would, not in time for firstmeal anyways. 

He lost himself in the act of cooking, absently keeping tabs on the other Force signatures in the suite while he mulled over Sy's visions. They were harrowing. Where once he might have wondered if they were just a possible future, now he was more certain of their accuracy. Ben and the _vod'e_ came from a galaxy at war. Young Obi-Wan had mentioned brothers in white and blue armor and the _vod'e_ had recognized the description. Waxer had looked stunned the previous night when Sy had described an older Obi-Wan talking to a blond _vod_.

To his surprise, he and Sy had been able to get in touch with the High Council right away. He’d half expected that he would need to leave a recording for them with the relevant information. Master Yoda, Master Windu, Master Fisto, and Master Plo had all answered immediately and then had insisted that he wait while the rest of the Council was summoned.

They’d taken the news better than Yan had expected. 

He’d _expected_ outright dismissal. 

It had happened in the past. The High Council had certainly ignored Sy’s visions about the Protobranch solar storm. Forewarning could have saved so many, but half the Council hadn’t even believed him. The other half had looked at the risks of a rescue mission and the chances of anyone on planet believing them and had voted against action. Master Yoda in particular had been against it. After all, Force visions were hardly fact, and the future was always in motion. Yan took comfort only in the fact that it wasn’t a unanimous vote, and that some that had voted against action had already retired. 

Yan, Sy, and Sy’s master had tried to intervene anyways. Despite his misgivings, Master Yoda had joined them to help. They found very little success. They’d wasted precious time arguing the case with the Jedi Council and with the affected planet’s senator, who had been more interested in saving resources than saving lives. The solar storm had still killed most of the population; the Jedi rescue party had barely escaped with their lives.

The whole event had slightly shaken Yan’s faith in his Order and the Republic. And it was hardly an isolated event. The strength of Sy’s visions was unprecedented in the Temple, and the suspicion they were viewed with was enduring.

But perhaps that was changing. This time, the High Council had listened to all that Yan had to say, and what little Sy was still conscious enough to fill in. There had been no protests or snide comments. Only grim silence. Yan knew from his continued correspondence with Master Plo and from what Sy had shared with him that Master Gallia’s investigations into the Senate had been unpleasantly fruitful, though he didn’t have the details on that. Ben’s presence and the obvious truth of the war he’d come from was solid proof that they were headed towards Darker times. Sy’s latest round of visions only underscored that further.

Master Yoda had assured them that the High Council would take the warnings seriously, and promised to include Sy in a full meeting on the subject later, once Sy had recovered. To Yan’s additional surprise, before they’d signed off, Master Plo had very kindly offered well wishes for Sy, a sentiment that was echoed by Master Fisto, Master Yaddle, and Master Windu. Several of the other masters had nodded along as well.

It was an unexpected show of cordiality. Yan was certain he masked his surprise at it.

Despite that unusually positive meeting, Yan was beyond troubled. 

All of her life, Sy's master, Lene, had believed that the Sith would rise again and that the time of their return was at hand. Over the years, she'd taken Sy and Yan on several missions to examine remnants of the old Sith Empire and to hunt down artifacts. She'd devoted her life to studying their artifacts in an attempt to prepare for the inevitable darkness that would come. 

Clearly, she had been right to.

He took a breath and let go of his worry and fear. He was a Jedi Master. Sy was a Jedi Master. They were forewarned. Even if the High Council did nothing, between the two of them they could accomplish quite a lot, and he knew Sy was just as inclined to act as he was. Ben Kenobi's mere existence in their time, displaced from thirty years in their future, was the closest they were ever likely to get to a direct intervention in such things as mortal politics by the Force itself. 

Yan was painfully aware that the Force sought balance between the Light and the Dark. The Guardians within the Order and the Shadows tended to tread far closer to that line than any of its other members. The others were far too steeped in the Light to even see the Dark. But Yan... he knew he was far greyer than most Jedi. Perhaps too grey for his own Master's comfort. He knew intimately how the Dark could call, could tempt a knight to Fall. And in that context, for the Force itself to act, to send them a Master as firmly seated in the Light as Ben was, was far more than a simple hint that things had swung out of balance and in the Dark's favour. Combined with Sy's visions of a karking _Sith Lord_ on Coruscant... Yan winced. Whatever was going to happen in the next few decades would not be pleasant. 

Shaking off his thoughts, he set up a tea and caff service at the dining table. It would be a bit of a squeeze, but they would all fit. He didn't bother setting a place for Sy. Even if Sy woke, Yan had no plans on letting him get up off of the couch, at best. 

By the time he was finished, Helix and Boil had found their way to the table and had latched onto cups of spiced caff like they were filled with liquid platinum. 

Yan nodded to them in greeting and went back to his preparations. It was very early still and not everyone enjoyed speaking before their morning drink. Judging by the nod and wave he got back from them, his guess was on target. 

There were more sounds of people slowly waking. Yan made extra of everything. Younglings ate a great deal. Raising two teenage padawans had taught him that. Besides, he'd seen the _vod'e_ eat. 

"Need a hand?" Crys said from the doorway.

Yan looked over in surprise, and then nodded. "Pick out what sauces and jams you all enjoy. There is a variety." He waved towards the pantry. "There will be toast, baked egg, and sausage."

Crys made himself useful, and soon Longshot and Waxer joined him. He had them start cutting up fruit. On a whim, Yan started to make a sweetened grain mash. It was a recipe from Serenno he'd picked up. Once he'd gotten in touch with his sister, he spent a great deal of time learning about his homeworld. It wasn't possible for him to be too close to her. The Council would never allow it. Learning his sister's favorite dishes helped him feel connected.

The cooking continued in silence, broken only by Yan directing the younglings to where their help was needed. 

By the time everything was ready, Obi-Wan was very groggily seated at the table, sandwiched between Ben and Cody. Yan poured a cup of fruit juice and set it down in front of the youngling.

Yan took his seat and everyone dug in with a gratifying amount of enthusiasm.

"Thank you for making breakfast, Master Dooku," Ben said with a polite nod.

"Thank you for your help yesterday, and for keeping an eye on the little one," Yan replied. 

"This is really good," Wooley said, already three bites into the sweet grain mash. "What is it?"

"Belore," Yan said. "It is my sister's favorite breakfast dish."

The rest of them stopped to stare at him in surprise. Truthfully, Yan wasn't quite sure what had actually spurred him into mentioning it. Perhaps it was how he'd found the group of them sleeping. They'd allowed him to see them vulnerable. Granted, they'd done it for Obi-Wan's benefit, but that didn't make it any less a sign of trust, albeit a forced one. 

It seemed like fair play to allow them one of his own weaknesses in return. They were too honorable to do anything dangerous with the knowledge. Not unless he proved himself an enemy. Which was likely the same way they viewed the act of lowering their guard enough to dare spend the night in his suite together and actually sleep.

"You have a sister, Master Doo?" Obi-Wan asked, or attempted to ask while also eating a large chunk of melon. 

"Chew and swallow before you speak, if you please," Yan gently chided him. Obi-Wan made a concerted effort to get through the piece of fruit before repeating his question.

"I do. Jenza. She lives on Serenno," Yan said.

Ben exchanged a furtive look with Cody, which Yan ignored. He was used to the subject of family being taboo among the Jedi. 

"Oh. Do you get to see her, like I see my _vod'e_?" Obi-Wan asked.

Kark, but the little one homed in on delicate subjects with disturbing ease.

"I do not," Yan said quietly. He bit back on the first thing that came to mind after that. About how Master Yoda had forbidden him to speak to his sister when he was younger, and how Sy and Master Lene had helped him stay in contact anyways. 

"Why not?" Obi-Wan looked distraught. "Do you want to see her?"

Yan used the time it took him to take a sip of his tea to consider his words carefully. 

"My Master was, and is, concerned that close contact with my family might interfere with my duties as a Jedi Master," Yan said finally. "My birth father is the ruler of Serenno, and he is a cruel, unpleasant man. If the Council were to give me permission to speak with Jenza, it could drag me, and by extension the Jedi Order, into fights that various people have with my birth father. Gora is particularly hard on those who are Force sensitive. If he knew that his daughter was speaking with me, then her life would be significantly more difficult.” 

That wasn’t even taking into account how little Master Yoda thought of any Jedi potentially having allegiances to something other than the Force. It was a wise concern. The Jedi _could not_ afford to be biased, nor could they allow themselves to hold the safety and welfare of an individual or small group over the will of the Force. There was also the matter of how seductive such ties could be. Little allowances became minor transgressions with further justified major breaches of ethics. The Dark Side actively called to Force users, and it took a strong knight to resist it.

Yan believed he had that strength. Master Yoda didn’t want to run the risk that he didn’t. After all, a single Dark Force user could cause an unimaginable amount of ruin. Some small, secret part of Yan also wondered if perhaps Master Yoda also simply didn’t want to see his former padawan face such difficult choices. As demanding as Master Yoda could be, he was also very soft hearted in some ways.

But understanding his old master’s logic did not mean that Yan agreed with it.

“I have been advised to never contact her," he finished with a slight shrug.

'Advised' was putting it rather lightly. He'd been outright ordered to, under threat of censure. Not that Yan had actually _followed_ that particular order. That was something that only he, Sy, and Master Lene knew, though. 

Obi-Wan looked heartbroken. He stared at his plate for a minute and then looked up at Yan. "Do you wanna hug?"

Yan could not help but smile, just a little. "I appreciate the offer, Obi-Wan, but no, thank you. Try some of the belore and tell me how you like it."

The meal continued in silence for a few minutes. Yan could tell the rest of them were considering his words. It wasn't common knowledge that Yan was originally from a noble family, though he had been teased often enough during his crèche days for his aloof nature. 

"Do you think Master Sifo-Dyas will be up and around today?" Helix asked.

Yan quickly reached out with his mind to test how well Sy was sleeping. Very well, it seemed.

"Yes, I think so. Though he won't be very active," Yan said. "Yesterday's vision wasn't as bad as it could have been, and between Ben and I, we were able to lend him a great deal of energy, which will help him to recover quickly." 

He nodded in thanks to Ben, who returned the gesture.

"Visions can be difficult," Ben said. 

Yan hummed in agreement and slowly picked at his meal. He needed to eat to regain his strength, even if his appetite was lacking. This was also a convenient excuse to ignore the dark scowl that Cody was throwing Ben's way, and the patently fake innocent look that Ben was giving back. Yan wasn't certain what it was that the little Commander disapproved of so strongly, but his feelings on the matter didn't seem to bother Ben whatsoever.

"Sy's visions are, by and large, very accurate," Yan said.

"May I ask what he saw?" Ben inquired.

Yan raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then glanced at Waxer. "You didn't tell them?"

Waxer turned red and very studiously looked down at the table. "It was late, we were all tired, and I didn't want to upset Obi-Wan," he muttered.

Ah. That would explain it. 

"Yes. That was probably wise," Yan conceded. "In brief, Sy saw something of the war you all came from, I think. A galaxy wide conflict rampaging all the way to Coruscant. More disturbing was the fact that he saw a Sith Lord."

Yan stared into nothing as he sipped his tea. A Sith Lord on a throne. Meaning that the Sith _had_ a throne to sit on.

"What did they look like?" Ben asked. There was a sharpness to his gaze.

Yan smirked sardonically. "You wish to compare notes?"

He wasn't above trying to get a bit of information while they were talking. It wasn't truly a barter; Waxer would be grilled on what he'd recorded for Sy the moment the rest of the _vod'e_ had a chance to question him, of that Yan was sure. 

It was more of a pointed reminder that Yan would very much like to know what kind of disaster they were all headed towards in an effort to avert it. 

Ben spent a long moment watching him. Though his expression was closed off, it was obvious to Yan that he was debating what to say.

Finally, he acquiesced with a nod. "If Master Sifo-Dyas' description matches anyone I am familiar with, I will tell you, so that we can do something about them."

Yan accepted the compromise with a small shrug. That was enough of a concession, he supposed. "There is not much to share, alas," he said, resigned. "A dark hooded figure. Yellow eyes. Humanoid in size and appearance. Physically hunched over but very powerful, regardless." He tapped his finger against the side of his tea cup and a slight frown tugged at his lips. "That is not the distressing part. No, Sy's strongest impression of the Sith was that he was deeply entrenched long before he took power. 'He was already there'," he quoted. 

The _vod'e_ shifted anxiously and Obi-Wan watched them all with wide eyes, chewing thoughtfully through his meal. Ben had gone a shade paler than normal. 

"Something about this strikes true with you," Yan observed. He didn't bother asking for more information. Ben would either give it or he wouldn't.

"It has to be the Sith Lord," Ben muttered, leaning back in his chair, his meal forgotten. 

Yan raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "We have established that, yes."

Wooley smothered a laugh with a fake cough.

"No," Ben said, shaking his head. He crossed one arm over his chest and tapped his chin with the knuckles of his other hand. It was a pose that Yan had seen often enough in the Council room when Ben was planning.

Yan waited him out, sipping his tea. When it looked like Obi-Wan was too distracted watching Ben think, Yan tapped his own plate to get Obi-Wan's attention and then pointedly looked from Obi-Wan to his still unfinished breakfast. Obi-Wan quickly started eating again, though he was at least half watching Ben as well.

"In the time we came from, we were aware of a few Sith," Ben said finally. "We knew that they were all apprentices. Powerful, yes, but all answered to a hidden master... _oh_."

He went from simply pale to deathly white, and all the air seemed to flee him. All of the _vod'e_ snapped to attention, and Obi-Wan made a small, worried sound.

"He knew," Ben whispered. "He knew all along and he _told me_ and I didn't believe him."

"General," Cody said, low and worried.

Ben covered his mouth with his hand and very visibly pulled himself together. He very carefully picked up his tea cup, as though the delicate bone china would shatter if it wasn't handled with the utmost care. 

"Right before the start of the war, I was very briefly held captive by a former Jedi," he explained. Oh, Yan did not like the sound of that. "He'd Fallen, though I hadn't quite realized the extent of his Fall at the time. He told me that a Sith Lord had control of the Republic and had influence over hundreds of senators. I didn't believe him. But... Master Sifo-Dyas' vision, if it's true, then-- then he knew all along. He wasn't lying. He even tried to tell me."

Ben and the _vod'e_ all looked sharply at Yan. 

There was something important here that none of them were willing to speak of.

"I notice you haven't named the Fallen Jedi," Yan said with a raised eyebrow. The silence that followed his statement was heavy and tense. He hummed and sipped his tea. "That means that the Jedi in question has not Fallen yet, and it is likely that I am familiar with them. After all, if they had already absented themselves from the Order, here and now, then it seems likely you would be willing to warn the Council, which implies that they are currently a Jedi of good standing. But the future is always in motion." He said that last line with the bitter, sarcastic tone that it deserved. 

They all watched him with dangerous intensity. The _vod'e_ weren't as good as hiding it as Ben was, but every one of them exuded focus and readiness. 

Yan narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair as he thought it through. 

"Definitely someone I know, then. Someone you think you can save," he said that last bit with a hint of question in his voice. There was a nearly imperceptible change in Ben's countenance. 

A hit, then.

"Admirable, Master Kenobi," Yan said quietly. There was a touch of a smile on his face, but he felt it came out sharper than he'd intended. Ben was playing a very dangerous game here, and they all knew it. Yan wasn't quite sure he approved, but he was also dead certain that his approval mattered not at all.

Something in the way Yan said that made Ben twitch. The tension soared about ten degrees higher.

Oh, that left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. 

"Master Doo?" Obi-Wan asked very softly. His voice was high and worried, and he kept looking back and forth between them all.

Yan mentally swore at himself, and then very deliberately allowed his manner to gentle. 

"Everything will be alright, Obi-Wan," he said with a soft smile. "There is no trouble between us. Ben and your _vod'e_ have things they would rather not speak of, and I very callously prodded at them. I did not intend my words to upset them."

"Oh." Obi-Wan glanced between Ben and Cody, and then back to Yan again. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

Poor child. Sy would kick Yan across the room for disturbing the little one so. 

"I am very sure," Yan assured him. "No harm will come to anyone here through my actions, and I have every faith that Ben and his _vod'e_ will do their best to protect you, and everyone else who they feel deserves such care."

Perhaps that was a bit of cautious wording, but it was for Obi-Wan's sake. Yan knew that Ben and the _vod'e_ didn't trust easily and something told him that being presumptuous about that trust was a good way to forever lose even the possibility of gaining it. 

Judging by the sharp looks he got from them, they'd noticed the wording, and the implication that Yan trusted them to protect him if they felt he was worthy of that trust, or not to if they didn't. 

Yan was in no rush to force their hand. Whatever future they'd come from was decades from now. In the meantime, he could phrase the assurance this way so that Obi-Wan would feel the truth of it and be put at ease.

That seemed to do the trick. Obi-Wan relaxed a little more. The little worry wrinkle between his eyebrows went away and was replaced with a more thoughtful expression. 

" _Vod'e_? Ben?" Obi-Wan poked Ben's side. "Do you need a hug?"

Apparently, Ben took too long to answer, because Obi-Wan leaned halfway out of his chair to cling to Ben's side. He _radiated_ love and comfort in the Force. Kark, but it was potent. 

Even Ben's stoic control was no match for the youngling's earnestness and intensity. His expression softened and he wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan. "Thank you, Obi-Wan," he said quietly. "I'm fine now."

Obi-Wan gave him a look that was so purely dubious that Yan had to hide his mouth behind his cup to cover the smile. 

"You all aren't gonna start fighting, are you?" Obi-Wan said, and now the dubious quality to his tone was fortified by a healthy dose of disapproval. Crèche Master Tinna would be proud. "Because you had that fighty feel for a minute."

"My dear youngling," Yan said, setting his cup down. "If we were to break into a fight over the dining table, Master Sifo-Dyas would have all of our heads. It would be such terrible manners."

Truthfully, Sy would be disappointed in them, but only because they were fighting for no discernible reason. The faux-sternness of Yan's tone was something he knew made Obi-Wan laugh, though, so it was worth saying.

Obi-Wan giggled. Excellent. Mission accomplished. 

The _vod'e_ seemed to relax as well. Yan was rather impressed with how easily Obi-Wan was able to lighten everyone's mood. 

"You're going to make a wonderful diplomat one day, Obi-Wan," Yan said. 

For whatever reason, that made half the _vod'e_ snort with amusement, and Ben coughed lightly into his hand. 

"What's a dip-lo-mat?" Obi-Wan asked. 

"Someone who talks to other people to help them solve problems with words instead of blasters," Helix explained.

Obi-Wan made a silent _oh_ expression. 

To encourage them all to go back to their meals, Yan picked up his own fork and continued eating. That seemed to remind the rest of them that food was on the table. The atmosphere was still a trifle stilted, but not nearly so poised on a knife's edge as it had been.

"Master Dooku, how often does Master Sifo-Dyas get visions like this?" Wooley asked. 

Yan let out a quiet sigh. "With frequency, I'm afraid."

"Do all Force sensitives have visions?" Crys asked. 

A very relevant question, considering the testing for Force sensitivity Ben asked Yan to do on Crys, Longshot, and Waxer several weeks ago. 

"That depends on how you define a 'vision'," Yan said. "Those with a heightened connection to the Force are all predisposed to accurate leaps of intuition. For those less gifted, it manifests as hunches or gut reactions that prove useful. Most Jedi who have reached mastery have had at least one or two visions, though for those not talented in that particular skill they are often short or difficult to interpret. A very few talented individuals are afflicted with them more frequently." He tilted his head in a half shrug. "Master Sifo-Dyas has more visions, in terms of power, clarity, and frequency, than anyone I have ever met. Or heard of. Except for perhaps young Obi-Wan, but I feel that has less to do with precognition and more to do with your unique circumstances."

Helix muttered something about 'overachievers' but kept the rest of his commentary to himself. Both Yan and Ben magnanimously elected to ignore it. 

"The first time a Jedi initiate travels to Ilum to collect a kyber crystal, they are nearly always gifted with a vision," Ben said. "It is a test, as the Force presents the initiate with something that they directly fear. What form that takes is often very telling, and can grant insight into future challenges."

"There are also some locations in the galaxy that are naturally strong in the Force. A vergence, or nexus. Walking into such a place often invites meddling from the Force. Visions are common for those who venture in," Yan said. 

Ben nodded. "Temples are often built over places that have those types of strong affinity in the Force. There's a major nexus under the Jedi Temple in Coruscant, for example."

"There is?" Obi-Wan bounced in his seat. "Can we go see it?"

Both Yan and Ben grimaced. That would be an absolute clusterkriff waiting to happen.

"I'm afraid that a Force nexus is a very dangerous place, Obi-Wan," Yan said. "The lower levels of the Temple are all sealed off, and for good reason. Perhaps after you are knighted, you may be able to convince the Council to allow you to investigate."

"Awwww." Obi-Wan sulked and poked at his fruit. 

Force, but whoever apprenticed that little one was never going to sleep. 

That realization was particularly unsettling given that he knew Sy was quite tempted to do just that. Which meant that Yan would be helping, which in turn meant that neither of them would be sleeping. 

He put it out of his thoughts. Obi-Wan's apprenticeship was a long way off. 

He felt a delicate brush against his mind.

Sy was awake.

"If you'll pardon me," he said, standing up. "Master Sifo-Dyas is up. I'm going to go bring him something to eat. Obi-Wan, finish eating your breakfast. Once I've helped Master Sifo-Dyas with another round of medication, you and I will be doing morning meditation."

"Yes, Master Doo. Can my _vod'e_ 'nd Ben join us? Meditation is more fun in groups."

From the looks of flat out disbelief on the faces of the _vod'e_ , this had not been their experience. Yan and Ben shared an amused look.

"If they would like to join us, I have no problem with that."

With that, he went back to the kitchen to assemble a tray and a fresh cup of tea. The rest of the younglings chatted amongst themselves; he was pleased to note that they kept their volume at a very tolerable level. So unlike _actual_ younglings. 

Without a word, Helix peeled off from the group to join him. Yan gave him a knowing look, but didn't object. It probably wouldn't be a bad thing for Sy to be checked out by a medic. Even if Yan did feel a trifle uneasy letting anyone near Sy when he was so incapacitated. 

Sy was sitting up in bed. He still looked like death warmed over and his expression was pained, but at least he was conscious. 

"Morning, Doo, Helix." Sy's voice was raspy and quiet. 

"Good morning, Sy," Yan replied with an equally low tone. Sy's head must be pounding. 

Helix walked right over to the bed and grabbed a small light from his belt. "How are you feeling, Master Sifo-Dyas?" he asked. Yan was pleased to see that he, too, was keeping his volume down. 

Sy allowed himself to be poked and prodded, even taking the light shining in his eyes with no complaints. 

"All things considered, I could be much worse," Sy said with a hint of his normal good humor. 

"That's not an answer." Helix glared at him. 

Yan busied himself with getting Sy's tea ready. 

Sy huffed out a small laugh. "Standard symptoms, Healer. I am weak and tired. Terrible migraine as well, but not so bad that I'm blacking out or vomiting. No bleeding from the nose or ears. The room is spinning only slightly, and I'm sure that's due to the migraine."

Helix stopped for a moment to stare at him in horror. "I can't tell if you're trying to be funny or not, because you seem to think this is amusing."

"I am being quite serious, though it is also a touch funny." Sy lifted one hand with great effort and gently patted Helix's arm. "I'm afraid my sense of humor is a bit warped. I apologize."

"You'll feel better once you take another dose of painkiller," Yan said. 

Sy closed his eyes and gave a very tiny nod. 

"Toast first." Yan guided Sy's hand towards a small piece of bread, which Sy ate mechanically. 

"You've had visions that leave you bleeding from the ears?" Helix asked. He'd moved on to taking Sy's pulse, or something of that nature. Yan wasn't sure exactly how non-Jedi healers worked. 

"Rarely," Sy admitted. 

Once the toast was gone, Yan lifted the cup of tea to Sy's mouth and helped him drink. Sy opened his eyes long enough to give Yan a dry look that said very clearly how much he thought Yan was overreacting. Yan just raised an eyebrow back at him in return and continued to see that Sy was taken care of. 

"Stroke?" Helix asked. "Aneurysm? Anything related?"

"No. Burst eardrums, and blood vessels in the sinuses." Sy smiled wryly at him. "I imagine that it would be rather counterproductive of the Force to grant me a vision so strong that it destroys my ability to think."

"No, just your ability to function for a day or two," Yan grumbled. 

Sy shrugged. 

Helix made a few notes in a datapad. "Is this something that happens to Obi-Wan? Should we be prepared to deal with this kind of vision with him?"

"Hmmm, no, likely not," Sy said. He accepted another piece of toast after Yan gave him a pointed look. "His visions seem to primarily be a sharing of Ben's life. He does not tell me about many of them, and I do not pry, but, based on what I know of you all, I _suspect_ that the majority of them are memories. However, I do think that there are genuine Force visions mixed in. So far, none of Obi-Wan's visions have left him physically impared, aside from loss of sleep and general anxiety and distress."

Helix's frown grew more pronounced. Sy placed a hand on Helix's arm and smiled softly at him.

"Helix, I will be cautious with him," he assured him quietly. "I am very familiar with the aftereffects of Force visions, and I have been supporting him. Moreover, I will continue to do so, as I see no reason to stop. He won't be alone. Sometimes that's the best thing you can do for someone who is thus afflicted. Remind them that they aren't crazy, they aren't damaged. No matter what his visions show him, he will have at least one person listening to him, and I will always offer him safety and support."

The last words rang with truth in the Force. Yan wondered if Helix could feel it, too.

Before Helix could say anything, Sy's expression turned more mischievous. 

"And," Sy added, "if the situation in the Temple were to ever become untenable for him, which I greatly doubt by the way, then I am sure that arrangements could be made for an extended family visit. I will also continue to update you on changes to his health, should you desire it, be it through Master Dooku, or directly."

Whatever Helix had expected to hear from Sy, that definitely wasn't it. For a moment, he looked torn between reactions. Only for a moment, though. Then his expression smoothed away into his normal business-like stoicism. 

"Thank you, Master Sifo-Dyas," he said with a courteous nod. 

Sy released Helix's arm and waved dismissively. It looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he sank back against the headboard of the bed and closed his eyes.

"Finish your tea and then you can take more painkiller," Yan said, pressing the cup towards Sy's hand.

"You put too much honey in it," Sy complained half-heartedly.

"You need the sugar, and you won't be able to stomach anything solid." It was an old argument, familiar in its repetition.

Sy dutifully downed the rest of his drink and took his pills without further complaint. 

Helix packed up his datapad and stood up. "Let me know if you feel any changes, or if you need anything else."

His words implied that he was speaking to Sy, but the way he was looking at Yan made it clear that it would be Yan's job to inform him if anything additional was needed. Yan found it rather amusing. Given what he'd seen of the interactions among the siblings, it actually made a lot of sense that their medic would use peer pressure to enforce proper behaviour among his patients. 

"I'll be up after the drugs kick in," Sy said.

Yan and Helix both glared at him.

"Ah, at ease!" Sy held up his hands in surrender. "I won't be moving much, just sitting on the couch."

"You should sleep." Helix kept up his glare.

Yan held back a wince. It was true. Sy _should_ sleep. It was also incredibly unlikely that he would be able to. Not if his visions had been as disturbing as they'd sounded.

"He'll be fine on the couch, Helix," Yan said. Better he step in than Sy try to explain that he'd rather not have screaming nightmares while he was still physically recovering. 

Helix turned his glare on Yan, the look intense enough that he almost thought it should have left behind a scorch mark somewhere, but didn't argue further. He just shook his head and walked out, probably internally swearing up a storm.

After the door clicked shut, Sy raised an eyebrow. 

"Tempestuous, isn't he?" Sy said blandly.

"Used to dealing with stubborn Jedi, I think," Yan answered, amused. "Come, let's get you presentable."

The whole process took more than a little effort, but the two of them managed. It was very clear when the painkillers kicked in, because Sy was able to take over most of the moving around, though he walked like every joint ached. Yan helped him with his hair, after which Sy shooed him out.

"Go. I'm fine," Sy said, pushing him towards the door. "I do this all the time by myself."

As if that would make Yan feel any better.

He didn't argue. He _did_ steal a kiss. Then took the dishes and dropped them in the kitchen. The _vod'e_ had done an admirable job of cleaning up, which he appreciated. His sitting room had been fully put to rights, and looked almost more immaculate than it had before they'd put Sy to bed. The mattresses that the _vod'e_ had produced out of thin air had vanished again, and Yan spared a moment to wonder if they often had to scavenge bedding for themselves. Something about the ease with which they'd pulled it off made the whole thing seem... Yan wasn't sure what the word for it was. The move smacked a bit too strongly of routine for his taste, as though the eight of them were _used_ to that sort of improvised sleeping arrangement, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what was making him think that.

The joyful, "Master Sy!" from the sitting area alerted him to the fact that Sy had made his way out of the bedroom. 

Yan finished readying another cup of tea and joined them.

"Easy, little one," Sy said with a laugh. Longshot had a hold of Obi-Wan's belt, keeping him from full on tackling Sy with a hug. Probably for the best, since Sy nearly collapsed down onto a couch. 

"You're up!" Obi-Wan flung up his hands in triumph. "Good job!"

"Thank you," Sy said, beaming at him. Yan smothered a laugh, and he was not the only one. "Tell me about breakfast. Did you try anything new?"

It was clearly a diversionary tactic, but it worked. Obi-Wan chattered on about the food and its flavor and texture, which then segued into their conversation about Sith Lords.

"-- And everyone was _grrr_ and there could have been a fire, but then there was more talking 'nd it was fine --" Obi-Wan rambled.

Sy made appropriate noises at various times, while the rest of them settled in. Several of them were still nursing their cups of caff, and Yan poured Ben another cup of tea.

He would have liked to pull Sy into his lap and hold him until he fell asleep. Yan put it out of his mind. Thinking about what couldn't be only fostered upset. 

Instead, he settled on the couch next to Sy. Close enough that he could pass along a cup of tea, but not improper. Longshot had finally released Obi-Wan, and the little one had climbed up to cling to Sy's side like a particularly tenacious vine. 

"-- And we got to sleep in the sittin' room here, 'nd it was really, really nice," Obi-Wan finished up. He gave Sy another squeeze. "I'm glad you're better."

"I am," Sy assured him. "Just a bit tired at the moment. I'm afraid that you'll have to be careful with me for a day or two, or if you want to play rough then you'll have to ask Master Dooku."

Obi-Wan immediately switched his attention to Yan and gave him a very speculative look.

"Thank you, Master Sifo-Dyas," Yan said a touch sarcastically.

"My pleasure, Master Dooku," Sy said with the same dry tone. 

A couple of the _vod'e_ snickered quietly. Yan just sighed, already resigned to his fate. 

"After lunch," Yan said sternly to Obi-Wan, before the youngling could get any ideas about immediately running around. "Then you and I will go out to the training yard and do drills. If you are very good, then we'll practice Force jumping."

Obi-Wan's eyes lit up. "Can we jump off the roof?"

Cody pinched the bridge of his nose, while Ben smirked. 

"Who will catch you, Cadet?" Cody asked. 

"The Force!" Obi-Wan replied immediately. 

"Exactly," Yan said with a nod. "You're a trifle too young to do such jumps alone, though. You and I will hold hands, and we'll start small and work our way up."

"I'm going to find you two falling off the highest tower in the city, aren't I?" Sy said, shaking his head.

"You did so kindly suggest that I take a hand in Obi-Wan's lessoning," Yan reminded him with his own brand of sharp false innocence. 

"Crèche Master Tinna is going to skin us," Sy muttered.

"This is gonna be so much fun!" Obi-Wan bounced in place. 

Yan smirked, satisfied with his victory. "Relax, Sy. It could be worse," he said as he stirred his tea.

"Mmm," Sy said, nodding. "It's true. The towers here aren't nearly as tall as the buildings on Coruscant."

"And the drop from the balconies here is only a few stories," Yan added. "Not like the master and padawan suites in the Temple."

"Easiest way to move things to a new room is from balcony to balcony," Ben added. "Everyone knows that."

Sy and Yan both nodded. 

"It's almost a rite of passage for the newly knighted," Yan said sagely. 

The _vod'e_ looked about ready to bang their heads against a wall. 

"You've jumped from balcony to balcony in the Temple?" Obi-Wan asked with awe.

"After I was knighted," Yan said firmly. "And if I find that you've attempted it before you've been knighted, I will be terribly disappointed." He followed up the threat with a stern look. 

Obi-Wan slumped in disappointment. "Aww."

"You _jetiise_ are all mad," Helix grumbled. 

Sy shrugged. It was a common enough sentiment, after all. 

"So initiates all stay in the crèches, but padawans don't?" Waxer asked.

Ben looked at him with mild surprise. "I suppose I've never spent much time explaining the arrangement, have I? Yes. The little ones are organized into clans, social groups if you will."

"I'm in Clan Thranta!" Obi-Wan said.

"We were both Hawkbat," Sy said, waving a finger between himself and Yan. 

"Clans are very important to Jedi, at least for the little ones," Yan said. "The friendships made in the crèches are often life-long."

Ben nodded. "There were several of my crèche mates who I was very close to. We are still friends, despite being stationed in very different parts of the galaxy."

"Alas, Yan and I were never particularly fond of our crèche mates, though the two of us have remained close since then," Sy said. 

"Initiates eventually get their own room, which they keep until they are chosen by a master or age out to join the Service Corps," Yan said, picking up the narrative. Sy cast him a tiny grateful glance. That meant he was more tired than he was pretending to be. "Most padawans stay in suites with their master, but some have their own room in the padawan dorm. If, for example, Master Plo Koon were to take a padawan, his padawan would have a separate room because Master Plo's suite is specially designed for his home atmosphere. It is one of the few places where he can take off his antitox ventilator safely."

Cody nodded. "That makes sense, especially given what we know about Master Plo."

It seemed more likely to Yan that Cody was speaking of knowledge they'd gained in the future. He decided not to prod at it. They'd already had enough tense conversations for the day.

Yan continued his lecture. "Once a padawan is knighted, they generally move out of their master's suite and into their own. Sometimes it doesn't happen right away. It depends on the partnership."

"I stayed with Master Lene for a few years after being knighted," Sy said. "My visions started when I was a teen, and neither of us wanted me to be alone."

"I, however, moved out of Master Yoda's suite as quickly as I possibly could," Yan said dryly. "While his species' preferred environment is habitable to humans, it was not terribly comfortable."

Ben grimaced. 

"Ah, clearly you have enjoyed that experience yourself." Yan smirked at him.

"I never had to stay for longer than a few hours," Ben admitted. "I'm not sure how you lived there."

Ah, so if Ben was in Yoda's lineage, he wasn't Yoda's direct padawan. That almost made Yan feel better about the terrible things that Ben had implied. Master Yoda wasn't a particularly easy-going master, but he wasn't as brutally cold as Ben's experiences seemed to hint. 

"He stayed with Master Lene and me, more often than not," Sy admitted.

Yan very much did _not_ react to that statement. He wanted to laugh. Sy was very deliberately riling the _vod'e_ up. 

Since that was meant to be a joint effort, Yan decided to throw some fuel on the fire. "As initiates, both of us wanted to be Master Lene's padawan learner. Her research is fascinating. She had interest in us both, but chose Master Sifo-Dyas. I was later chosen by Master Yoda."

"Not that it mattered. Master Lene did half your training herself, despite the rules about the one-to-one ratio for masters and padawans." Sy sipped his tea.

Yan just knew that Sy was dying to smirk. His sabacc face was too good to let it show.

"Master Yoda was busy with the High Council. It worked in our favor," Yan said with a dismissive wave. "Master Lene's areas of expertise were more to both of our liking. Regardless, we were speaking of rooms."

"There's more?" Wooley asked. He was looking back and forth between them like he was trying to keep score. 

"Indeed." Yan nodded gravely. "Many Jedi sent on missions are sent alone, or with their padawan learner. But some form pairs. They are often sentinels, sent to work in the most violent parts of the galaxy. Oftentimes they form a pair bond, a type of strong Force bond. It is not strictly approved of, but it is often ignored or allowed for those who spend more time in war zones than they do elsewhere. When such pairs return to the Temple, they often take up residence in the same suite."

The _vod'e_ 's interest spiked sharply.

"Really? That's allowed? I thought--" Crys stopped himself before he put his foot farther in his mouth.

Waxer shoved an elbow into Crys' side, and said, "What he means is, we'd heard that Jedi weren't allowed attachments like that."

Ben kept his eyes on his cup, and trailed a finger across the side. It was a nervous gesture. "My former padawan and I kept our bond up after he was knighted," he said. There was a hint of admonishment in his voice, as if he knew that the _vod'e_ were already jumping to wildly salacious conclusions. 

"As you were in a war, that seems reasonable," Yan said.

"The Council would look the other way in such a circumstance," Sy confirmed. "For those not actively working together in the field or training together, pair bonds are somewhat taboo."

"Taboo?" Helix asked with a frown. "How would they even know, if everyone is shielded?"

Yan allowed himself a grim smile. "No one's defense is perfect, all of the time, young one. Eventually, someone would slip up, and then the Council would be forced to take action."

"And do what?" Cody asked, looking mildly alarmed.

"Separate the two, probably," Sy said, "if not censure them. The Council might require the offending parties to diminish or outright break the bond. There would be an evaluation of the level of attachment, and likely a great deal of meditation required. Perhaps, if the breach was egregious enough, they might be cast from the Order. It depends on the situation."

"You are kriffing shitting me," Boil breathed out.

Waxer promptly slammed a hand over Boil's mouth, and glared at him. "The Cadet!" he hissed, glancing over to Obi-Wan.

Thankfully, Obi-Wan had long since become enthralled in a datapad. It was one of his learning modules that Sy brought with them.

Yan dismissed Boil's horror with a sniff. "It is nothing any of you need to worry about. Young Ben isn't actually in the Order, and therefore isn't bound by their restrictions." He raised an eyebrow to Ben, who turned a light shade of pink. 

"But Obi-Wan--" Boil started.

"Is five," Yan interrupted him. "He hardly needs to worry about potential pair bonds for quite some time."

That made Boil snap his mouth shut so quickly that his teeth clicked. 

"By that same token, I'm twelve, and hardly ready to think about pair bonding, myself," Ben countered.

"Are you?" Yan said archly. "I was given to understand that you were an adopted child of the _Mand'alor_. A prince, insofar as the _Mando'ad'e_ have such things. There are many, many cultures who arrange marriages for their royalty, often at startlingly young ages, if the match is particularly advantageous. Perhaps you should speak with Jaster and make sure that he isn't shopping around."

The outright horror on Ben's face was something Yan would treasure for years to come. The _vod'e_ weren't much better. It looked as if someone ran through the room and smacked everyone in the back of the head with a board. 

Yan wanted to cackle. This had clearly never once occurred to any of them. 

He managed to keep himself in check, only allowing a small smirk. From the slight twitch of Sy's mouth, he was in a similar situation.

" _Buir_ wouldn't..." Waxer started.

"Oh?" Yan kept the word to a politely inquiring tone. 

Of all of them, only Helix looked unconcerned. Waxer and Boil looked mildly relieved for some reason. Ben and Cody in particular were still struggling with words. Possibly because of their obvious pining. It was one thing to be near to a loved one and know that a relationship was not possible. It was another thing entirely to be promised to a total stranger in addition to that. 

"That's something we'll have to inquire about," Ben finally said. "Thank you for bringing that possibility to our attention."

"Happy to be of service." Yan raised his tea cup in a toast and took a sip. 

He set his cup down just in time to rescue Sy's from where he was loosely holding it. Sy was so tired that he hadn't noticed that he wasn't holding his cup properly.

"Thank you," Sy said, gratefully handing the cup off. 

Yan had hoped that the company and the tea would put a little color into his cheeks, but Sy still looked like a ghost. The circles under his eyes were so dark they looked painful. 

"You should be in bed, sleeping," Helix said stubbornly. 

Sy shook his head slowly. "Sleep wouldn't be helpful right now."

There was a bitter twist to his lips, turning his smile into something more like a grimace. 

"Nightmares," Ben stated. It wasn't a question. He was speaking from experience.

Sy gently nodded at him. He kept his head bowed and closed his eyes. The Force around him ached with his weariness. Perhaps Ben and Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to tell; Sy's shields were very good. Yan was long familiar with his every nuance; he could see the telltale signs of exhaustion.

"The mind still must process what it experiences," Sy said. He rubbed his eyes. "It generally passes within a few days."

There was no use arguing with him. Yan knew that from experience. Better just to wait him out and then try to help when he did finally sleep. 

As if the mere mention of nightmares has summoned Obi-Wan's attention, he finally looked up from his datapad. "Master Sy?"

"Yes, little one?" Sy cracked his eyes open to look down to where Obi-Wan was still cuddled up to his side.

"When I have scary dreams, my _vod'e_ help me sleep. We cuddle and it's safe and nice." 

"I know," Sy said, clearly not catching where Obi-Wan was going with this train of thought.

Obi-Wan cast a furtive glance towards the other younglings, and then looked back up to Sy. "We could all cuddle you 'nd then you'd be able to sleep."

The _vod'e_ winced. Sy just looked incredibly sad. 

"Cadet..." Cody started.

"It would help, I know it would!" Obi-Wan said plaintively. 

Sy ran his hand through Obi-Wan's hair. "Oh, Obi-Wan," he said softly. "That is a very kind thought. But I'm not sure that your _vod'e_ would be comfortable with that."

"But--"

"Hush, now. Your _vod'e_ allow you to share their personal space because they trust you and care for you. They do not know me, and we are not familiar enough with each other for them to trust me."

Obi-Wan frowned at him. "But you trust them."

"My instincts tell me to trust them with some things," Sy hedged. "You, for example. I trust them with you."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would you trust them with me and not with you?" Obi-Wan's frown deepened with hurt.

The exhaustion seemed to weigh down upon Sy. "Experience is sometimes a bitter teacher, Obi-Wan. I don't _not_ trust them with me. I just don't know them well enough yet. And just as important, it would be wrong of you to try and push them into doing something that they are uncomfortable doing, even if you think it would be for the best."

Yan was desperately grateful that Sy was awake to handle this particular explanation. He wasn't sure he would have been able to pull it off with quite the same amount of aplomb. 

Despite Sy's very solid effort, Obi-Wan's frown turned calculating. 

_Oh no_ , Yan thought to himself. 

"You really, really trust Master Doo," Obi-Wan said. "You two are best friends."

"Yes." Sy nodded.

"So, Master Doo will be here, 'nd he'll be awake. So you'd have someone you really, really trust to watch over you while you get hugged enough so you c'n sleep."

Sy opened his mouth to object, but then sat there, silent. 

Yan could only shake his head, impressed. This child was _five_. No five year old should be this good at working loopholes in conversation.

"That still doesn't address the fact that being so close to someone they are unfamiliar with might be very uncomfortable for your _vod'e_ ," Sy said, rallying. "Even if you were to coerce them into close contact with me when they didn't want it -- which would be wrong, and you should not _ever_ do that -- then I would still feel their discomfort in the Force."

A slight exaggeration, Yan knew. Normally, Sy would be able to feel it, but Ben had them all so well shielded that it was very likely that nothing would leak into the Force.

"Part of the reason cuddling with them at night helps you so much is because when you are with them you feel safe and welcome," Sy continued. "That might not be the case for me."

Now Obi-Wan turned his speculative glare on the _vod'e_. Yan was quite honestly curious what the little one would come up with.

"Master Sifo-Dyas is right, you know," Ben said. "It is a kind thought, but that's not something you can _make_ people do."

"But I can ask," Obi-Wan said stubbornly. "There's nothing wrong with asking, 'nd if I don't ask, then the answer will always be no. So. Would you come cuddle?"

He unleashed his wide pleading eyes onto his _vod'e_. 

Their reluctance was obvious.

"I guess I wouldn't mind?" Boil did not sound certain at all.

"Wouldn't really be the first time I've cozied up to a stranger," Crys said. "Though usually it's another _vod_ ," he added in a low mutter. 

"You do not have to do this," Sy said to them all.

That, unexpectedly, just seemed to spur them onward. 

Cody shrugged. "I'm game. But we aren't taking off our armor," he warned.

If anything, that just made Sy look heartbreakingly confused. Yan knew why. Such kindness wasn't something he'd had much experience with. Neither of them did, really. There was a reason the two of them had been so close right from the beginning. Both of them were outcasts in their own way.

"Wait a moment," Yan said, standing up. "I'll get a blanket to cover you, Sy."

An extra layer between Sy and the _vod'e_ would probably make them all feel less vulnerable. Not to mention a great deal more comfortable, too, given all the armor.

He headed off to the bedroom and grabbed the comforter right off of the bed. Then he hurried back to tuck Sy in. 

As strange as it seemed, Yan was quite hopeful that this might actually help. So damn few people actually cared about Sy. It was a strangely painful sensation to feel that hope. 

"Here," he said, draping the blanket over Sy. He pulled it up to his shoulders and then sat down right next to him. At least one flank would be covered by someone Sy knew. 

"Obi-Wan, come sit on my lap," he said. 

The little one scrambled to comply. He froze half way, and then said, "Wait!"

Quick as a comet, he dashed off to his room, and then came back with Blocky, his little stuffed loth-cat.

"Here you go, Master Sy," Obi-Wan said as he climbed back up onto Yan's lap. He very carefully set the small plushy on Sy's chest. 

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," Sy said. He snaked an arm out from under the blanket to pet the toy. "It is very kind of you to share."

Before things could turn awkward, Cody stepped forward and settled in on Sy's other side. He even put an arm around Sy's waist, which Obi-Wan leaned into. The rest of the younglings followed their commander and found places to perch. There wasn't enough room for all of them to get close, but they all reached a hand out at least. Ben came over, too, sitting at Cody's back; he wrapped one arm around Cody's middle, and the other he stretched over their shoulders to place his hand on Sy's shoulder.

The arrangement was tense and uncomfortable for a moment. Then some of Obi-Wan’s boundless certainty must have rubbed off onto the _vod’e_. Slowly, they all relaxed into their group sprawl and the atmosphere became more comfortable. Yan himself didn’t care one whit about getting buried in younglings; if there was a chance this could help Sy get some true rest, then he would gladly give it a try.

Yan managed to get ahold of Sy's hand under the blanket. It trembled in his hold, and Sy never lost that vaguely puzzled and touched expression.

"It's alright, Sy," Yan muttered to him. "Close your eyes and rest."

It took Sy a minute or two, but he eventually rested his head on Yan's shoulder and tried to relax. His breathing evened out almost immediately. Within five minutes he was sound asleep.

"Thank you," Yan said softly, once he was reasonably sure that Sy wouldn't wake. "Master Sifo-Dyas does not..." 

He had to take a moment to marshal his words and to tame his bitterness. Sy was asleep, but he wasn't _that_ deeply asleep, not yet. The last thing Yan wanted to do was disturb him.

When he thought he had his temper in check, he started again.

"Even among Jedi, those afflicted with visions are often... shunned," Yan said. "Many believe them to be contagious."

"That makes no sense," Helix said, keeping his tone low and quiet. "I thought most _jetiise_ got visions of some kind."

"The frequency and strength of Sy's visions is concerning to most. It becomes less of a boon and more of an affliction. There are many rumors as to how Master Sifo-Dyas became a Seer, most of which are horrendously inaccurate, but the fact remains that he acquired his gifts during his padawanship. It was a very unlikely event, with an extremely rare side effect, but, well..." Yan turned his snarl into a grimace. "That's not nearly as good a rumor as _contagious madness_ is."

"Is that why no one else talks to Master Sy?" Obi-Wan asked very softly.

"Yes, little one." Yan let out a slow breath and kept his emotions in firm check. "It is also why he has never taken a padawan. He has never wanted to force a child into the position of needing to care for him, and while some initiates might be desperate enough to agree to learning from any master over being sent to the Corps, the gossip spreads just as quickly through the senior initiates as it does through the rest of the Temple. Ingrained disrespect or distaste is a difficult hurdle to overcome."

"But he's really kind."

"I know."

Yan could feel Obi-Wan's angry determination. 

"I'm gonna drag Master Fisto 'nd Master Plo to go see him. They'll do it if I ask nice, 'nd then maybe Master Sy will have friends like Bant 'nd Garen."

There were several quiet snickers from the _vod'e_.

Yan just let his head fall back onto the couch cushions and he took a breath. 

"Obi-Wan, did we not _just_ explain how you cannot _make_ people be friends?" he said.

Force, this child. 

Obi-Wan just hummed at him, clearly still plotting. 

Whatever. That was Plo and Kit's problem, not his. 

"I'm gonna get Master Mace, too," Obi-Wan mused to himself. "He's all mean and hard on the outside, but that's just because he's squishy and soft on the inside."

"Get holos," Ben requested quietly.

"I'll tell Sy," Yan said. Might as well. 

Sy twitched in his sleep, and made a low noise.

And there were the nightmares.

As carefully as he could, Yan freed a hand so that he could gently touch Sy's forehead. 

"All is well," Yan breathed out, reinforcing his words with a cautious use of the Force. He didn't need a great deal of strength here, not when Sy's mind knew his so well. 

He brushed his finger down an inch, easing Sy's resting mind back to peace. 

"You're safe," he said.

Sy settled more heavily onto Yan's shoulder and his breathing deepened. 

A few more minutes passed in silence. When Yan was certain that Sy was dead to the world, he said, "He'll sleep for quite a while now, I think. You all are free to move. Obi-Wan and I should begin meditation practice."

The _vod'e_ carefully disengaged. Yan had to shoo Obi-Wan off. The loth-cat plushy stayed with Sy.

Once they were no longer buried, Yan eased Sy into laying down on the couch, and readjusted the blanket.

"Thank you," Yan said again to the younglings. "That was kindly done."

"You're welcome," Cody answered solemnly. 

\--


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick squick warning, there is more very frank sex gossip in this chapter from the _Vod'e_. Nothing terribly explicit, but definitely adult. I feel obligated to also warn that there is discussion of parents setting up networking opportunities for their children.

\---POV: Waxer Mereel ---

It had been an hour or so since they'd had firstmeal with the Master Dooku and the Cadet.

After they'd eaten, the Cadet had managed to con them into karking cuddling up to Master Sifo-Dyas, and the master into accepting that behaviour. Now, glancing over the three _jetiise_ meditating with his three _Vod'e_ , Waxer found himself biting down on the urge to shake his head as he turned back to the window he was stationed near and did another quick check of what was going on outside.

He, Longshot, Crys, and Boil were on guard duty while the others let Kenobi lead them through this latest round of group meditation. Judging by the fact that the four of them and the Cadet actually _were_ calm, in the network, it seemed to be going rather more smoothly than their previous attempts.

Nothing interesting was going on outside the window, so Waxer let himself draw on their usual sentry duty half-trance, which would let him stay rested even as he kept watch, and took advantage of the moment of peace to reflect on the events of the last rotation. Kriff, but it had been a strange one.

Personally, Waxer felt it had been worth the strangeness to witness the usually dignified master _jetii_ petting the Cadet's plushy loth-cat. And getting to see the way Dooku handled the other master had been its own kind of reward.

There was no way they weren't _riduur'e_. He'd called that ages ago.

The karking princess carry Dooku had executed as he'd hurried Master Sifo-Dyas off the training yard and into his suite... the fussing as they'd had Waxer transcribe that horrifying vision... their ability to read tiny nuances in one anothers' expressions, like _Vod'e_ did... the teasing, and the intimate gestures...

It all added up to one sum.

Master karking Dooku holding someone's hand to offer them comfort was just boggling enough that it had to be something that had really happened. He couldn't have dreamed _that_ up.

And then there had been the way Dooku had pulled a move Waxer had thought only the _Vod'e_ used. The quiet reassurance that someone trusted had the watch. That it was safe to let go. To rest.

 _Morut'yc,_ he thought and felt the wry smile tug at his lips, the expression hidden from view by his _buy'ce_.

Only after Master Sifo-Dyas had fallen asleep again -- apparently comfortable enough around them to allow himself that -- had they been encouraged to disengage. And even then, Waxer was fairly sure it had been primarily because Master Dooku knew better than to let the Cadet skip his meditations, rather than because Dooku was confident his _riduur_ would be able to sleep peacefully.

Had the two of them been alone, Waxer kind of thought Dooku would have simply put his _riduur_ back to bed, bodily if necessary, and kept him company.

But they weren't alone, and Obi-Wan had lessons to do.

In an effort to help keep the Cadet from worrying about his Master Sy too much, the General had asked that the Commander, Helix and Wooley join the meditation, but he'd allowed the rest of them to politely decline, well aware that they wouldn't be comfortable letting their guard down that completely in Master Dooku's presence.

Having three _Vod'e_ taking part and the other four keeping watch, though... that they could handle.

For his part, Waxer still wasn't entirely sure what to think about the strangeness of being pressed in close to Master Sifo-Dyas like the Cadet had insisted. It had been awkward enough knowing that Master Dooku had woken them and seen them at their least defended, but that? That had taken him a while to get his head around.

The little one was very fond of Master Sifo-Dyas, and very obviously wanted him and all his _vod'e_ to like the master, too. Which, considering what had happened to bring about their existence in their own timeline, was a karking difficult idea to get used to.

The _Vod'e_ hadn't ever strictly _resented_ him, which, alright, was in large part because they hadn't known who the _jetii_ was that had commissioned them. Not until General Kenobi had found out about their existence and the Clone Wars had all but exploded from simmering coals to raging firestorm, anyway. At which point they'd collectively had far bigger things to worry about than being angry at a dead man. Like surviving.

But they'd gradually prodded at the knowledge as the war had worn on. Just what had prompted the Jedi to commission them? General Kenobi hadn't known the answer to that question. He hadn't even known of their existence, until he'd stumbled across their training facility. Nor had the rest of the Order.

That fateful rotation, after Kenobi had found them and asked the longnecks about the _jetii_ master, about Jango, and gotten little information, he'd turned to the _Vod'e_ for answers.

They hadn't really had any to give him, but what they'd gotten in return for their attempts to assist Kenobi anyway...

Commander Cody had single handedly won them all a major victory, that rotation. He had managed to gain the trust of the _jetii_ who would become his General shortly after that, and singlehandedly secured them more information about their own existence and purpose in one hour than the longnecks had given them in a decade. Cody had shared anything he felt he could without compromising the safety of any _Vod'e_ , and hit a veritable goldmine of intel in the process when Kenobi had responded in kind. 

What the Commander had learned had spread through the rank and file like a wildfire, blazing through the networks they hadn't known they had at the time, a subconscious _knowing_ , aided in its spread by rumour and informal briefings and a sense that this single _jetii_ had already done more to shape their collective identities than anyone ever had before.

It had been the spark to kindle the beginnings of their loyalty to and protectiveness of Kenobi.

And Waxer, in his position as the most senior of the three lieutenants in the Commander's favoured Ghost Company, had been in a prime position to both follow the initial spread of that intel and watch as the Commander gradually coaxed more and more of it out of the General over the course of the War. Single sentences, mere phrases sometimes, scattered here and there over the months they'd known one another. One thing the Commander was _very karking good at_ was subtly and patiently chipping away at a stubborn problem.

Now, though, they were in a hell of a bizarre situation. Caught in the past, without any substantial backup and no real authority, and faced with the decision of whether to offer Master Sifo-Dyas the physical and emotional shelter they freely gave the General and the Cadet, they'd hesitated. All of them, including Kenobi.

Their General -- from what little Waxer could determine through the _jetii_ 's shields and excellent sabacc face -- felt much the same way that his _Vod'e_ did about Master Sifo-Dyas. He was willing to trust, to a large though limited degree, but that trust hadn't quite extended to the kind of actions the Cadet had been asking of them.

Helix, surprisingly, had been the one to make the decision to go for it, and Commander Cody had followed, as he always did when Helix took charge. The trust those two had in the Cadet's judgement and in Kenobi's ability to keep them safe was just... Waxer wanted to shake his head in disbelief. It was karking amazing, and it was why they worked well together. Even if Kenobi often treated just the suggestion of a trip to medical like the experience would be worse than torture.

And, somewhat to Waxer's surprise considering the initial reluctance he'd shown, Master Sifo-Dyas had also made the required leap of faith and allowed himself to accept the comfort the Cadet had convinced them to offer.

That it had gone well had been a good thing, had let all of them relax a little more into the knowledge that they'd managed to help ease whatever distress the master had been in. The way he'd tried to refuse the offered help had been a bit like hearing Kenobi do it. A bit like hearing a _vod_ do it. It had spurred them on, to Sifo-Dyas' visible confusion.

Master Dooku had approved. And it had felt weirdly satisfying to know that.

Which was another _karking bizarre_ thought to have cross his mind. A handful of weeks ago, he would never have believed that he could feel anything but derision and loathing for Dooku. And now... Well. Now he was having to come to terms with the fact that, while he might not have misjudged the man they'd known, the man they'd come to 'know' during the war was a mere twisted echo of the person he'd used to be.

It was karking obvious that, whatever their feelings about Dooku in their timeline, this was a man so different from the one they'd known that they might as well be physically separate people. This _jetii_ was generally fair and even-handed, though he had a habit of acting very... aristocratic was the best word for it, really. He didn't look down on them or anything like that, no, but if someone made some kind of stupid remark or made a fool of themselves, they'd get a very eloquent raised eyebrow or a pointed amused smirk in response.

In fact. Waxer huffed to himself quietly. The General did those things, too. Was that where he'd learned them? From his _ba'buir_?

Maybe it was. Dooku also had a habit of treating them like adults. Not quite equals, no, but he didn't treat any of the _Vod'e_ or Kenobi like they were _ad'ike_. There was a measure of respect and very tentative friendship there that Waxer would never have believed possible if he hadn't seen it unfold.

As a direct result, their distrust of Dooku was mellowing into a sensation a bit like meeting a _Vod_ whose interests and opinions diametrically opposed their own. Strange, and a little bit uncomfortable, a bit tense. But amicable enough.

It might yet ease further, should they stay in the past era they'd found themselves in, if for no other reason than because the Cadet very obviously adored his Master Sy and Master Doo, almost as much as he did the _Vod'e_.

But, right then, in that first moment after the Cadet had made his suggestion to Master Dooku, Waxer knew, they simply hadn't been ready to simply acquiesce without question. It was possible they never would be where either of those two _jetiise_ were concerned. There were just too many memories colouring those interactions that they could never speak about to anyone but each other or their General. And, perhaps more importantly, as Master Dooku and General Kenobi loved to remind them, the future wasn't set, no matter the visions or the other indications they had that trouble might well be heading their way.

Which... Waxer winced. _That_ was going to turn into an extended discussion, he was sure.

The visions that Master Sifo-Dyas had asked him to transcribe would almost certainly get all of his _vod'e_ \-- and likely General Kenobi, as well -- riled up enough to make the network ring with their tension and unease. They'd heard about the part with the Sith Lord, but none of the rest.

Force, the Commander really might not react well at all to hearing the parts about Rex and the Cadet. Waxer bit down on a sigh, knowing that he didn't want to draw the attention of his _vod'e_ too soon and risk having them nagging at him until the General was through with his meditations.

Realising he was getting himself strictly nowhere, his thoughts continually circling the same few topics over and over, Waxer firmly shoved those worries and revelations back into the box they'd started in. He could work through his thoughts about Master Sifo-Dyas' visions together with his _vod'e_. That would be more helpful and efficient than trying to do it alone, clearly.

Waxer refocused his attention on the things he was supposed to be doing. Namely, keeping an eye on the movements outside the windows. There was about as much going on outside as there had been five minutes ago, when he'd decided to allow himself the attempt at thinking things through.

The rest of the time that the General spent wandering through his own head went by quickly, thank the Force, and then they were free. The Cadet had his morning lessons to attend to, which gave them the excuse they needed to turn him back over to Master Dooku and make their escape, promising the _jet'ika_ that they'd see each other after midmeal. 

The Commander gave him a significant look as they left the suite.

 _Yeah,_ Waxer thought to himself, _I'm going to be spending the next hour being interrogated._

\---POV: Cody Mereel ---

 _Force_ , but he was really starting to get to the point of _needing_ to know what the kriff Waxer had found out about when he'd helped the _jetiise_ transcribe that vision.

It was looking more and more like it could very well be mission-critical information, whether they were permanently stuck here in the past or not, and he intended to get it.

Waxer, he knew, would tell them as much as he could. The question was, had his second in command gotten all of the relevant details? Had there been things that Master Sifo-Dyas simply hadn't mentioned because to him they'd been self-evident? Maybe Waxer hadn't known the right questions to ask, to get the requisite information out of the _jetii_.

Kark, maybe he should've taken that job himself, after all, despite feeling the need to keep an eye on his General and the Cadet personally.

The walk back to their suite after that somewhat awkward but generally successful group meditation felt like it was more than a klick long, with the way his curiosity and impatience were spurring him onwards. He'd struggled through the meditation with the General, and though it had helped calm him down substantially, he was still a bit edgy with the need to _know_.

Kenobi made an amused sound, and the network echoed it, even as the _Vod'e_ also agreed with Cody on the issue.

The moment their door closed behind them, all seven of them and the General automatically turned towards their dining area and the long table placed there. Waxer with a somewhat resigned air, and the others save Kenobi projecting their urgency-worry-curiosity at their _vod_.

Once they were seated, the General broke the building silence. "What was it that shocked you so, when Master Sifo-Dyas told you about his vision? It wasn't what he said about the Sith Lord, judging by your reactions earlier."

Waxer sighed. "No, Sir, it wasn't," he answered, then hesitated before he added, "I wasn't kidding about this potentially upsetting the Cadet."

Cody felt the General reinforce his shields, the move making the world around them feel almost muffled, for all that he knew he could hear fine. It was an odd feeling. The sense of boundless energy and curiosity coming from the Cadet also dimmed.

Waxer took it in stride, though. "That works," he said, then looked Cody in the eyes. "You might not like what I'm about to tell you, either, Commander, but I know you know how to keep a handle on what you feel."

"Well?" Cody demanded, not sure whether that was supposed to sound ominous or not.

"Alright, _vod'e_ ," Waxer said in indirect answer, "I'll share."

The slight emphasis on the last word made it clear what he meant to do, and, a moment later, Cody saw the whole scene unfold, as though he'd been there himself; the memory was in the first person, and it made the image all the more immediate. This was no abstract idea or learned skill that Waxer was handing them. It was a piece of himself, of his experiences, and it was correspondingly immersive.

It was also, Cody knew, spreading through the network and intensifying a little more with each _vod_ that picked up on it. Each time it connected, the scene gained clarity, the amount of detail rising and the sensory inputs and the emotions picking up strength. 

The discussion of the sourceless Darkness, and then... _Rex_. Waxer's stunned surprise at hearing that the Captain of the 501st had starred in not just the Cadet's visions, but the master _jetii_ 's, as well. His Lieutenant's sure knowledge that, if the master was Seeing that particular _vod_ at the Cadet's side, it had to mean that there was a storm brewing on the horizon. The description of a pair of warriors caught mid-battle was almost as bad, for all that moments like those had represented their status quo for a good year and a half. And Waxer's feeling of mingled relief and resignation when he'd gotten confirmation that the _vod_ in the vision was wearing 501st blue had all but cut Cody to the bone. Kark, it felt like someone had slashed him open and left him to bleed his emotions out into empty space.

He had absolutely no idea how to react to the description of the Cadet and Rex treating one another like they were lovers or networked. Or maybe both.

That was just. It didn't compute. A rush of envy and jealousy shot through him before he could clamp down on it hard enough, and got him sharp concerned looks from all of his _vod'e_ , and Kenobi.

No one spoke, letting the silence draw out. Giving him the space to think and process, and speak if he wanted to, Cody realised.

He needed it, too. It took him a long, stunned minute to first get past the way what had always been more like subconscious knowledge before was suddenly as immediate as being there himself.

It took him a second long minute to process the fact that Master Sifo-Dyas had had a vision that strongly implied that their Cadet and Rex were _riduur'e_. The way the master had described them... the words he'd chosen…

Cody didn’t know if he was more jealous of Rex or the Cadet. He missed Rex something fierce, and hearing about someone else -- even the Cadet -- enjoying the close bond he’d shared with Rex when he currently couldn’t gnawed at him. Not having his _vod_ at his side, left him off balance, and, yes, having his Ghosts around him helped -- more with each rotation that passed -- but it just wasn't the same.

And then there was the rest of that image. It wasn't just that not having his _Vod_ at his side left him aching in all sorts of ways anytime he was reminded of the lack. For all that Cody knew karking well that the vision had been about the Cadet and not Kenobi, it was weirdly difficult to separate the two of them, mentally. The idea of _Rex_ , of all people, getting that close to the _jetii_ he so desperately wished he could have... Cody almost wished he could haul Rex back through time to join them just so he could punch his _vod_. But it wasn't Kenobi in the vision. It wasn't Cody's _jetii_ that his _vod_ was so cozy with. 

The Cadet and the General might have once been the same person, but it was crystal clear to him now that whatever else the time-travel and their interaction with Kenobi’s past self had done, it had already affected how the Cadet acted and saw the galaxy. The two of them were influencing one another, and strongly. It had gotten to the point that Cody was fairly sure they were more like two very similar _vod’e_ than they were the same person. The Cadet wasn't acting the way an _adiik_ his age should. Not all the time. He had moments of behaviour that was very... the only word for it was adult. It was like seeing flashes of the thirty-five-year-old Negotiator in the body of a five-year-old.

Which really made him wonder what would happen if they _did_ ever get back to their own timeline. Would Kenobi remember all of this from his childhood in the perspective of the Cadet? Which set of experiences would win out in Kenobi’s mind?

This was confusing as any of the other time-travel based banthashit he'd experienced so far. Including making sort-of-friends with Master Dooku.

Any yet, despite that, it _fit_ , in an odd sort of way.

The Cadet had always told them outright that Rex was his favourite right alongside Cody, and openly missed Rex almost as much as Cody did. Until now, Cody had simply chalked that up to the fact that Rex had a habit of causing explosions everywhere he went. Unleashing fire and detonations was clearly something that Kenobi had always enjoyed.

Kark, _Rex_. Cody felt his throat go tight. He missed that _Vod_ something fierce. It would be a relief to see him again, if this vision did come to pass, but Cody didn't like the idea that to see his friend again he'd have to endure the war a second time. That they all would.

If the master _jetii_ had seen _Rex_ , that meant that whatever they'd done so far, in this time, it wasn't enough to prevent the GAR from getting commissioned. Not yet. Which meant that the War was still going to happen.

Around him, in the network, all his troopers were reacting in much the same way; surprise, disbelief, sadness, longing, and a few other tangled and indecipherable emotions rang through them as they collectively watched the scene come to a close.

After that shock of feeling, the endless waves of tinnies and rollies that the master had described were like nothing, and the description of the Sith Lord merely a repetition of what they'd talked over with Master Dooku.

Cody shook his head to clear it.

"Well," Kenobi said, his own voice a little faint. "That certainly wasn't anything like what I thought I'd experience, when you did that. After our first group meditation, you said... you said you're used to doing that, to sharing your memories with one another. Is it always so vivid?"

Waxer gave the General a slightly sheepish look. "I'd have warned you, but this is the first time any of us has attempted to share anything since we got the chips removed. None of us could've known how the network would react."

"That's fair enough, I suppose," Kenobi replied, gathering his wits about him again, "but what you just did is something many Jedi struggle to master, Waxer."

"What?" Crys asked, sounding surprised. "But the _Vod'e_ do that all the time, General."

Kenobi smiled. "One more way in which all of you are remarkable," he said, audibly meaning every word. "Sharing memories like that is not something that is easy to do, much less with the level of detail that Waxer just pulled off. Among the Order, I would have expected that level of ability from nothing less than a Master... and perhaps not even from every Master. Now, you said it changed from what it was like before the chips were removed. What was it like before?"

Waxer shrugged. "It was... something you just _knew_. Like intuitive knowledge."

"Interesting." The General's gaze went a little distant as he thought.

"Here," Waxer said, with a smile tugging at his lips, "I'll show you."

That time, he didn't share the memory with the entire network, though all of them could tell he was sharing something -- it was a feeling they'd all learned to recognise early on -- and Kenobi made a noise of understanding.

"I see what you mean," he said after a moment. "You know... but... not consciously. It's just there."

That raised an important point, as far as Cody was concerned: if sharing was that much more immediate, there was no karking way he was ever going to share his memories of what had happened to his old network. Kriff that. It was bad enough that he had those in his own head. He wasn't about to infect his _vod'e_ with them.

Cody cleared his throat. "If you've got a handle on how sharing works, General," he said, shaking off the feeling of dread and revulsion that had accompanied that last thought, "I'd like to know more about that vision involving the Cadet and Rex."

With a groan, Waxer poked at him in the network, pointedly. "You know as much as I do, now, Commander. All I've got is that the Cadet and Captain Rex appeared to be twenty standard years old, and were covered in blaster burns and dirt. Master Sifo-Dyas thought they were halfway through a battle."

"And that they were potentially _riduur'e_ ," Boil pointed out.

"That... might just be my interpretation of what he said," Waxer admitted. "He just said they looked like they were as close to one another as I am to all of you, _vod'e_. That doesn't have to mean they're _riduur'e_."

"True," Helix agreed, "but it's not out of the question, with the way he was describing them. 'Like a torch in the night'," he quoted.

"Captain Rex always did burn brightly," Kenobi put in, his tone thoughtful. "His resolve and tenacity... his will to survive and to win are like a flame."

"If Captain Rex and the _jetii_ in the vision both looked to be the same age," Waxer pointed out, his voice grave, "then it has to be a vision of the future of this timeline, and not the past of ours. You didn't meet any of us until you were a lot older than twenty, General, and by the time you were close enough to the Captain to come anywhere close to that level of camaraderie, we were about to start that pursuit of General Grievous that landed us here. Hells, I kind of doubt that you were close enough to him even then for it to fit this vision."

Kenobi winced. "Not an unfair judgement," he admitted. "But if that's so, if Master Sifo-Dyas has seen the future of this timeline, then we haven't yet succeeded, clearly."

"You think we can?" Longshot asked, dubiously. "We'd follow you through the deepest darkest reaches of space, General, but this might be a job that's too big for the eight of us."

Helix nodded. "I hate to say it, but Longshot might be right, General."

"I know you have a plan, sir," Cody chimed in, "but you haven't told us what it is."

With a worried expression, Wooley added his voice to theirs. "Even if we find allies, General, we have almost no chance."

With a sigh, Kenobi ran one hand through his hair. "It is a big job," he admitted quietly, "and I've been having many of the same doubts. But the Force brought us here for a reason. We must trust in that, and do the best we can."

Crys scoffed. "You're a master _jetii_ , General. We're just troopers," he pointed out. "We don't have the Force, or that ability to just believe things will work out."

"Wooley does, and the rest of you seem to have a level of faith in _me_ that I don't deserve," Kenobi retorted, and pulled them all up short.

It was true. Longshot had just admitted it, too. They _did_ believe in their General's ability to triumph over anything the galaxy could throw at him. And for anything that he couldn't vanquish on his own, he had the _Vod'e_.

After a moment that stretched out, Boil said, "What's the plan, then, Sir?"

"Subject to change," Kenobi quipped. "My main objectives at the moment are making sure that _buir_ 's faction stays politically stable and that Master Dooku doesn't Fall, and finding a way back to our own place in the timeline."

"Not much of a plan," Cody grumbled.

"We don't know that we _can_ get back to our own place in the timeline," Helix added, his expression just as frustrated and grumpy as his signature in the network. "We might've already changed things so much, just by being here-and-now, that the future we came from is gone. And even if it wasn't gone, how the _kriff_ would we get back there? Jump back through the same cave opening that brought us here?"

Kenobi turned slowly to stare at him. "That, Helix," he said slowly, "is a karking brilliant idea, and I don't know why it never occurred to me before to try that."

Cody watched as their Chief Medical Officer went a little pink as he tried to decide whether to stay frustrated and grumpy or let himself enjoy the praise that Kenobi had just heaped on him and wound up just kind of floundering for long enough that the silence got a little awkward.

" _Buir_ won't like it if we decide to try that approach," Cody felt compelled to point out. "He might not allow it."

The General waved that off. "If worst comes to worst, we can use a few credits of that allowance _buir_ decided to give us in compensation for assisting him in getting rid of the Death Watch to get passage to someplace like Nar Shaddah or Ord Mantell, and gamble until we have enough to buy a small ship. It wouldn't be that difficult."

Right. Getting back off of a Hutt-controlled casino planet with the equivalent of a stolen ship, while looking like they were ten standard years old. Not difficult. Ord Mantell wasn't much better. Cody restrained the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Nor would getting off Mandalore in the first place be all that simple. They were, simply by virtue of being associated with their _buir_ and Jango, quite well known. There was no way they'd get off-planet unremarked, not even if they paid in cold hard credits. "General, let's keep that in reserve as a backup plan for now."

"Right," Boil agreed, "we have other things to discuss right now."

Cody raised an eyebrow at him. "Do we."

"You saw that memory just as vividly as I did, Commander," the shameless karking _vod_ reminded him, "so I know you saw just how weirdly gentle and careful Dooku was being with his 'good friend'."

Crys snorted and nodded. "True, he was acting like Master Sifo-Dyas really was his _cyare_."

"They behaved the same way the whole time I was checking on Master Sifo-Dyas, too," Helix added. "Dooku kept trying to mother him, and getting growled at, but both of them knew there was no actual anger there. And they kept using those same cute nicknames you heard, Waxer."

"They're totally _riduur'e_ ," Waxer said with a nod. "I called it right at the beginning."

"Those hints he kept dropping after Master Sifo-Dyas joined us," Longshot mused. "I thought they were just a distraction, but maybe they weren't."

"You think they were trying to tell us that they're _riduur'e_ without actually saying it?" Crys asked.

General Kenobi made a slightly pained sound. " _Vod'e_ , you're reading far too much into a few miniscule details," he said. "The pair of them are not _riduur'e_."

" _Mhi solus tome,_ " Waxer said quietly. "We are one when together. They definitely are. They know each other well enough to anticipate and compensate for one another. You saw them spar. They're just as unified when they're sitting together on a sofa. And then there are all the little gestures. The hand holding? Dooku's expression when he made sure Master Sifo-Dyas didn't have that nightmare? The way they teased each other? The two of them have whole conversations without saying a word. Kark, they use the Cadet's silly nicknames for them on one another. And don't even get me started on the way Dooku fusses over 'Master Sy'."

Little flashes of shared memory, impressions of the moments Waxer was referring to in the memory he'd shared earlier, accompanied his words, broadcast to the network as a whole as he took advantage of their connections to make his point. That wasn't a thing that they made a habit of, but on occasion it could be very helpful to them, when they needed to or wanted to pick apart an interaction or situation.

" _Mhi solus dar'tome,_ " Boil picked up the thread. "We are one when apart. You've seen how they are when they're comming one another. You were there for that group call when the Cadet secured permission to come out here. They're just as unified when they're physically separated by half the galaxy."

In the network, the _vod_ shared a few more impressions with them, highlighting moments they'd all been present for, but putting them in an entirely new context. Master Sifo-Dyas jokingly pawning the Cadet off on Master Dooku because he wasn't up to 'playing rough'. Master Dooku repeatedly reminding his "good friend" that he had the watch. That it was safe.

Kenobi was staring at them, almost gaping. "But-- Jedi don't--"

When he stumbled to a stop, at a loss for words, Helix reached out to put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Easy, General."

" _Mhi me'dinui an_ ," Helix went on, once he was sure the General was more or less stable, "We will share all. They're definitely sharing quarters, now, and frequently did when they were younger. It's very likely they're sharing a bed. They're sharing the duties of taking care of the Cadet, and of keeping him safe. They're just... not willing to speak about any of that openly, and now we know why."

Their medic followed Waxer's example, offering them his own intel on the pair. These snatches of memories were slightly more detailed, to make up for the fact that none of them had seen them before. Master Dooku gently coercing Master Sifo-Dyas into eating toast before taking a painkiller, making sure that his "good friend" wouldn't have a blood sugar crash, and then defending his "good friend's" judgement to Helix. All of those moments were so strongly reminiscent of the way the _Vod'e_ cared for one another that it was a bit jarring to see.

" _Mhi ba'jure verd'e_ ," Longshot supplied the last phrase of the traditional Mandalorian marriage vows. "We will raise warriors. I'm pretty sure the Cadet counts. And Dooku hinted that he's had padawans before besides Jinn."

Cody had to admit that, taken together, the argument his _vod'e_ made really was a very convincing one. He nodded thoughtfully. "I could see it. Before today, I wouldn't have believed it, myself, but, put in context, it fits."

Kenobi did, too, judging by his expression of stunned surprise. "But--"

The network was shuddering under the weight of the conflict between his belief that Jedi simply didn't _do that_ , and knowledge that the arguments that had just been made were valid.

Helix very deliberately positioned himself between the General and the rest of the room, catching his eyes. "Hey, General," he said quietly, holding Kenobi's eyes firmly, "Are you alright in there? Check in with me, _vod_."

"I-- I'm alright, Helix." Kenobi seemed to shudder hard, from the tips of his hair to his toes, and the storm of confused emotion quieted somewhat. "That just... it's _not done_ ," he managed to say, finding the words to respond and most of his usual poise. "It's against the Code. That kind of attachment is... well, _dangerous_. Long-term lovers are a well-known phenomenon, even among the Order's adherents, but _riduur'e_... no. Moreover, the two of them are as unlikely a pair to fit that description as I could ever imagine. A High Councilor and Master Yoda's former padawan? Not karking likely."

Master Sifo-Dyas' words seemed to echo in the room. _The Council might require the offending parties to diminish or outright break the bond. ... Perhaps, if the breach was egregious enough, they might be cast from the Order._

They were all silent for a few moments, giving one another time to calm back down, and digest what had been said.

General Kenobi, Cody knew, wasn't likely to accept that the two master _jetiise_ were _riduur'e_ , but that was alright. He and his _vod'e_ knew the truth of the matter, now. Which meant their next step needed to be to report back to Ardanna.

"Commander?" Waxer broke the silence building in the room and changed the subject. "What was on that datapad you got from Master Sifo-Dyas last rotation, anyway? Some kind of intel we're liable to need?"

Happy enough to be diverted, Cody allowed it. The previous topic was only distressing Kenobi, after all. 

His hand automatically went to his belt, where the datapad still hung. He hadn't opened it. Sith-hells, he'd actually forgotten it was there, in all the excitement that had followed Master Sifo-Dyas' vision and subsequent collapse.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "Haven't looked at it yet."

Powering the datapad on and unlocking it -- it had no password set, which bothered Cody on principle, even as he knew it would have been silly to set one that Master Sifo-Dyas would then have to be careful to communicate to him -- he called up the file listing.

There was barely anything on the device. A couple of text files and associated still holo images. Their names were indecipherable gibberish. A jumble of letters and numbers that had to have been either corrupted or randomly generated.

The first, when he opened it, made him just blink at the datapad in abject befuddlement. A list of bullet points stared back at him. "What the _kriff_?"

General Kenobi leaned against his shoulder and read the first few lines of the file aloud. "Remember to always carry enough bacta. Check all collateral offered as backing on wagers. Only purchase expensive components from reputable sources. This is a strixa beast -- there's a holo attached -- it travels in family packs of 3 to 5 and is terrified of the color red. Devorian malted drinks are mildly toxic in large quantities; never drink more than two liters."

"Uhhh, yes?" Waxer agreed. "Nearly all of that is common sense, General. Is there anything more helpful in there?"

Kenobi shrugged. "Still good advice, even if it is obvious. And, no, it's all more of the same. I wonder why Master Sifo-Dyas felt this was important enough to be secretive about handing it over."

"Well, I sure couldn't tell you, General," Cody grumbled. "Do master _jetiise_ get their kicks out of being cryptic?"

Kenobi made an amused sound. "I'll admit, we do have our moments."

The second file was just as karking random and just as baffling as the first. It turned out to be a description of a parcel of land. The parcel was roughly square and about two klicks by two klicks, located near the Sundari biodome. The expanse was nothing but karking _sand_ though, and had no features to distinguish it from the surrounding dunes. It could basically only be found from orbit, or by taking a bearing on the city itself.

"What the _kriff_?" Longshot muttered.

"What in the name of all the karking sith-burned hells do we need _this_ intel for?" Crys asked with a resigned tone.

General Kenobi glanced over it, then hummed. "Nothing remarkable about the land whatsoever, based on this description."

"I have no idea what we're supposed to do with either of these pieces of information," Wooley said, shaking his head. "Maybe Ardanna might know something about the land parcel. Or its owner."

"She does know all the good gossip," Waxer agreed. "Worth a shot."

"And if she doesn't know anything?" Boil wanted to know. "What then?"

Cody rolled his eyes at the _vod_. "We keep trying. I suspect that this datapad's contents are either very important or an elaborate joke, and I don't think we can afford to simply take the risk that it might be a joke, at this point. If, after we've done some digging, we still find nothing, we can send him back his own little puzzle."

Helix snickered. "A file of similarly random facts and advice, from us?"

Wooley grinned broadly. "Sounds good to me."

The General just shook his head at them. "Do try not to go too overboard."

Boil drew himself up, mock-offended. "General, you have so little faith in us."

"Quite the contrary," Kenobi shot back. "I have every confidence that you'll overdo things, as you nearly did with that 'welcome gift' you wanted to send."

"If a thing is worth doing, it's worth overdoing," Crys put in.

"You should've been put in the 501st," Helix said to him and sighed.

"Seriously, though," Waxer yanked them back on track. "What the kriff could we possibly need that much land for? We're not nobles or farmers, the land is just empty desert, and we're clone troopers. We don't even have any identification papers, so we couldn't do anything about this even if we wanted to."

"You're assuming we're meant to purchase it," Kenobi pointed out.

"What else does one do with a plot of land that has no strategic or economic value whatsoever?" Helix asked drily.

"As Wooley indirectly pointed out, it may very well be the owner of this land parcel that we're meant to follow up on, rather than the land itself," the General suggested. "And, you bring up a very good point about the identification papers, Waxer. We should ask _buir_ about that. I'm sure it was taken care of the same day you told him you'd chosen a surname, and just got shoved aside as low-priority, given the events that followed."

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

It had been surprising in the extreme that his _ad'ike_ would agree to spend the night in a suite other than their own. And he'd missed seeing them at firstmeal. Now, after having had midmeal alone as well, Jaster was getting a little bit twitchy. 

He was more than a little grateful that Wooley had apprenticed under Ardanna, if only because that meant the armoury was one place he knew he could reliably find the _vod'e_. 

He knew if he commed one of them, they would allow themselves to be pinned down for him to talk to them. That seemed a little excessive just to see them, though. Cody and Helix had kept him and Jango updated with what was going on with the _jetiise_ , so it wasn't as if Jaster needed intel. He just wanted to see his _ad'e_.

So he headed over to the armory around the time he knew that Wooley would be there. The _vod'e_ almost never went anywhere alone, so at least one of the other six was sure to be there with him. 

It was only a mild surprise when he walked in to see all of the _vod'e_ , minus Ben, sitting around Ardanna's main worktable. Wooley and Ardanna were both working on repairs. The rest of the _vod'e_ were cleaning their armor or blasters. Jaster could hear Mira back in the forge, working the flame. 

" _Buir!_ " Waxer greeted him with a cheerful wave. The rest of the _vod'e_ echoed it.

"Morning, _ad'e_ ," Jaster said with a smile. Ardanna nudged Wooley, who got up and pulled over an extra stool for Jaster to sit. Jaster nodded in thanks to him.

"Everything alright, _buir_?" Cody asked.

"Fine. I just wanted to stop by and see you all," Jaster said, leaning his forearms onto the work table. "How are the _jetiise_?"

"Master Sifo-Dyas is recovering. Master Dooku is running the Cadet through his afternoon drills," Cody said.

"Instead of hovering around Master Sifo-Dyas like a worried mother-tooka," Waxer said with amusement.

Jaster snorted. He couldn't picture it. "And Ben?"

"With Dooku and the Cadet," Crys said. "He’s the designated sparring partner. There was talk of a tea party afterwards."

Crys, Longshot, Waxer, and Boil all made disgusted faces. 

"General just didn't want to hear us gossip," Wooley said. His eyes were glued to the repair work he was attending to, and his words sounded a touch distracted.

"It's for the best," Helix said firmly. "It was... bothering him."

"Oh?" Jaster said. Now he was curious.

"Your _ad'e_ are under the firm impression that they have found the evidence they need to prove that Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas are _riduur'e_ ," Ardanna said with mild amusement. "A worthy achievement for any armourer's apprentice."

Jaster raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

_Riduur'e_. Huh. 

He thought back to how they'd interacted just after the sparring.

"I could see it," he said. 

Damn. He was almost a little disappointed. Both of the _jetiise_ were fine warriors. Attractive. Pleasant to talk to. Not that Jaster was looking for a _riduur_ , but a casual arrangement could have been fun.

Ardanna must have read right where his mind was going, because she just gave him a look. 

Jaster shrugged, unrepentant. 

Helix raised an eyebrow at him. " _Buir_."

"What?" Jaster asked.

"Please tell me you weren't thinking what I think you were just thinking," Helix said flatly.

Jaster scoffed at him. "I'm hardly the only one."

That just made several of the _vod'e_ sputter or cough.

"Mereel is right," Ardanna said with a knowing nod. " _Mando'ad'e_ might not particularly like _jetiise_ , but those two have made a very good impression. They are very skilled warriors."

"They seem to be honorable men," Jaster added.

"They take very good care of their _jet'ika_ ," Ardanna continued.

"Definitely in good shape," Jaster shook his head appreciatively.

" _Buuuuir_ ," Boil groaned and shoved his head in his hands. Ardanna cackled at him.

"But they're so _old_ ," Waxer complained.

"They aren't _that_ old, _ad_ ," Jaster said dryly. "Mid-forties isn't old, especially not for people who can fight like that."

"They are both fifty if they are a day," Helix bit out.

Jaster shrugged. "They look pretty good for fifty, that's all I'm saying."

Now half the _vod'e_ where sporting pained expressions. Ardanna had stopped her repairs just to laugh at them. 

" _Buir_. _Buir_ , no," Crys said.

"Well, clearly not if you say they're _riduur'e_." Jaster shrugged. 

"They are. They really are," Wooley said firmly. "They can't say anything about it because of karking _jetiise_ nonsense, but they clearly are."

"They follow every part of the _riduurok_ ," Boil confirmed. 

"They're... close," Cody said. "United. Even caring, which is kriffing weird to see from Master Dooku."

"Did you see him that first morning after Master Sifo-Dyas and the Cadet showed up?" Boil asked. "Dooku looked _tired_. Weirdly happy and tired."

"They had to be kriffing," Waxer said sagely. 

Jaster covered his mouth with one hand and tried not to fall out of his chair laughing. The gossip itself was pretty interesting, but hearing that kind of chatter out of what appeared to be ten year olds was somehow intensely funny. They were just so matter of fact about it.

"Oh, kark, we never did ask the General if _jetiise_ can use the Force in bed," Boil said, pausing in his repairs a moment. 

Jaster blinked, and Ardanna looked at Boil with some measure of surprise.

"Stands to reason that they do," Waxer said, matter of factly. He didn't even pause in his cleaning. 

"Dare I ask," Jaster said. He wanted to know, but at the same time he really wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"All of the _jetiise_ use the Force to increase their strength, endurance, and speed in battle," Waxer said.

Cody nodded and started reassembling his blaster. "They do," he said, in response to Ardanna's curious glance. "You saw Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas sparring. They do that sort of thing in all fights, and then double down on using the Force to keep themselves going for weeks on end with no sleep and little food or drink."

"Kriffing _di'kut'e_ ," Helix grumbled. "Would run themselves into the ground if we didn't make them sleep."

"Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas barely looked worked up after their sparring," Waxer pointed out. "Now picture what had to happen to make Master Dooku look _tired_."

Jaster absolutely was picturing it. 

Kark, that was probably a bad idea. A very interesting bad idea. He should not be thinking about this in front of his _ad'e_ , no matter the fact that they were really experienced warriors in the bodies of children. 

"Damn," he said with a shake of his head.

"Right?" Waxer pointed at him. "And think of the other Force applications. They all have telekinesis."

"Wouldn't even need rope or a harness to hold someone down." Boil nodded.

"Or hold them up," Helix said. "Safety is built in, if both parties have the Force. Empathy while kriffing would feel great, and the moment things went sideways, both parties would know and could stop. Instant safeword."

"Useful if you're using gags," Waxer said absently.

Jaster was more than a little impressed with their knowledge. At least he wouldn't have to give any of them the sex talk. Clearly, they were already well informed.

Ardanna had gone quiet, though. She was still working, still listening attentively. But Jaster had known her for a long time now and he noticed there was a tension in her, well hidden. 

_She still thinks they're just ten year olds_ , Jaster realized. 

Kark, well. That was a little awkward. The _vod'e_ knew way, way more than any child should know about... basically everything. Being child soldiers explained a lot of it away very neatly. Intimate knowledge of advanced sex techniques, especially ones that used bindings, was less easy to explain away. 

The _vod'e_ didn't seem to notice. She was covering it well.

"So useful," Waxer said.

" _Vod_ , I need to be there when you ask Kenobi about this." Wooley shook his head. "Just to see what he says."

"Pffft, you know he's just going to give us some crazy cryptic answer," Longshot bitched.

"Or tell us some other kriffing horror story," Helix muttered.

Cody grimaced but didn't dispute it. 

"Just picture the General trying to give Skywalker the sex talk. Force, that must have been hilarious," Boil said, snickering. 

The rest of the _vod'e_ giggled along with him. 

Cody was smiling, but he shook his head. "No chance that the General told Skywalker anything new. Skywalker grew up a slave. Chances are good he'd already heard or seen it all."

Ardanna shot Jaster a very covert glance. He'd have to find a time to talk to her later about this, if only to assure her that if he ever found the people who'd had care of the _vod'e_ and Ben before they'd been adopted, he'd string them up and gut them. 

Helix rubbed his face. "What a mess."

"If you think the General giving anyone The Talk is hilarious, think about the Cadet. _He's_ probably gonna hear The Talk from Master Sifo-Dyas or Master Dooku," Crys said pointedly.

Jaster couldn't stop the snort of amusement. That would be something to see.

"As they should," Ardanna said. "They are the little one's _buir'e_."

"Not officially," Cody said. "The Cadet is still an initiate. He hasn't been chosen by a master, and won't be old enough for that for a few more years. So neither of the masters can claim him as a padawan learner."

"That's gonna be trouble," Wooley said absently.

The rest of the _vod'e_ stared at him in silence.

"What?" Wooley looked up at them, confused. 

"You have a bad feeling, _vod_?" Cody asked. 

There was a serious quality to his tone of voice that set off alarm bells in Jaster's head. Something about that phrase meant more to the _vod'e_ than it did to him, and whatever it was, was bad.

Wooley winced, and shook his head. "Not as such. I was just thinking... it's clear that the Cadet wants Master Sifo-Dyas to be his master, but after yesterday..."

Helix grimaced. "That vision really hit him hard," he said.

Jaster wanted to ask what it had been about. That seemed like too personal a question, though. If the _vod'e_ knew and felt like they were free to share it, they already would have. So for now, Jaster would wait and follow their lead. 

"Kriff, and Master Dooku said that kind of thing happens all the time." Waxer had an unhappy frown on his face. 

"Right? So, Master Sifo-Dyas might be difficult to persuade to take on the Cadet," Wooley said. "For good reason. Then there is Master Dooku. He could take the Cadet on, but he is ridiculously awkward around the Cadet right now, like he thinks the Cadet is gonna break."

"Or run him over," Boil said, smirking.

Wooley pointed at him with his soldering pen. "Right. So, Master Dooku is reluctant, and also doesn't spend basically any time in the Temple. The Order won't let them jointly apprentice the Cadet. It's unlikely at best that the Council would allow a padawan that young this far out on the Outer Rim without putting up a fuss."

"Why not?" Ardanna asked. "They are _riduur'e_. Having a stable partner to help raise _ad'e_ is part of the point of having a _riduur_."

"Master Sifo-Dyas said that those kinds of attachments are frowned on so hard that the offending pair could be punished, split up, or thrown out if the partnership was discovered," Wooley explained. "Which is why Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku are keeping quiet, I expect."

"They aren't doing a very good job of it if you all found them out," Ardanna said disapprovingly.

Wooley turned off his soldering pen and set it in its holder. Then he pressed his lips together in thought.

After a moment, he said, "This is gonna sound weird, but I think that they _let_ us see."

"Why?" Jaster asked.

"It's tactically useful for a few reasons," Cody said. "They want us to trust them. They want us to trust them with _Obi-Wan_. The appearance of vulnerability invites sympathy and a lowering of defenses. Master Dooku is looking to stay here long term, so anything that makes people view him in a more positive light is good for him, and it's pretty clear that Master Sifo-Dyas brings out a friendlier aspect of his personality."

Helix gave Cody an incredibly unimpressed look. "They both also reminded the General repeatedly that the rules they are bound to as members of the Order don't apply to him, which means that he's free to make whatever choices he wants."

Oh.

 _Ohhhh_.

Jaster almost cackled.

Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas must have seen how Ben and Cody were pining for each other and decided to take a more active role in pushing them together. That was excellent. He'd half expected them to disapprove instead, given what Ben had said in the past about attachment.

"How very courteous of them to point out all the available options to Ben," Ardanna said, a little archly.

A slight dusting of pink showed up in Cody's cheeks.

"Which reminds me." Cody switched his attention to Jaster. " _Buir_ , do Mandalorians do arranged marriages? It was brought to our attention that rulers and their families often set their children up with _riduur'e_ , and sometimes they do it really young."

Ardanna snorted in amusement.

"No, _ad_ ," Jaster said, shaking his head. "Sometimes clan chieftains might try to set up their _ad'e_ , but they only introduce them and see if the two younglings form a connection on their own. The _riduurok_ is sacred and shouldn't be forced."

 _Besides_ , Jaster thought. _There is no way I'd dream of separating you and Ben_.

All of the _vod'e_ breathed a sigh of relief.

"Who would give you such an idea?" Ardanna asked, her tone displeased.

"It came up in conversation this morning," Cody said. Jaster noted that he didn't say who exactly brought it up. "There's a lot we still don't know about Mandalorian culture," he admitted. "We thought it best to ask you directly."

Ardanna hummed, but gave him a short nod. "Wise of you."

A barely noticeable level of tension flowed out of the _vod'e_ at her approval.

"I suppose it's not _that_ unreasonable a conclusion, though," she said musingly. "I have had more than one _verd_ inquire about the possibility of setting you and their _ad'e_ up for _training_ sessions."

The way she said it clearly implied that limited to no training would actually be involved.

"What? We're _ten_ ," Helix said, outraged.

Ardanna nodded. "And their _ad'e_ are of similar age. It would just be to see if any chemistry happened. Childhood playmates and training partners often become lifelong confidants or _riduur’e_. You are all already accomplished warriors. Many see your value and would appreciate such a connection. Including several of those _ad'e_ you helped rescue on Concordia."

Jaster didn't doubt it. He'd heard a couple offers himself. One of them was, surprisingly, from Chieftain Kryze. The man was a New Mandalorian, but apparently his oldest daughter was resistant to the pacifist lifestyle. She wanted to be a _verd_. While Adonai Kryze didn't agree with Jaster most of the time, he apparently had at least decided that Jaster's supercommandos were a better group for his daughter, Bo-katan, to fall in with than anyone else. It was a sign of faith that Jaster hadn't expected. Maybe he should have; a good _buir_ would do much to make their _ad_ happy.

"Force, oh _no_ ," Waxer said with alarm.

The youngling's worry brought Jaster back to the present.

"Don't worry, _ad_ ," Jaster said with a wave. "Ardanna hasn't mentioned these inquiries to me likely for the same reason I haven't mentioned them to you all. While you might be physically the same age as many of the _ad'e_ of my _verd'e_ , mentally you are in a different league. They are still children."

"And we aren't," Helix said knowingly. The rest of the _vod'e_ nodded in relief. 

There was a hint of sorrow in the way Ardanna shifted in her chair, though he noticed she also cast a curious glance at him. 

One of these days he was going to have to explain himself. Hopefully, that day wouldn't be for a while. 

Cody pulled out a second blaster and started taking it apart with a resigned sigh. "I am not volunteering us to train with anyone's kids. They won't be able to keep up."

"Honestly, natborns our age wouldn't be up for the kind of training we did," Helix said. There were nods around the room.

If Ardanna had a reaction to the word _natborn_ , she didn't show it. He wasn't sure if she knew that they were clones. He wasn't sure if she cared. 

"Maybe the _verd'e_ ," Waxer said. "We already do drills with them sometimes."

"Yeah, but no one is gonna try to set themselves up with a ten year old," Boil pointed out.

"Or twelve, if you count the General," Crys said.

Cody shot him such a poisonous look that Crys actually flinched.

"Sorry, Commander," Crys muttered.

Cody shook his head sharply. "No, you're right. If there are _verd'e_ interested in a future arrangement with us, there certainly will be for the General."

From the narrowed eyed glare he'd adopted and the sharp, pointed way he cleaned each part of his blaster, Cody was planning on taking care of any such inconveniences personally. And _expeditiously_. 

"You're not allowed to kill any of my _verd'e_ for looking at your general wrong, _ad_ ," Jaster said with a sigh. He knew his _verd'e_. They were just as interested in fostering friendships and alliances across clans as they were scoping out potential future partners for their _ad'e_ , if not more so. No one would make any untoward moves.

Ardanna huffed out a short laugh.

"Noted, _buir_ ," Cody said. 

It was only a little worrying that Cody didn't even try to deny that he would have at least made an attempt, had Jaster not said anything. 

"That is _definitely_ gonna be a problem," Wooley said, shaking his head. He'd gone back to working on his repair. 

"What? Cody?" Jaster asked.

Cody didn't deign to acknowledge this at all.

"No, the General," Wooley explained. "He flirts like he breathes."

"He flirts with everyone he fights," Longshot pointed out.

"He's flirted with Sith and Darksiders. And pirates," Crys said. 

"He flirted with Hondo," Boil added.

"He flirted with _Mace_ ," Helix said. "And Mace flirted back. Probably on reflex." He half shrugged. 

Cody just let out a long suffering sigh. 

"Get him high enough on pain meds and he flirts with his tea cup," Waxer said with a snicker. 

"If he's tired enough, he flirts with his bed," Cody said, finally joining in, though he had a resigned air about him.

Jaster was dying trying to hold in the laughter. 

"I need to visit these gossip sessions more," Jaster said with a cackle. 

Even Ardanna was snickering. 

"How are the _jetiise_ enjoying their welcome gift?" Ardanna asked, probably to give Cody a break.

"Master Dooku thanked Ben and Cody at the last Council session they showed up for," Jaster said. "So it seems they liked the assorted items. I'm relieved that you decided to go for local specialties and consumables rather than sex toys."

He glared at his _ad'e_ and got nothing but snickers in return. 

"They pretty clearly haven't read the book yet, though," Cody said.

"Give them some time. They're busy at the moment." Helix waved his hand dismissively. 

" _Busy_ ," Waxer said, waggling his eyebrows at Boil.

"So, so busy," Boil answered in kind. They leaned in towards each other and grinned. 

Helix rolled his eyes and reached over to slap both of them on the back of the head, one after the other. 

"Busy recovering, _di'kut'e_ ," he said. "Master Sifo-Dyas looks like he got run over by a speeder."

Waxer and Boil just cackled. 

"You two are gonna be monsters once you hit your teen years," Jaster bemoaned. 

"They're monsters now." Helix glared at them. 

" _Vod_ , I'm hurt!" Boil clutched his chest and gave Helix a wounded expression.

"Yeah, in the brain --" 

"It's alright, Boil," Waxer said, patting Boil on the shoulder comfortingly. "He's just anxious about getting set up with someone's _ad_."

Helix switched his scowl to Waxer. "I'll pass. I'm already married to my job, thanks. Keeping your _di'kut'la sheb'se_ alive is more than enough to fill my time."

"So what you're saying is we need to get you a nice med droid to spend time with, huh?" Crys said.

Longshot nodded. "Get it the extra blaster attachment."

Crys wiggled his eyebrows at him. 

"It would last longer than any of you," Helix shot back, unimpressed. 

Ardanna's shoulders were shaking with laughter and Jaster was grinning. Kark, but his _ad'e_ could really dish it. 

Cody rolled his eyes at all of them and changed the topic again. " _Buir_ , Ardanna, how would we go about finding who owns a specific piece of land?"

"All deeds are registered under the city that they reside in. The records are public. Why?" Jaster asked, curious. 

"Master Sifo-Dyas gave us a datapad with some information on it. There were details for a piece of land outside Sundari's biodome." Cody fished around in his belt pouch for a moment and pulled out a small datapad. After poking at it a couple of times, he handed it over to Jaster.

Jaster scrolled through the listing. 

Like everything outside the biodome, the plot looked like a waste of space. The land in and around the domes was bought and sold, sometimes for storage, sometimes for harvesting of mineral resources, but this particular bit was just a mostly flat sheet of rock and sand. 

He frowned. Something about it was familiar.

Ardanna looked at it curiously. Jaster noted the coordinates and pulled out his own datapad and started to look it up in the holonet records. 

"Ro'ard Erisk," Jaster said, reading the landowner's name out loud. "That can't be right. That _or'dinii_ died a couple years ago. In a kriffing bar fight, if I'm remembering the story correctly."

He looked back at the plot information.

An unsettling realization settled in him.

"Oh. Oh, kriff." Jaster made a face.

"What?" Cody asked, alarmed.

Jaster handed Cody back his datapad and groaned. "Erisk was a terrible kriffing gambler. I won a scrap of dirt off of him ages ago in a sabacc game. Worthless, forsaken stretch of land. I tried to sell it for a while, but it wasn't worth the flimsi the deed was printed on. I guess I forgot about it."

The _vod'e_ exchanged confused looks.

"Why would Master Sifo-Dyas give us this?" Boil asked.

"Who even knows why _jetiise_ do anything," Longshot groaned.

"It's the will of the Force," the rest of them chorused with varying levels of resignation. 

Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're gonna give him a datapad of cryptic banthashit right back. It's happening."

"Let me know how that goes for you," Jaster said. 

He wasn't sure how the _jetiise_ would react, but he definitely wanted to find out.

"Remind them to get fitted for armor," Ardanna added. "If they are _riduur'e_ , then they need to have a token of it. The _jetiise_ on Coruscant won't know what the armor exchange means, and the _riduur'e_ will still be able to openly display their commitment while still staying hidden."

Waxer raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That's a pretty good idea."

"They might go for it," Boil said.

"Let's wait until after they read the armor manual," Cody advised. "That way they have some context."

"Or we could do it now," Wooley suggested. "Just convince one to give the other something to protect themselves with. You know _jetiise_. Kinda karking stupid about taking care of themselves and falling all over themselves to take care of others."

"But then they wouldn't get the significance of the armor exchange," Boil said.

"So? They are already _riduur'e_." Wooley shrugged. "This is just about other people seeing it. And if _mando'ad'e_ see the armor, they'll know what it means and be accepting, which might let Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas relax a little."

Ardanna nodded towards Wooley. 

Jaster thought, a little wistfully perhaps, of Dooku and Sifo-Dyas together. They were very fit. He bet they would look even better without their tunics on.

He didn't let himself linger on the thought. He really, truly wasn't interested in finding a spouse; he didn't have the temperament for that kind of long-term intimacy. 

A one night stand would have been pretty fun, though.

"You're sure they're _riduur'e_?" he asked again, holding out a grain of hope.

" _Buuuuuuir_ ," the _vod'e_ all groaned. 

Ardanna snickered at him.

\--- POV: Master Sifo-Dyas ---

Sifo-Dyas was mildly surprised by how quickly he'd recovered from his most recent bout of visions.

Two days out and he'd already felt immeasurably better. The day after that, he'd been nearly back to normal. 

Part of it had to be Doo and Ben Force healing him just after he collapsed. Having Doo's regular attentive care also helped.

But he had to admit that the acceptance and aid from the _vod'e_ had offered him a kind of relief that he wasn't used to feeling. Sifo-Dyas quite frankly couldn't remember the last time a group of people wanted to give him a hug, let alone curl up with him on the couch to ward away his nightmares. Doo was a gem and did his best, and Obi-Wan was joy incarnate. 

He still couldn't shake the feeling of how _nice_ it had been to be... wanted. Or perhaps 'accepted' was more accurate. He couldn't quite place it. 

Sifo-Dyas kept this to himself. It was likely a fluke, brought on by how much the _vod'e_ cared for Obi-Wan, who in turn seemed to care for Sifo-Dyas. 

It had still been nice. Pleasant enough that it had helped stave off the worst of the lingering dread from what he'd seen in the vision. Force, he was going to have to give a more thorough report of all of that to the High Council, and then sit through yet another lecture about how the future could not be reliably predicted. He felt tired just thinking about it.

That was a problem for when he got back to Coruscant.

Right now, Sifo-Dyas allowed himself to enjoy the moment, which was currently filled with the most amusing tea party he'd ever been a part of. It was the latest in a series of such events.

Doo and Ben had taken it upon themselves to educate Obi-Wan on the finer points of tea and tea time etiquette while Sifo-Dyas recovered. Sifo-Dyas had joined in, both because it was his duty and pleasure to mind Obi-Wan, and also because he would not have missed this for _anything_.

Where the _Mand'alor_ had dredged up a proper tea set, Sifo-Dyas had no idea, but here it was. He knew that most Mandalorians didn't much care for tea. 

They spread out the tea set in Doo's dining room, along with a sizable assortment of bite sized snacks and several different flavors of tea. Obi-Wan wasn't quite tall enough to properly see everything on the table, so they'd set a few pillows on the chair to lift him up. Ben was very nearly in the same position; he'd accepted a single stout pillow for his own chair.

Doo didn't so much as smirk at it. He presided over the tea as if he were entertaining the High Chancellor of the Republic. Doo and Ben then proceeded to show Obi-Wan what different teas looked like before they were brewed, and expounded on the different types and flavors. They then let Obi-Wan choose several to try. There were sweeteners available, only to be applied after the plain drink was tasted first, of course.

Sifo-Dyas watched with veiled amusement. He didn't want to detract from the serious nature of the gathering. 

It was very difficult, because they were all _adorable_.

He very surreptitiously took a few holos. 

Master Yoda might actually fall out of his hoverchair if he saw his old padawan entertaining a couple of younglings like this. While sharing the holos with the old troll might win him a few points of favor, however, Sifo-Dyas wasn't sure it would be worth the resigned sigh that Doo would give voice to when he found out. 

The situation was nearly more than he could stand, however. He sipped his tea and watched, carefully tucking away every part of the experience that he could, so that he could remember it well on future difficult days.

Doo's sharp features had eased into a gentle warmth as he explained again what the names were of each part of the tea set. Ben looked happy and at ease as he cradled a steaming cup in his hands. Obi-Wan's little face was a mask of concentration as he dutifully attempted to repeat what he'd learned. 

Sifo-Dyas took another holo.

It probably would behoove him to send copies to the _vod'e_. They were enthralled with their Cadet. Adding their General into the holos would only make their enjoyment compound. It was a politically smart move. He wanted their favor, if only for Obi-Wan's sake. 

He found that he simply wanted to share the holos for the sake of sharing, too. Wasn't that a rare thing? It wasn't often that he had things he wanted to share, and even rarer that he had people to share them with aside from Master Lene and Doo. 

The _vod'e_ would enjoy the holos so much. 

Sifo-Dyas very politely excused himself from the table for a moment and stepped over to the kitchen. It was rude, after all, to type messages while having tea. It was rude to take holos, too, but he thought that Doo and Ben would forgive him, and Obi-Wan didn't notice. 

He quickly typed a message to the _vod'e_.

_While I understand your reticence in joining us for tea, I thought you might appreciate seeing some of the highlights of the event. --Master Sifo-Dyas_

With that, he attached three of the best holos. One that captured Ben's relaxed smile particularly well, one that showed Obi-Wan's tiny frown of concentration, and one of all three of them beaming with delight over a particularly tasty blend.

As an afterthought, he sent copies of all of the holos he'd taken to Ben and Doo's comms, too. He thought they might enjoy a memento of their fun afternoon. 

He took another moment to flip through the pictures himself once more, and smiled. 

Force, he'd never been drawn to taking a padawan before but now...

Now he was very tempted. 

Something in the back of his head jangled uncomfortably at the thought. The Force felt very... mixed on the subject. There were very good things that could come of it, and some very dangerous things. Sifo-Dyas couldn't parse them. 

The sensations were distant, though. He had time to think it over and see how events unfolded. Meditation might help solidify the dissonance that he was feeling into a more accurate view of what he should be worried about. If there was anything to be worried about at all.

One thing he was certain of was that Obi-Wan's presence in his life would always be a treasure.

\--


	41. Chapter 41

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

It had been almost two rotations since they'd asked their _buir_ and Ardanna about the concerns Master Dooku had raised about arranged marriages. Thankfully for the state of his nerves, not a whole lot of note had happened since that discussion. The General had prodded them into one more group meditation after firstmeal, last rotation, and this rotation they'd taken the time to discuss Master Sifo-Dyas' visions and their implications a bit more before Kenobi had taken himself off to join Master Dooku and the Cadet for tea.

He and his _vod'e_ had followed Wooley to his lessons with Ardanna, as was becoming their routine, and that was nice. Those lessons were more than just time spent learning the trade alongside Wooley. The seven of them also got to take advantage of the opportunity to pick Ardanna's brain on various topics and then do the same to one another. Occasionally the armourer would pick their brains in return, asking about various aspects of their culture and probing the ways it differed from what 'mainstream' _mando'ad'e_ believed.

Judging by the way she watched them, cataloguing their every reaction to every question, Waxer suspected she was working up to something big she wanted to ask, but he wasn't sure what.

Their _buir_ had joined them again today, too. That meant a lot to the _Vod’e_ ; that he was willing to take time out of his schedule just to sit and socialize with them. It was also a good sign about the amount of work that was getting piled on his desk. During the campaign against the Death Watch they'd barely seen him at times. This was better.

"-- so it's really not going to go in _buir_ 's favour if he tries," Boil was saying to Ardanna when he tuned back in to the ongoing conversation.

Wooley nodded. " _Jetiise_ can be tricky to talk to."

Not sure what the topic had shifted to, precisely, Waxer kept quiet for the moment, and prodded at his _riduur_ in the network, trying to ask him.

"General Kenobi's no better," Longshot grumbled. "He loves to talk in circles until only he knows where the conversation's gone, and then in the end you find yourself agreeing with him in self-defense."

Snickering, Crys pointed out, "That was your own fault for trying to actually discuss something with him that wasn't tactics, _vod_. Kenobi is too karking good at just talking for the sake of saying words. Next time, just ask him to explain whatever it is to you."

Cody gave their techie a sardonic look. "Oh?" He asked pointedly. "Like you asked him how to update the security on your datapad, just so you could lord having access to the latest holonet games over the rest of Ghost Company?"

Waxer snickered. "At least he hasn't gone and asked Master Dooku if Sifo-Dyas is his _riduur_ ," he pointed out.

Cody rolled his eyes expressively. "Bad enough that we have to know all of the palace -- including you, _buir_ ," Waxer huffed, seeing that Jaster had the grace to look both amused and offended, though repentant was a long ways off. "-- is trying not to--"

Commander Cody's comm pinged, cutting him off mid-sentence and Crys looked very karking relieved to have a distraction. Waxer had to agree. Just the knowledge that his _buir_ thought Master Dooku was attractive was...

He didn't really quite know what it was. But it was weird.

When six more pings went off around him, he realised that whatever that was that he'd received, it had been sent to all of the _vod'e_.

Boil eyed his comm a trifle warily. "Odds that that's a call for help?"

Commander Cody scoffed, absently opening whatever file had been sent. "Slim to none. We'd have felt the General long before he commed us."

Waxer caught sight of the projected text at the same moment the others did and froze.

Wooley grinned. "Oh, this should be good."

"If Master Sifo-Dyas is sending us holos of their tea party," Helix added, mostly for Ardanna's benefit and their _buir_ 's, "they're almost certainly going to be of the Cadet."

Waxer couldn't stop himself from making a tiny squeak of glee. "I'm sure they're great holos, now, put them up, will you, Commander?"

The first holo caught them all a little off guard, even after that. Waxer felt like the breath had been knocked out of him, at the sight. The last time he'd seen General Kenobi _suum ca'nara_ had been...

He couldn't pin it down. Maybe never.

The calm smile he wore was one Waxer didn't recall seeing before. The General had managed to get close to this state a few times, during their more successful group meditations. He and his _vod'e_ had felt it. But this... what he'd achieved in that holo was a whole other level of serenity. 

"Ben really enjoys drinking that tea of his, doesn't he," Ardanna commented, reminding Waxer of her presence.

"He does," the Commander replied, openly staring at the holo in wonder. "It's always been something that lets him... calm himself down. It's not a way to sort out his thoughts... well, not that I know of. But it's a comfort."

The armourer nodded thoughtfully. "Many of our _verd'e_ have a similar habit of drinking caf to achieve that same state."

Their _buir_ nodded. "Darist gets that same blissed out look, when she has time to properly enjoy hers," he put in.

"That's not uncommon," Helix agreed. "Those sorts of associations with calm and comfort count for a lot, and they're often strongly bound up with the senses of smell and taste."

"Ooookay," Crys jumped in. "Let's skip over the lecture on incomprehensible medical things. There are two more holos."

The Commander shook his head at them, but didn't protest the lack of formality. The six of them still willingly followed him, trained enough to meet his high standards, and respected his decisions, despite no longer being formally under his command. That was -- apparently -- enough for him.

When he put up the second holo, Boil made a sound like he'd been sucker-punched. Waxer knew he wasn't much better off. _Kriffing hells_ , but Master Sifo-Dyas knew _exactly_ how to push their buttons. The Cadet was front and center in this holo, with the most adorable expression of utter focus and concentration on his face, Kenobi just visible to his right. The Cadet's tiny frown as he carefully followed Master Dooku's instructions was one of the cutest things Waxer had seen all week, and that was saying something.

Longshot groaned. "Kark, that is getting saved about a hundred different times over, just so we never lose it."

Crys nodded, his eyes wide. "Definitely."

Ardanna snickered at them. "All of you are just as devoted to the little one as you are to your General," she observed mildly. "And the two of them share the same surname. Are they _aliit_?"

Wooley picked that up to answer. "Not in quite the same way that the _Mando'ad'e_ use the term, but close enough. All _jetiise_ consider the entire Order their _aliit_."

Their _buir_ made a thoughtful sound. "So their younglings are like our foundlings, but without the option to refuse."

"It's a similar idea," Helix said wearily, "though it doesn't always quite work out that way in practice. And there's no option to refuse for a very good reason, _buir_. You know what happened to Master Sifo-Dyas in the training yard when he got that strong vision. The Force basically rose up and swallowed him and he couldn't do anything to stop it. I'm convinced that the only reason he survived it was that he had all that lifelong training in how to use the crazy powers that the Force can grant a _jetii_. Without that training? He'd likely be dead or totally incapacitated. At best he'd be awake and aware but unable to function normally. As it is? He's fine, most of the time. If you have the ability to feel and use the Force, you _have_ to learn how to control it. And let's not even start on the topic of helpless Force sensitive younglings and the slavers who love to target them, or superstitious _buir'e_ who mistreat younglings that can mysteriously make objects float."

"Master Dooku said some things to that effect when this topic first came up," Ardanna said, and Waxer could see her slotting the new information into place.

"Can we get back to the important part?" Crys asked pointedly and gestured at Boil who was leaning against the table and still staring at the holo, visibly trying not to just die of the cute.

Waxer snickered at his _riduur_ 's besotted expression and quickly snapped a holo of his own. "Are you gonna be alright there, _vod_?" He asked and put a hand on Boil's shoulder.

His _riduur_ never looked up. "Are you sure we can't keep him?"

"His place is at the Temple, on Coruscant," the Commander said firmly, "with the caveat that if he's mistreated we're getting him out."

"You _will_ come to me if you decide that is necessary," Ardanna interjected. When that made the _vod'e_ look up at her, all of them tense, she raised an eloquent eyebrow in reply and said, "You promised me you would, remember, _verd'ike_?"

Waxer relaxed. "Right, we did. And we will."

The Commander put up the third holo, then, and Waxer couldn't help the shiver of conflicted feeling that went through him at the sight, echoed by the rest of the network. All three _jetiise_ were leaning back in their seats with their eyes closed in enjoyment, holding cups of tea up to their noses and looking _very_ pleased with what they'd wrought.

On the one hand, it was a wonderful image. On the other... that was their General -- twice over -- having tea with his master's master, a man who'd been their bitterest enemy a bare handful of months ago, and somehow the General looked like he'd had a piece of himself returned that he hadn't realised he was missing.

It was bittersweet, if you knew the context.

Of course, only the seven of them and the General did.

Their _buir_ broke the building silence. " _Ad'ike_? Is something the matter?"

Longshot shook off the slight reverie that had come over the lot of them. "Nah, just considering what we should send back, if anything."

"We're sending him a list of things that are common sense, remember, _vod_?" Crys reminded him.

The statement got a snort out of their _buir_. "Dare I ask?"

"There was a list of supremely obvious advice that came with the information about that square of desert," Waxer explained.

"Cryptic banthashit," the Commander grumbled again, mostly under his breath.

They were all silent for a moment, after that, and then Ardanna cleared her throat meaningfully at Wooley. "Apprentice? Are those repairs finished?"

Their _vod_ glanced over at her in surprise, as though he'd entirely forgotten about the repairs he was supposed to be making, then turned to the electronics he'd been working on as they talked. "Well, I'm finished soldering this back together, but it still needs testing," he answered.

The look he got in return clearly said ' _so get on with it_ '.

"That's my cue," their _buir_ quipped. "Come join me and Jango for midmeal, _ad'ike_. I've barely seen you for the last few rotations."

"Of course, _buir_ ," Boil answered. "Just make sure you get enough food for the Cadet and his _buir'e_ , too. We'll be in our suite for the meal."

"Right." The _Mand'alor_ shook his head. "That little one is a real force of nature."

"So are all the other _jetiise_ we've had dealings with recently," Ardanna pointed out.

"True. All of them seem to have caught the attention of the _verd'e_."

Waxer groaned. "None of us wants to know that, _buir_ ," he grumbled.

"Agreed," Helix said with an air of finality. "And if they want anything from us they can wait a few years."

Ardanna outright laughed, at that, and shrugged. "You may yet be pleasantly surprised by what the _ad'ike_ of our _verd'e_ have to offer."

"Maybe so," Crys answered. "But we're not ready to think about that kind of thing."

"Speak for yourself," Boil retorted. "I'm spoken for."

Ardanna raised an eyebrow at him and Waxer wanted to wince. Boil cheerfully ignored the look, and so did their _buir_ , albeit carefully.

Beating a strategic retreat, the _Mand'alor_ reminded them. "Midmeal."

"Yes, _buir_ ," Longshot agreed. "We'll be there."

Ardanna eyed them all, clearly debating whether to ask, and then simply shrugged. "How are those tests coming?"

As Wooley dutifully gave her an updated status report, the Commander caught his eyes, and Waxer nodded. They'd have time after midmeal to get some training in, and then maybe they could brainstorm ideas for their list of cryptic nonsense if the Cadet didn't come hunt them down first.

The six of them settled in to watch Wooley work, paying close attention to what he did and what Ardanna instructed him to do, taking mental notes that they could share later. They all knew that the more different perspectives, the more sets of eyes watching a training session, the better. Crys, with his knowledge of tech, would pick up on different aspects than Longshot, whose speciality was in blasters and optics, or Helix, whose focus would be on the medical side of things. Their skill sets complemented one anothers', and they all got more out of any given hour with an instructor together than a single _vod_ ever could.

It was a skill they'd unconsciously perfected on Kamino, and gleefully took advantage of, now.

Perhaps, Waxer thought to himself, they needed to start applying it to the time they spent working with the General on their shielding. They were still struggling. Helix was doing better than the rest of them, and Waxer suspected that that was because Helix was a medic, and _had_ to keep his distance from his _vod'e_ or risk going mad when they got hurt or sent to him with horrifying injuries.

Feeling that kind of pain in one's network or even from peripheral _vod'e_ on a daily or sometimes hourly basis would be the worst kind of stressor.

He'd have to suggest to them that they all share their impressions of Kenobi's lessons, later.

There was no guarantee that it would help, but it was worth a shot.

The rest of Wooley's lesson went by quietly, punctuated by the occasional question from him to Ardanna. For the most part, the rest of them were also silent, though they asked one another and Wooley murmured questions when something interesting came up.

And then, once the tech had been repaired, tested, and declared fit to see use once more, Ardanna sent them on their way.

"Go on," she suggested pointedly, dismissing them to their other duties without expecting an answer, "get out of here and find your _buir_. I'm sure he would like to see you, even if it is not yet time for midmeal."

The Commander nodded, outwardly agreeing, but Waxer could feel that his plans for their free time and hers didn't quite align. "A good idea. Let's go, _vod'e_."

They all gave her a polite half-salute, and followed the Commander out of the armoury, falling into formation behind him automatically, pulling their buckets on as they moved. It was habit, pure and simple, drilled into them since almost before they could walk. Well-worn and comfortable. Waxer doubted they'd ever stop doing it. Even if it ever stopped being reassuring to have the Commander leading them -- which seemed about as likely as the stars standing still in their orbits -- they still respected him and his expertise.

It wasn't for nothing that _Commander Cody_ had been chosen to not only take command of the 7th Sky, but also to work with General Kenobi, who was well known to be _the_ front-line Jedi High General.

For all that he had his faults and scars like the rest of the _Vod'e_ , the Commander was karking excellent at what he did.

"Commander," he asked after they were out of Ardanna's earshot, "how much time do you reckon we have before the Cadet hunts us down and drags the General, Master Sifo-Dyas, and Master Dooku along in his wake?"

The Commander snorted, fond amusement audible in the sound. "Depends on just how long General Kenobi and Master Dooku can keep him distracted with that tea party of theirs. And _buir_ will be coming by with Jango and midmeal promptly, I'm sure. Whatever we do in the time we have, we need to make sure we're quick about it, if we aim to get it done before we're interrupted."

That seemed like a fair assessment.

Accepting that, Waxer simply nodded. The rest of what needed to be said could wait until they were in their quarters and had a bit more privacy.

Under two minutes later, they were seating themselves around their long table, their buckets placed in easy reach at their elbows, in another move that was ingrained habit.

A comfortable silence reigned until the Commander cleared his throat. "Wooley raised a very relevant point, earlier," he opened, his expression serious and his presence in the network feeling of a steely kind of determination. "The Cadet definitely seems to be aiming to maneuver Master Sifo-Dyas into taking him on as a padawan. Based on what we've seen here, the master would make a good teacher for him, too, but he's reluctant to follow through because of the ways his visions affect him. Which is entirely understandable and even sensible. But that leaves the Cadet without a master."

Helix caught the Commander's eyes in a silent request to take the floor, and got a nod. "Master Sifo-Dyas mentioned that there were a number of other interested Masters, who would be willing to take the Cadet as their apprentice, including Master Dooku, Master Plo, and Master Windu."

"Of those three, I know who I'd prefer," the Commander said and allowed himself to rub at his eyes tiredly, a sign of weakness he'd _never_ have shown aboard the _Negotiator_ or even after their trip through time.That sort of thing had stayed carefully hidden behind his usual implacable Commander's mask until he'd gotten somewhat forcibly yanked into the network, at last. "Master Sifo-Dyas seems to be a good man and cares about the Cadet. And, I agree, that _jetii_ would make a good master for him, if it weren't for those visions he gets. But he does get them, and they leave him even more of a wreck than General Kenobi after a long ground campaign with heavy losses."

"Sith-hells," Crys swore. "Just seeing what Waxer shared was disturbing, on that count," he agreed.

Longshot nodded. "He looked like someone tried to suck the life right out of him. And what he saw. Kark. It's no wonder he lost touch with reality in our timeline."

Waxer shuddered visibly. "Seeing that kind of horrifying future over and over, and having no one believe him?"

Boil winced. "Yeah, well, at least this time around we can make sure the High Council listens to him, if we have to."

"We can take advantage of the fact that General _Buir_ is on the Council, if we have to," Wooley pointed out. "He'd listen to us, and the Councilors respect him. Probably more than they do Master Sifo-Dyas."

"All of those are good points, but they're leading us off-topic. Do you think the Cadet would accept Master Plo as his teacher?" Helix asked. "You've heard the General. Very few Master-Padawan pairs form without both halves of the partnership reciprocally seeking one another out. They both have to want it."

The Commander said nothing.

"Hard to answer that, without asking the Cadet," Waxer put in. "In fact. It might be a better idea to do just that rather than try to guess."

"That's not a bad idea, _vod_ ," Wooley agreed. "I have a feeling he'd pick Master Dooku before any of the others, though. Our Cadet is quite attached to both of them. He's declared them his _aliit_ already."

That... was very telling wording. Waxer winced, and so did Boil.

"And you think Master Dooku will accept?" Waxer asked. "He's definitely fond of the Cadet. We've all seen how the youngling thaws Master Dooku right out and makes him karking _smile_ , even though he's clearly half-afraid he'll break the little one just by looking at him."

"He's had other Padawans before, and he seems to be a decent man," Crys said, slowly, picking his words carefully. "The Sith that was our enemy in our timeline... doesn't exist, here. Which is kriffing _bizarre_ to think about, but nonetheless true."

"Provided the General's plan to keep Dooku on the Light side of the Force works," Longshot spoke up, "I think that could be good for both him and the Cadet. Master Sifo-Dyas has said that the little one has visions of our General's past, that he may be getting snatches of memories from Kenobi. Finding him a Master who knows that part of him and can work around it will be critical."

Helix nodded. "That's a very good point, _vod_ , and it limits the selection drastically."

"It'd take a damned good swordsman and strategist to keep up with the Cadet once he's old enough to really take advantage of having our Kenobi's skills and knowledge in his head," Boil said with a nod. "Of those Masters that the Cadet would accept, I'm pretty sure only Dooku could keep up with him." He shook his head. "Things I never thought I'd advocate."

"Count Dooku was a karking good tactician," the Commander agreed, "and he's just as good now as he was in our timeline. He's outmaneuvered me a few times in conversation, almost as deftly as the General could have done it." He drew a deep breath and held it for a moment. "We'll have to watch that situation a little more, but I think Boil and Helix may have the right of it."

Waxer nodded. "Master Plo would be a good second choice, but I think you're right, Commander. It won't get that far. The Cadet will insist Master Dooku take him on, and he'll probably do so the moment he can get away with it."

"The General will insist that we need to keep looking for a way back to our time," Wooley said quietly. "I know Helix's comment about that cave entrance gave him hope, but I really don't think it'll be possible to get back. No matter how stubborn he is about it."

"Guess we'll find out," Helix muttered. "I was being facetious."

"We know, _vod_ ," Wooley replied and reached out to grip their medic's shoulder, offering support, should it be wanted, "but once the General gets that kind of idea in his head, he's got to follow through. That's just how he is. He needs to try to get us back through time to where we came from, and we need to let him try. His sense of duty and responsibility won't let him rest until he does."

The Commander nodded. "I can't say I don't feel it, myself," he admitted, not surprising Waxer at all.

Longshot gave him a knowing look. "The two of you are well matched," he commented.

"That's beside the point," Boil interjected, dragging them back on topic. "What's the plan, Commander? We've said we need to wait out the issue of the Cadet's apprenticeship for a few years, and that makes sense, but what do we do in the meantime?"

"Keep Kenobi alive, as he tries to get us home," Helix answered, drily.

With a rueful expression, the Commander nodded. "Not much else we _can_ do, right now. We don't have the kind of backup we'd need to run off across the galaxy with the General, though, no matter what he has to say on the matter. He might think he's worth an army, on his own -- and he might even be right about that -- but he's not invincible, either."

All of them nodded. They'd seen their indefatigable General push himself way past any sane limits more than once, and they'd also seen the price he'd paid for it.

"Right," Waxer threw himself behind that. "We've got time on our side. We can afford to play our cards carefully. Our timeline is either there waiting for us and we'll be able to get right back to the point where we left, anytime, or it's gone entirely and we've got no chance."

"I suspect it's gone," the Commander replied. "Our bitterest enemy there, is one of our closest allies, here."

With a sigh, Wooley offered, "I couldn't tell you _why_ , Commander, but I'm almost sure you're right about that. There might be a _chance_ we can get back, that we haven't changed things completely, but..."

Waxer's eyes closed without his say so, and he found himself echoing the wave of wistful longing that went through his _vod'e_ at the thought that everyone they'd known, every last _vod_ they'd been close to, back in their timeline, was gone, as though they'd never been. He swallowed hard. How would they ever say their Remembrances now? It wasn't fair to their friends to lump them all together, but they needed the best part of a rotation for the task, even without adding the rest of the GAR to the list.

Crys caught their eyes one by one with a hint of a tired smirk, and he pulled them out of that downward spiral by offering the best distraction he could think of. "So, now that that's as settled as we can make it, _vod'e_ , shall we write that list?"

The tension in the network eased, and Longshot laughed. "Got a spare datapad on you?"

"Nah, but it'd be easy to copy the files on the one Master Sifo-Dyas gave us over onto our own devices, so we can hand that one back. Neat as you please," their tech expert suggested.

The Commander shrugged. "Why not," he said, and handed the datapad over.

It took Crys all of a few seconds to have the data copied to each of their comms. It took almost no space, and if it truly was important for whatever bizarre karking reason, having several backups was no bad idea.

One more copy went on Helix's datapad, alongside his books on mind healing, and then Crys paused for a moment, his fingers poised over the keys. "Alright, _vod'e_ ," he quipped, "time to state the obvious."

Boil snickered. "Commander?"

Thus prompted, he shrugged and started them off, and Crys typed along as Commander Cody spoke. "The 212th wears gold accents. The Guard wears dark red, and the 501st dark blue. Always file your paperwork on time."

Boil grinned, and picked up the thread. "The cadets are the future; guard them well and teach them the _Resol'nare_."

Helix nodded, approving, then went on. "Mental health is just as important as physical. Eat and sleep when you can, there's no telling when you'll be able to next."

"Friendly fire isn't. Your armour is your life; maintain it well and it will return the favour," Wooley suggested their next bullet point.

Waxer laughed, and offered, "Ensure that all detonators are accounted for and not defective. Be nice to the quartermasters; they can and will make your campaigns miserable if you piss them off."

"A jetpack is good but a _jetii_ is better. Being dramatic is a good way to draw all enemy fire," Boil put in.

Longshot, who'd waited his turn patiently, said, "Never draw fire, it irritates everyone around you. If your attack is going well, you have walked into an ambush."

Crys, who'd waited until everyone else had their say, capped the list off. "Never forget that your weapon is made by the lowest bidder; maintain your blaster carefully."

And then, deciding they were satisfied with that list, they exchanged looks, and turned to the Commander.

"Good enough, that should be plenty," he said, then held out a hand for the datapad. "We'll hand it off when _buir_ and the others show up here."

A familiar-unfamiliar touch in the network heralded the end of the Cadet's lessons. Waxer got a garbled impression of lightsabre training and rooms, and blinked. "Uhh," he asked the room at large, "did any of you catch that?"

"Nope," Wooley answered.

Waxer huffed and shook his head. "Looks like we got that list done just in time, then."

The moment he'd finished the sentence, the Commander's comm chimed, as though someone had been waiting for their cue to call. The General showed up a moment later, coming into the suite to join them with his bucket tucked casually under his arm, just as the Commander answered whoever it was.

It turned out to be their Cadet, apparently having decided that voice comms would work better for what he had in mind. A short conversation later, things had been cleared up, Boil had tried to silently die of cute again, and they were waiting for the Cadet, Master Sifo-Dyas, and Master Dooku to join them in their suite.

A few minutes later, their door chime rang, and when they didn't answer the door fast enough, the Cadet started prodding at them in the network. _Vod'e? Vod'e!_

A once-rare smile tugged at the Commander's lips. "Come on, _vod'e_ , let's go have some fun with the Cadet. We'll help Master Dooku tire him out, so that we can train once he's done his best to run us ragged."

"Sir!" All six of them saluted, grinning right back.

This visit had done both the Cadet and their intrepid leader a world of good, and, Waxer knew, it had helped settle the General back in his skin too.

Totally worth every moment.

\--- POV: young Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

Obi-Wan looked at the Master Sy dubiously.

"No drills today?" he asked as Master Sy dug through one of their travel bags and pulled out several small boxes.

"Hmm, no. You have been working very hard on your forms, so I think this afternoon we might try a different kind of lesson," Master Sy said. 

He piled the mysterious items in one arm as he dug around in the bag with the other. 

"Obi-Wan, would you contact your _vod'e_ and see if they would like to join us for lesson after midmeal, and if so, could we please use their suite for it?"

"Sure, Master Sy!" Obi-Wan stopped trying to get a look at what Master Sy was collecting, and sat down to concentrate.

 _Vod'e!_ he thought through the network of Force bonds. 

Immediately, he got the mental ping of all of the _vod'e_ and his older self focusing their attention on him. 

Obi-Wan tried to send them a whole thought. _No 'sabre. Lessons? Your rooms?_

It was harder to send words, especially when he was dying of curiosity over what Master Sy had planned. Apparently, it didn't get through correctly. Obi-Wan got back a mix of understanding and confusion.

He frowned and tried to figure out where he got mixed up.

"Here, Obi-Wan. Go ahead and use my comm," Master Sy said, handing him the little device. "Remember, these buttons here start an encryption. Always encrypt your comms, just to be safe. Do you remember Cody's frequency?"

"Yes, Master Sy." Obi-Wan nodded vigorously. He rattled off the numbers and letters.

"Good job," Master Sy said with a warm smile. "Go ahead and type it in."

Obi-Wan was very, very careful to get it right. Master Sy checked it anyways before attempting to connect.

"Cadet," Cody's voice sounded immediately. "Everything alright?"

"Yes! Master Sy said no drills this afternoon. He's got some other lesson. You wanna come play?"

"Obi-Wan. Manners." Master Sy gave him an amused look.

Right. Obi-Wan nodded.

"Would you please come do lessons with me?" he asked very seriously. "If you want to come too, Master Sy wanted me to ask you if we could use your rooms?"

He could feel amusement through the network. Not that he expected they would be offended at how he'd asked, but Master Sy said it was good practice to be polite to everyone. 

There was the brief sensation of Ben and the _vod'e_ conferring.

"We have the afternoon free. You two can meet us here whenever you're ready," Cody said.

"Thank you!" Obi-Wan bounced in place.

"Obi-Wan, would you please ask them if Master Dooku can join us?"

After their tea party that morning, Master Doo had stepped out to go pick up lunch from the kitchens. Master Sy must have already talked to him about the lessons.

Obi-Wan remembered how to ask nicely this time.

"Cody, would it be alright if Master Doo c'n come, too?"

"Sure, Cadet. We'll set up an extra chair." Cody sounded like he was smiling. Obi-Wan loved it when he sounded like that. There were too many dreams where Cody was sad or grim.

"Yay!"

Master Sy gave him a look.

"I mean, thank you, Cody!" Obi-Wan added. "We'll be there soon."

"Alright, Cadet. We'll be ready."

Cody ended the comm and Obi-Wan raced around to get his boots and Blocky. He would have run down the hall, too, but Master Sy held him in check with a hand on his shoulder. 

One of these days, he was gonna find a way to run up and down the halls when no one was looking. There was a fun echo whenever he stomped, and he just _knew_ that running would sound even better. 

They got to the right door and ran into Master Doo, Jaster, and Jango, all of whom had boxes from the kitchen.

"Food," Obi-Wan said happily. 

Everyone was promptly ushered into the suite and got set up at the long table. 

Obi-Wan ate quickly. He was burning to know what Master Sy had planned. From the sparkle in his eye and the way he and Master Doo were smirking at each other, it _had_ to be good.

"Remember to breathe, _ad_ ," Jaster said, laughing.

Obi-Wan took a slow deep breath, which just caused the _vod'e_ to chuckle. 

There was a fair variety of food. Obi-Wan was happy to see that there were sandwiches cut in smaller triangles for him. They were easier for him to hold and it meant that he didn't have to touch the Dark Side Meat again. He looked at the curry with open suspicion as he claimed some fruit to go with his sandwich. 

"So what is on the lesson plan for this afternoon?" Waxer asked.

Master Sy took a sip from his water and looked at Master Doo. "Master Dooku has been doing an excellent job running Obi-Wan through drills the last few days. It seemed like a fine time for a rest day, especially as I am not quite feeling well enough to test myself in 'sabre practice just yet."

Master Doo looked approvingly at Master Sy. Obi-Wan knew it was because Master Sy was resting as he should. Dreams were really tiring sometimes. It was good that Master Sy wasn't gonna go run around. 

"But there is more to being a Jedi than just being good with a lightsabre," Master Sy said with a smile to Obi-Wan. "In fact, it is said that if you draw your 'sabre, you've already lost. We are peacekeepers first. Any seasoned knight will tell you that there are many skills required in the pursuit of peace."

For whatever reason, Master Doo was grinning. It was a slow smile that grew across his face with obvious satisfaction. Obi-Wan was _dying_.

"Young Ben is no doubt aware of how important words are," Master Doo said. "But a silver tongue isn't the end-all, be-all of diplomacy. And diplomacy can take many forms."

Master Sy nodded at him, and then turned his attention to Obi-Wan. "Today, my young friend, you learn how to gamble."

Jaster about snorted his drink out of his nose. Jango had to pound on his back to help him breathe.

The _vod'e_ just looked stunned, while Ben looked like he was feeling a mix of interest and excitement. 

"What's gamble?" Obi-Wan asked. He didn't think he'd ever heard that word. 

"To gamble, or gambling, is the process of placing bets," Master Sy explained. "A bet is when two or more people speculate on an uncertain outcome, like on who will win a game. Everyone puts forth something into the betting pool, and then whoever wins collects all. Everyone takes the risk of losing the item they bet in exchange for the chance of winning everything. A person can place bets on anything. We will be learning to do so over card games. Sabacc is the standard, but there are several common ones which you will become an expert at."

Master Sy looked very serious, but he had that slight crinkle around his eyes that told Obi-Wan that he was laughing on the inside. 

"You never know when being skilled at cards will save your life, or the lives of others," Master Doo said seriously.

A mix of excitement and mild dismay rippled through the Force bonds he had with his _vod'e_.

"I'm gonna go get my cards," Crys said gleefully. He zipped out of the room. 

Helix sat there shaking his head. Cody looked amused. 

Ben looked very excited. Or at least, he looked excited to Obi-Wan. He probably looked mildly interested to everyone else, but Obi-Wan could tell.

"Do we like this?" Obi-Wan asked Ben.

"We do," Ben said with his laughing-but-not-laughing face. "I learned as an initiate, but my Master taught me all the ins and outs of gambling when I was a padawan. He was very good. Everyone in my lineage was fantastic at it. I'd wished--" He cut himself off, and then gave Obi-Wan a wry smile. "It was fun, and something I tried to teach my padawan, too."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow and searched his memory of the fragmented dreams he'd had of their padawan. 

"He can't lie," Obi-Wan said finally, testing out the words to see if they rang true.

"Not for the life of him," Ben said dryly. "He has a terrible sabacc face. Though his padawan was better."

"How old _were_ you?" Jaster asked. "I know you told me, but remind me again. Your student had a student?"

"Mid-thirties? We all started early," Ben said with a shrug. There was a stiffness to his shoulders. Like an invisible weight had settled down on him. Obi-Wan could feel it.

There was the war, and the darkness, and a whole lot of other things that seemed to loom far away in the distance. Ben felt tired to Obi-Wan.

"You can feel it," Obi-Wan said. "The..." 

Words failed him. He sent a complicated burst of feeling through his bond to Ben. _Could Be_ 's and _Was_ and _Are_ and the feel of all of that future that needed them.

"Yes," Ben said. The word was weighed down with a sense of responsibility.

Obi-Wan chased the visions in his head, trying to get a more solid understanding of what had happened. Or what would happen? It was confusing and it kind of hurt. He stopped and rubbed his forehead. 

"Just let it settle as it will, Obi-Wan," Master Sy said quietly. "There's no need to force it."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, just like Master Sy had taught him, and let his frustration flow away. They had time.

A glimmer of a dream bubbled up. A table full of cards with piles of credit chips and death sticks and even someone's undergarments all scattered around. Most of the people at the table were _vod'e_. Older _vod'e_ in black body gloves and with tattoos on their faces. Ben was at the table with his padawan, who was a knight. Ben was _winning_. Their padawan was banging his forehead on the table top.

Obi-Wan giggled. 

"You won the red underwear didn't you?" he asked. 

Ben blinked for a moment -- probably attempting to place which incident Obi-Wan was talking about -- and then his serious face turned into a very satisfied smirk. "I did."

"General." Helix shot Ben a glare. 

Obi-Wan just kept giggling. It was so _funny_. "You won all his caff," Obi-Wan gasped out.

Ben's smirk turned into an evil grin. He picked up his cup to try and partially hide the expression, but that did nothing. "If my former padawan wanted to insist that I, the 'perfect Jedi', could not _possibly_ stoop to winning at something so vulgar as cards, then he definitely needed to be taught a lesson in humility."

Obi-Wan was almost crying, he was laughing so much. The look on their padawan's face was too good. 

"You gave all his caff to his _vod'e_ ," Obi-Wan said giggling. 

"It was a humanitarian gesture, for putting up with him," Ben said dryly. 

"I'm not sure if that's brilliant or evil," Jaster said, shaking his head. 

"What did you do with the underwear?" Jango asked.

"Jedi are not supposed to keep many possessions," Ben said. "So it wouldn't have been right for me to keep them. Instead, I gave them to the ship's quartermaster. After telling him the story of how I won them, of course, and who I won them off of."

Cody shook his head and sighed like he hadn't slept in a week. "Not our quartermaster. I would have remembered that. No, you gave them to the-- to your padawan's ship quartermaster. Force, Rex told me about that. They kept getting--" He glanced at Obi-Wan and obviously reconsidered what he was going to say. "The story spread pretty quickly. Rex laughed at Fives for _weeks_."

Ben radiated satisfaction and sipped his tea. 

Jango was snickering right along with Obi-Wan. There were a lot of mixed feelings coming from the _vod'e_ , though. Amusement and concern and a few other things that he couldn't get a good read on. It was enough to sober Obi-Wan up a bit.

Master Sy and Master Doo both had slight smiles on their faces, but Obi-Wan could see that they were a little unsettled. It wasn't the fact that they were sharing a memory; neither of the masters ever got upset about that. There was something else.

Before Obi-Wan could ask about it, Master Doo set aside his plate and took out a little box from Master Sy's pile of stuff. Inside the box was a stack of cards. 

Master Doo then proceeded to do _amazing_ things with them. He could mix them up in a way that looked like they were spinning and folding. He could do it with only one hand!

"My lineage also stressed the importance of skill at cards," Master Doo said. He did something to the cards, making them fly from one hand to the other, without using the Force at all! 

"Kri---" Crys started to say and then glanced wide eyed at Obi-Wan, "---illll. Krill."

Boil and Longshot both snorted in amusement at him.

"Bit of a card shark, eh?" Jaster asked Master Doo. He was shaking his head and smiling at the same time. Obi-Wan couldn't decide if he was impressed or sceptical. 

"Not at all," Master Doo said. He went back to mixing all the cards up with one hand. 

"Master Dooku spent his first few years as a knight being a Watchman on the Outer Rim," Master Sy said. The smile on his face was barely there, but he felt very happy in the Force. 

"Dangerous duty, that," Master Doo said with a nod. "Every skill is useful there."

"No Jedi lives a quiet life," Master Sy said softly.

"What's a Watchman?" Jaster asked in between bites. 

The rest of them were quickly finishing off their lunches with a bit more speed. Obi-Wan knew that he had to finish what he was given, otherwise Master Sy would give him an unhappy look, so he kept working on his fruit. 

"While many Jedi are assigned specific missions, there is a large group of knights that simply patrol dangerous areas," Ben said. "The assignment usually lasts for somewhere between five months and one year with a period of rest in between missions. Depending on the area, sometimes knights are given orders to look for a particular problem and solve it. Sometimes they are just tasked to help where help is needed."

Master Sy nodded. "While the Senate is one of the primary means for the High Council to acquire information on situations that need the Order's attention, they are not the only method." For whatever reason, this made Master Doo's face pucker up and sour. "Anyone can appeal to the Temple directly, and the Order is aware that there are many who simply do not have the means to do so. Thus, Watchers are sent to the far reaches of the galaxy."

"There are not enough of us," Master Doo said with an acidic bite flavoring his words. He was always well shielded, but Obi-Wan could feel a bit of coldness radiate from him. It was unsettling. "And corruption, pain, and suffering are rampant. Oftentimes those assigned to guard the vast reaches of space are simply overwhelmed. The Republic doesn't--"

His shields tightened and the cold feeling was gone, and Master Doo's expression was serene again. He switched to shuffling the cards with both hands. 

Ben and Cody exchanged a furtive, worried look.

"Master Doo?" Obi-Wan asked tentatively.

Master Doo just shook his head and smiled wanly. "Do not mind me, young one. My frustrations are many and inconsequential. Irritation with the galaxy at large often comes with age."

Obi-Wan gave Master Doo a closer look, up and down. His hair was salt and pepper grey, but still mostly black. He had a _few_ wrinkles. Little ones. Obi-Wan frowned.

"You aren't _that_ old," Obi-Wan said.

Master Sy covered his mouth. The Force around him danced with silent laughter. The rest of the table didn't bother to cover up their amusement. 

Master Doo looked at Obi-Wan flatly. "I'm aware, Initiate."

"Obi-Wan, it is generally considered impolite to address another's age," Master Sy said. "If it must be done, then you should be very careful. Not everyone appreciates it when you state the obvious."

That seemed pretty silly. The rest of the _vod'e_ must have agreed with him because they took one look at his expression and kept right on giggling. 

"Yes, Master Sy," Obi-Wan said dutifully. Maybe this was another thing that would make more sense when he got older. He got back to work on his fruit, and grabbed another piece of sweet bread while he was at it.

"I thought that we might start with introducing the cards today as well as some basic concepts," Master Sy said. He laid out several of the little boxes in front of him, just like the one Master Doo had pulled his stack of cards out of. "I also brought some initiate appropriate items to bet with."

He raised up a small bag and pulled out a small piece of foil wrapped candy.

Obi-Wan lit up with excitement. 

Master Sy pointed at Obi-Wan's plate, a silent reminder to finish his meal. Obi-Wan immediately got back to work on it.

"He's gonna be bouncing off the walls," Jaster said with a shake of his head.

Master Sy waved a hand at him. "It won't be that bad. These are small and made of fruit juices. The effect shouldn't be much worse than giving him a cup of juice to drink."

"Crèche Master Tinna approved sweets?" Master Doo asked.

Master Sy nodded. "We'll save the real contraband for later."

"What's cont'aband?" Obi-Wan asked. 

"It means 'things that you're not supposed to have'," Boil answered helpfully. 

_Ohhhhhh_.

Obi-Wan filed that information away for later. 

"I know that look," Ben muttered.

"I think we all do," Cody muttered right back. 

Lunch finished up soon after that, and the _vod'e_ cleaned up the table, clearing it of everything except everyone's cups. 

"Are you sticking around, _Mand'alor_? Jango?" Master Doo raised an eyebrow at them both.

"We have a little time to burn," Jaster said. Jango grinned in satisfaction. 

He reminded Obi-Wan of the _vod'e_ so much. 

Obi-Wan puzzled over that for a second, before he had to ask, "Jango, are you a _vod_ , too?"

For whatever reason, that made nearly everyone get really still, really quickly. This happened a lot when Obi-Wan asked about stuff he'd seen in his dreams and he was starting to get annoyed with it.

It was Cody who answered. "His experiences are different than ours, Cadet, but we are _aliit_."

Obi-Wan nodded. That made sense. He got the feeling through the network that none of the _vod'e_ really wanted to talk about it right now, so he let the subject go. Maybe later they'd tell him. Or maybe he'd dream it.

Master Sy started handing out little stacks of cards to everyone.

"Shuffle these, please," he said. 

Everyone else seemed to know how to do that. The _vod'e_ all did a no-nonsense folding of the cards together that made a very satisfying _prdddddddd_ sound. 

Only Ben even tried to do something as fancy as Master Doo. He made a large fan with his stack; it felt like he was testing the cards somehow. Then he split the stack into two. _Somehow_ he mixed them together, wiggling the cards around in between his hands, but for the life of him, Obi-Wan could _not_ figure out how, or even what, he was doing. They cards just moved too quickly, and they twisted around each other, flipping over his fingers back and forth between his hands. 

"Pay attention to what Ben is doing," Master Sy said. "That type of shuffle is specifically designed to make it confusing to look at."

"Why?" Obi-Wan asked.

"So that it is easier to cheat," Master Doo said with a dry smirk. "If the viewer cannot properly track the cards, then the dealer -- Ben, in this case -- can use sleight of hand to slip in different cards or take out undesirable ones."

"It's important to know this for two reasons," Master Sy said, picking up the conversation from Master Doo as if they'd practiced it. "One, you must be aware if others are attempting to cheat you. Yes, it is often possible to sense if someone is lying or cheating you with the Force, but many beings have very strong mental shields. It is not foolproof. The Force may give you a general warning of danger, but only if you are paying attention and only if you are able to sense it. That is not always an option."

Obi-Wan almost objected, because when _wouldn't_ he be able to sense the Force? Then he remembered some of his dreams and the conversation about poisons. 

"Like if you're collared," Obi-Wan said with a grim nod.

A few of the cards fell out of Ben's hands. Jaster winced, and the _vod'e_ felt hurt.

Obi-Wan patted Cody's hand, since Cody was closest. "It's alright, _vod_. We're all ok," he said, looking at the rest of them entreatingly. 

Ben looked absolutely blank, and Obi-Wan could barely feel him in the network. He picked up his cards and went back to shuffling.

Master Sy and Master Doo looked a little worried.

"Yes, that is a possibility," Master Sy said, finally breaking the awkward silence. 

Obi-Wan was grateful for it. He wasn't sure why everyone was upset. 

"It is significantly more likely that you might be mildly intoxicated, or simply distracted," he continued. "No one can be perfectly aware all of the time, no matter how skilled or experienced. The second reason to understand all the ways someone can cheat is so that you can do it yourself."

Before Obi-Wan could say anything about that, Master Doo leaned in across the table towards him, catching his attention.

"Cheating for the sake of winning or for personal profit and satisfaction is wrong," Master Doo said very firmly. "Cheating bad people for the express purpose of easing suffering and helping those in need is a very real option, and sometimes it is the _best_ option. Not every problem is solved with the Force or with fine words or credits. Sometimes a game of chance, tilted in your favor, will do more good than anything else you could attempt."

"It is dangerous," Master Sy said. "Never forget that. No one likes to be cheated, _especially_ people with power over others. People caught cheating are hurt, or even killed, in some places in the galaxy. This is just as dangerous a skill as wielding a lightsabre. Use your knowledge wisely, and for the greater good."

Obi-Wan nodded automatically even as his mind whirled with possibilities and information. 

"You _jetiise_ are not what I expected," Jaster said, leaning back in his chair.

"People see what they want to see," Master Doo said with a dismissive shrug. 

"And sometimes it is very useful to allow others to think that we are ignorant of some of the harsh realities of the galaxy," Ben added. It looked like he'd lost some of the tension in his shoulders that came from the mention of collars, so maybe he was alright now.

"Reputation can be an important tool," Master Sy said. "You'll learn more about that later. For now, let me show you the cards."

He then proceeded to lay out one of the stacks of cards, one by one, with the picture side up. There were a _lot_ of them. Some had simple pictures on them of coins, staves, sabres, or cups. Some had pictures of people on them. All of them were numbered. Obi-Wan's head spun with it.

"Can we look at these again later? So I don't forget?" he asked worriedly once they'd looked through all the cards.

"You'll get to keep one of these decks, just for you, so you'll be able to look at them all you like," Master Sy said with a warm smile. 

Obi-Wan sighed with relief and smiled. "Thank you, Master Sy!"

"I'm glad I'll be on Mandalore when Crèche Master Tinna discovers what you've done," Master Doo muttered to Master Sy.

"It will be fine. I'll teach him some memory games with them," Master Sy replied in kind.

Master Doo's expression said that he wasn't nearly as confident of the outcome as Master Sy, but he didn't say anything more. 

"So, let's start with a matching game," Master Sy said.

It took some coordination to get everyone a handful of cards. All of the extra cards got dumped in a pile in the middle of the table. Cody helped Obi-Wan figure out how to hold the cards right while Master Sy briefly explained the rules. 

"Everyone starts with five cards," Master Sy said, gesturing at the table around them. "The goal of the game is to make matching pairs, which means two cards that are exactly the same. When it's your turn, you can ask one person if they have a card."

He pointed at Master Doo, who turned to Jaster and said, " _Mand'alor_ , do you have any elevens?"

Jaster looked at the cards in his hand and shook his head. "Go hunting," he said, and pointed at the pile of cards in the middle of the table.

"You see?" Master Sy said. "If Jaster had had a card with an eleven on it, no matter what the picture on the card was, then he would have had to give it to Master Dooku. But since he did not, Master Dooku had to draw a card from the pile."

Obi-Wan nodded, his face tight with concentration. 

"If Master Dooku has in his hand two cards that match then he sets them down in front of him. These count as points to win the game. The game ends when someone who is playing is no longer holding any cards. Points are added up, and then we find out who wins."

They went around the table, each taking a turn as Obi-Wan watched. Cody let him look at his cards, which was really helpful, and Obi-Wan showed Cody his cards in return.

"Cody," Obi-Wan whispered. "We should share our cards, and then work together to beat everyone else."

Cody grinned. Apparently, Obi-Wan wasn't quiet enough, because everyone else was laughing or smiling, too.

"That, young Obi-Wan, is against the rules," Master Sy said. "You must work alone."

"Oh." Obi-Wan frowned. "That's dumb. We'd probably win more if we shared cards."

This caused more snickers.

Master Doo nodded. "That is true, Obi-Wan. Would it be fair for you and Cody to work together while everyone else works alone?"

Obi-Wan pursed his lips as he thought about it. "They could ask someone to help, too," he pointed out.

"True. And what if the rest of the table decided to gang up on just you two?" Master Doo raised an eyebrow at him.

Obi-Wan dropped his jaw in shock. "But! That would be mean!"

"Yes. So to keep things fair, everyone plays by the same rules, and currently the rules are that everyone plays alone."

That made sense. Something about it was still bugging him, though.

"But I've dreamed about having secret teams when playing cards before," Obi-Wan said finally.

Several of the _vod'e_ raised their eyebrows at Ben, who looked totally unrepentant. 

"Sometimes cheating is required," Ben said, unperturbed. 

"That is also true. First, you must learn how the game is played, Obi-Wan, then you can learn all the ways to cheat." Master Doo smiled slyly at him. 

"Yes, Master Doo," Obi-Wan said with a nod. He could do that. 

They took turns around the table a few times, which was fun. Eventually someone ran out of cards in their hands and matching pairs were added up. Crys ended up winning, much to his evident enjoyment. 

"So. That's Go Hunting," Master Sy said. "Now we will play again, and this time we will point out all the ways you can cheat."

Obi-Wan bounced with excitement. 

Cards were mixed up and then everyone got their own handful again.

"Secret teams!" Obi-Wan said. He grabbed Cody's arm.

"Secret teams are one way to cheat, yes," Master Sy said. "But cheating is against the rules, and for good reason. It makes the game unfair. With that in mind, how would you have a secret team with Cody without anyone else realizing it?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "We could talk really quietly." He whispered that just to show them how.

Waxer leaned on Boil and groaned. 

Boil just patted his arm and said, "I know, I know."

Jaster rubbed his face with one hand and gave Waxer and Boil a tired look. "I want grandkids, _ad'e_ , but I really need you two to wait until you're of age first."

Master Sy was smiling his happy smile, the one that meant he was light at heart. "Talking quietly might work, but it might not, Obi-Wan. There are many sentients in the galaxy that have very keen hearing, and many gambling establishments that monitor the games with recording devices and cameras. What else could you do?"

Obi-Wan wiggled as he thought about it. "Talk to Cody before the game started?" he asked.

"Yes, that's a possibility. What else?"

This was hard. Harder than just playing the game. Obi-Wan heaved a frustrated sigh. 

He felt his _vod'e_ reach out to him through their bonds, offering him support and encouragement.

_That's it!_

Obi-Wan sat upright with a sharp jerk. 

"I can just think at them!" he said, bouncing in his chair.

Master Sy, Master Doo, and Ben all grinned at him, while everyone else got this vaguely surprised look on their faces. 

"You are in a very unique position, Obi-Wan," Ben said, setting his cards down. "The Force is with you, always. Which means that you will be able to touch others' minds. You'll be able to read their thoughts, sense their emotions. You can use the Force to suggest that they do things. You can drop images into their head or pluck them right out. You will be able to sense what card is the right one to ask for, and whom to ask for it. You can sense which card to pick up from the pile. You could even use the Force to add extra cards to your hand or to the draw pile in the middle, or take them away. There are a hundred different ways that you can change the game, twist it in your favor with the power you wield. Now. Tell me why you should never do those things, not unless there is the greatest need."

Ben's eyes bored into his. It was like looking into a great big ocean; there were a million things swimming under the blue, good and bad and everything in between. 

He knew the answer like he knew his own heart. Like he knew Ben's heart. 

"Because it's bullying. It hurts people," Obi-Wan said. "Maybe not a lot, maybe they never know, but it's not fair."

"That's right." Ben smiled at him, and a flood of reassurance flowed into him. "Now, you and I are luckier than most, because we have our _vod'e_. They know what we can do and they trust us to use our abilities wisely. To never harm them. Which means that they would probably let you into their minds to see things like the cards, if you asked them. That is a _gift_ , and one you should always treasure."

"Yeah," Obi-Wan said, mildly offended. _Of course_. He'd rather sit alone all day than do anything that would make his _vod'e_ feel bad. 

That feeling of warmth in the network redoubled, as if all of his _vod'e_ were giving him a hug all at once. The feeling extended to Ben until they were all wrapped in Light. Obi-Wan's heart squeezed in his chest, but in a good way. 

"When you cease to treasure the gifts that your loved ones give you, when you feel it is your _right_ to have those things, and that your will is more important than anyone else's, _that_ is the path to the Dark Side," Master Sy said. "We must always be on our guard."

Ben and Master Doo both nodded. Jaster and Jango looked a little surprised by the turn the conversation had taken. 

It took concerted effort for Obi-Wan to tear his attention away from the warm, happy hum of the Force bonds, but Master Sy had said something that sparked his interest.

"Master Sy, what is the Dark Side?" he asked.

"It is selfishness," Master Sy said promptly. "Selfishness that is so all encompassing that there is no room for others, not their joy, their love, or even their lives. Those who Fall to the Dark only care for their own amusement and satisfaction, which means that they are willing to do great evil to others simply because they want to."

"That sounds lonely," Obi-Wan said. There were flickers in his mind, glimpses of dreams that featured yellow eyed people in dark robes with red sabres. They were so _angry_. He'd never felt anger like that before. 

"It is." Sadness filled Master Sy's voice. "But those who Fall to the Dark seldom realize that. They are so caught up in their own pain, fear, and rage that they cannot see that what they crave is the Light."

Master Sy slowly began reorganizing the cards in his hand. Obi-Wan waited. There was something more that needed to be said; he could feel it. Something important.

"I will tell you a secret, Obi-Wan," Master Sy said eventually. "Though I'll ask you to keep it to yourself. Most of the Order does not agree with me on this particular point."

Ben leaned in to the table, though Master Doo didn't. Which told Obi-Wan that Master Doo knew what Master Sy was going to say. 

"Obi-Wan, there is no Darkness so deep that Light cannot reach into it," he said quietly. "Master Yoda would tell you that once you step onto the path of Darkness, that it will forever guide your steps. There is wisdom there. It is incredibly difficult for one who has accepted Darkness into their heart to purge it. But it is _possible_. They just have to choose to do it." Master Sy stilled his hands and looked at him. "Nothing is impossible with the Force. Some things are merely very, very difficult."

That was the most surprising thing that Obi-Wan had heard all day. Everyone knew that to Fall to the Dark was to be lost forever. _Everyone_. 

But... Master Sy's words rang true in the Force. 

Master Doo had a wry little smile on his face, and he was looking at Master Sy out of the corner of his eye. 

"Most do not agree with Master Sifo-Dyas," Master Doo said. "They would much rather solve their problems expeditiously, preferably with lightsabres."

Ben huffed out a laugh. "My former padawan is like that," he muttered. 

From what Obi-Wan remembered of their padawan, there were nearly always explosions and lightsabres involved _somewhere_ when he was around. 

Obi-Wan puzzled through everything that he'd been told, and what his dreams told him.

"If cheating is bad, and using the Force to help with winning isn't fair, then why do we keep cheating at cards all the time?" he asked Ben with exasperation. 

The _vod'e_ started snickering and Jaster rested his face on his hand. 

Ben smiled, slow and smug. "First, because it's good to stay in practice, so that when you _really_ need those skills they are available. Second, because the games I usually play have very little risk involved. No one gets hurt from what I do, and often my winnings go towards a good cause. Third, sometimes padawans need to be taught a lesson."

An image got pushed to Obi-Wan through their bond. It was their padawan looking outraged at Master Yoda. Both of them had cards in their hands. Master Yoda's ears were pointed up in satisfaction and he was gathering a pile of credit chips towards himself with the Force. 

Obi-Wan giggled. 

"Master Yoda plays cards?" he asked.

"Who do you think taught me?" Master Doo said with an elegantly raised eyebrow.

"Pssh." Master Sy waved a hand at him. "We both learned more from Master Jocasta than anyone else." He looked at Obi-Wan and winked. "She can keep track of who has what card all just by thinking about it, no Force required. She counts them in her head."

He fished out a little wrapped candy and passed it over to Obi-Wan, who hurriedly grabbed it. 

"There. For being such a good listener," Master Sy said. "Let's play another game, _no cheating_ , and this time we'll allow bets."

He handed out candy to everyone. While the _vod'e_ collected their pieces with interest, Obi-Wan was the most enthusiastic. 

It took very little effort for Master Sy and Master Doo to explain the basics of betting, but significantly more effort for them to convince Obi-Wan to risk his little pile. If he bet them then that meant that he might lose them and then he wouldn't be able to eat them. Which seemed ridiculous to him. 

Ben finally won him over to the idea by saying, "If you win more candies, then you'll have enough to share with your _vod'e_."

Obi-Wan had gasped with the realization of it and then promptly began to place bets along with everyone else. The _vod'e_ all glared at Ben, and Crys and Waxer both assured Obi-Wan that they would all share anyways.

After several more rounds, they switched to a different game. This one involved getting the highest number. Obi-Wan couldn't add the cards right, but Cody helped him. They were an official team rather than a secret one, so it was alright. 

At some point, Jaster and Jango left to go do work, and Helix brought out some of the leftovers from lunch for everyone to nibble on. Obi-Wan collected a small hoard of candies which he piled in front of him, being very careful to make sure that none of them rolled away or got nudged off the table. He planned on saving it for an ideal time to cheer his _vod'e_ up. Like emergency rations. 

Eventually, Obi-Wan got too wiggly to sit at the table, but Master Sy, Master Doo, and Ben were deep into a heated game of some kind, with Cody, Wooley, and Crys watching avidly. Longshot, Helix, Waxer, and Boil took him into the sitting room and started playing a mimic game with him. There was a lot of jumping and making silly faces. 

Master Sy joined them pretty quickly, though he just sat on the couch and watched. He held a cup of hot tea cradled in his hands. Peace radiated off of him in the Force, and Obi-Wan thought that he looked really happy and only sort of tired. 

\--


	42. Chapter 42

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

The following rotation had felt like it dawned late. Ben found himself lying awake in the dimness that preceded the day, comfortable though he was, and thinking back over their games of simplified Sabacc and Go Hunting.

It had been something of a relief to see that his _vod'e_ had enjoyed themselves teaching their Cadet how to gamble properly. Crys in particular had taken to the task with something akin to relish. Their collective mix of offense and outrage at the implication that they wouldn't share their candies with Obi-Wan had had Ben biting back a fond smile.

Once a group of troopers adopted someone, clearly that person was to be considered _theirs_ , and they were quite possessive, in that respect. The seven _vod'e_ that had been flung back through the decades with him had declared him one of them, and then not hesitated to extend that to his younger self.

He hadn't been kidding when he'd told the youngling that their trust was precious to him.

As the light had waned, they'd gathered in their dining area once more for latemeal, and then Masters Dooku and Sifo-Dyas had pried Obi-Wan out of Waxer's arms so that they could see the little one to his rest.

Boil had poked fun at his _riduur_ , taking holos of the _vod_ 's devastatingly effective pout, and the others had quickly joined in, smiling and joking at one anothers' expense until it was time for them to bed down, themselves.

All in all, it had been a good rotation, despite the painful memories Obi-Wan's questions had dredged up.

Shoving the thought hurriedly aside, lest he wake his _vod'e_ with his brooding, Ben forced himself to relax.

He could put his time to more productive use and decide what they should do, once the early meal was over. It was tempting to rouse the lot of them and prod his men into training with him after they'd satisfied their appetites. It hadn't been all _that_ long since they'd trained together properly, since they'd been taking advantage of the youngling's lessons to get their own workouts in, but the _vod'e_ had been hesitant to do their favourite exercises with the little one underfoot.

It hadn't mattered just how many times Ben had reminded them that he and the other two masters would make sure no injuries worse than a scraped knee occurred. Cody had put his foot down and Helix had concurred. The others had immediately backed them up. But Ben could see how they were chafing at their own self-imposed rules.

The other sensible option would be to prod his _vod'e_ into practicing their shielding. Wooley was improving steadily, able to hold heavier shields, and do it for longer. Granted, a large portion of that was simple self-defense against Ben's prodding in the Force, but it was still an improvement.

Helix wasn't far behind, though that was partially because he'd started out with what had felt like rudimentary shields, and simply worked to strengthen them. The other five of his troopers... were struggling. Both with the knowledge that they'd be cut off from the network if they shielded it properly, and with the knowledge that they'd feel 'dead' to the others, if they did.

Once they had enough of a grip on what a shield was, Ben intended to show them how to implement Plo's trick, but they had to know how to put up a shield at all, first. Showing them that technique, Ben was certain, would make a lot of their hesitance simply vanish.

The question was: how to get them over that first hurdle?

Behind him, Cody stirred. "Gen'ral?"

Ben reached up to run a hand through his Commander's hair, soothing and wordlessly offering him the option to go back to sleep. "All's well, Cody," he replied quietly. " _Morut'yc_."

The reply got him a hint of a pleased smile that vanished again when Cody stretched carefully. "Mmm, you're up early."

"Couldn't get back to sleep," Ben admitted.

Waxer huffed. "So y'started plannin'?"

"Could feel it," Helix agreed.

Crys made a grumpy sound and buried his face in his pillow. "Time's it?"

"'Bout 0730," Longshot answered around a yawn.

"Ugh, I want some caf," Boil muttered, and rolled over his _riduur_ so that he could get to his feet.

They spent the next hour and a half enjoying a leisurely breakfast with their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ , who both seemed pleased to find them in their suite and collectively in a good mood.

"And what are you planning to do, this rotation?" Their _buir_ asked.

Ben watched, bemused, as six _vod'e_ turned as one to look at Cody, non-verbally shoving their Commander into the spotlight. With a shrug, Cody answered, "I don't think that's been decided yet, _buir_."

Jango leaned forward and planted his elbows firmly on the table. "In that case, since we both have the morning free -- for kriffing once -- I'd say it's high time Ben showed us those tricks he promised he would, before the _jetiise_ showed up to do their testing."

Their _buir_ grinned broadly. "I feel like I haven't had a real opportunity to actually fire my blaster in _months_."

Longshot looked vaguely horrified by that idea. "Come train with us, then, _buir_ ," he suggested, and Ben felt the network of Force bonds between the _vod'e_ resonate with their agreement.

"I see no reason why we shouldn't do just that," Ben agreed. "And, in the afternoon, I intend to make the lot of you practice meditation and shielding."

Boil groaned, dramatically letting himself fall against his _riduur_ , but didn't protest further.

Crys laughed at him and prodded at Boil's shoulder. "Come on, _vod_ ," he said, unsuccessfully trying to hide his amusement, "it's not that bad. I like it. It's restful."

"But I'm terrible at it," Boil answered, not removing his face from Waxer's shoulder.

"The only way to get better is to practice," Helix pointed out, ruthlessly pragmatic as always and entirely correct.

Jango shook his head at their antics. "Come on, _vod'ike_. I'm itching to shoot something."

Smirking at his _ori'vod_ Ben got to his feet. "After you," he answered simply, gesturing broadly toward the door.

Grinning back, Jango stood, and pulled his bucket back on. "You're not going to drag me out of the air again, this time, are you?"

Their _buir_ chuckled as he stood and pulled his own bucket over his head. " _Ad_ , if you haven't figured out how to defend yourself against that yet, I'll be disappointed."

"I can always fling you into the air instead, if you prefer," Ben offered, getting a few giggles out of his men, who'd formed up behind him during the short discussion.

Jango shrugged. "You know what, why not. It looked like fun when you did it to your _vod'e_."

"Oh, this should be good," Crys said over their private comms with a snicker as Ben started them moving.

"We should ask the General to juggle us like General _Buir_ does with his Wolfpack," Wooley put in.

Helix sighed, sounding put upon. "One of these rotations, one of you _di'kut'e_ will break something vital, and it'll be my job to fix it." 

Cody put in drily, "How is that different from any other rotation, Helix?"

Before anyone could respond to that appropriately, they were at the door to the training yard. A small group of four _verd'e_ wearing _beskar'gam_ painted with familiar colour schemes were practicing hand-to-hand combat off in one corner of the large space. Three more were practicing their shooting. The _vod'e_ didn't stop to say anything, simply starting their warmup exercises and acknowledging the _verd'e_ with no more than a polite wave. Jango watched them for a few seconds, before their _buir_ clapped a hand to his shoulder and reminded him that they both needed to follow suit.

The seven practicing _verd'e_ \-- who'd spotted them the moment they'd appeared -- finished what they were doing then settled in to watch. Ben saw three of them readying miniature holocams, and knew that recordings of this training session of theirs would be making the rounds shortly, joining the others in circulation.

Starting his own warmups, Ben let himself shove those thoughts aside, sinking into the movements he was making and quieting his mind.

When he reopened his eyes, not sure when he'd closed them, his _vod'e_ were just finishing their own stretches, and Ben could see that Jango and their _buir_ had joined them.

With a smirk, he simply grabbed for Boil and lifted the _vod_ up into the air. Boil made a startled sound, then whooped happily, letting himself hang, limp and trusting, in Ben's hold. Spinning him slowly and enjoying the pleasure coming through their bond, Ben grinned. "So, how about it, Jango? _Buir_? Care for a flying lesson?"

Cody snorted, clearly believing that to be a question with an obvious answer. "That does mean one that doesn't involve jetpacks," he added, pointedly turning his bucket to look at Boil to get his meaning across.

Jango thought that over, then shrugged. "That'll take some getting used to," he said, "but alright. I'll try it."

Ben picked up the rest of the _vod'e_ and let them drift in the air with Boil, like gossamer threads on the wind. "It's perfectly safe," he said. "I won't let you fall unless you're prepared for it."

With a nod, their _buir_ agreed. "I know you won't, Ben," he answered, nothing but calm confidence -- and maybe a hint of anticipation -- in his voice.

"Once you're used to the feeling," Ben added, "if you want to, you can try out what my _vod'e_ refer to as the flight training drill."

Jango sounded like he was grinning. "That's the one where you throw them up to high places with the Force, isn't it?"

Ben wrapped them up in his hold, though he didn't lift either off the ground yet. "It is."

"That feels... strange," their _buir_ muttered. "Warm."

"Yeah," Jango agreed.

"It's always like that," Waxer piped up, lounging on thin air as though he were sunning himself. "Feels nice. Like being hugged."

As he spoke, Waxer protected a hint of the feeling he meant along the bond they shared. Ben had to suppress a shiver. It was a feeling he wasn't sure how to describe, never having felt his own touch in the Force like that, filtered through someone else's perception, but it truly did remind him of a strong comforting set of arms around him. With a gentle touch to Waxer in answer, he turned his attention back to his _buir_ and _ori'vod_.

Gently, incrementally slowly, Ben lifted, until Jango and _buir_ were standing about a finger's width off the ground, and waited for them to notice. The tiny change wouldn't be seen by the watching _verd'e_ , so if he needed to set either or both of them back down it wouldn't take much or draw attention. He didn't expect that that would be necessary, given that both of them were well-trained and experienced _verd'e_ , as competent with their jetpacks as any of his _vod'e_.

"So," Jango asked him, "What now?"

Ben smirked. "Now, you get accustomed to the feeling of standing on air. It can take a minute."

Jango nodded and went to adjust his posture, then froze. "Kark," he muttered, "you could've said you were already floating us, _vod'ika_."

The _Mand'alor_ , tipped off by Jango's reaction, looked down. "Oh. That feels just like being on solid ground."

Ben let his _vod'e_ spin around lazily in the air above his left shoulder. "Sometimes. I don't bother with that for more experienced fliers."

"Except Captain Rex," Helix pointed out.

Cody winced. Ben felt it in their Force bond, and had to work not to ask. Cody didn't always react well to questions about his friendship with the blond captain. "Except Captain Rex," he agreed. "But that's one _vod_ that hates flying."

Jango looked at the seven _vod'e_ that he was keeping in the air, and snorted. "Hard to believe," he said, his shoulders coming down a bit, as he relaxed into Ben's hold.

Ben rewarded him by hiking him up higher off the ground.

Jango immediately tensed again, but it took him less time to get used to the fact that Ben was holding him up, the second time around. "This isn't so bad, but you were right; it does take some getting used to."

Cody laughed at their _ori'vod_. "Just wait. Getting a boost into the air is even better."

It wasn't so much a request as a dare, judging by Cody's tone. Ben let his Commander freefall until he was about a hand's breadth above the ground, but didn't get the startled yelp he'd been hoping for -- and then flung Cody up into the air over the central building of the palace.

The rest of his _vod'e_ followed, one by one, until only Wooley and Helix were left. With a smirk, Ben gathered them both up, and flung them skyward in tandem, drawing pleased peals of laughter out of them as they opted for a lovely synchronised set of flips and tumbles.

Jango caught his attention and tilted his bucket. "Well? Where are you sending us?"

"Do you have a preferred landing point?" Ben countered. "I know my _vod'e_ and what they're comfortable with."

"The palace walls or the roof," _buir_ suggested. "We're good with a jetpack, but this is something new to us."

"Alright," Ben agreed, "up you go, then."

He sent Jango into the air first, giving him enough momentum that he'd be able to turn his trajectory into a high arc, if he so chose. Jango, unused to the different feel of getting Force flung rather than using his jetpack's thrusters, wobbled in the air a little bit, before he got himself positioned correctly for the landing. He managed to pull it off without more than a quick touch to his jetpack, too, which wasn't bad for a first attempt.

"Your turn, _buir_ ," he said, as he watched Boil congratulate Jango on the neat landing. "Last chance to back out."

" _Nu draar, ad'ika_ ," came the response, and he could tell his _buir_ was grinning broadly. "I want to try this."

Ben couldn't help but grin back. He adjusted his 'hold' on his _buir,_ and then, on impulse, flung them both upwards, using the Force to send himself soaring into the air right alongside the _Mand'alor_.

His _buir_ turned out to be just as at home in the air as his _vod'e_ , though he wasn't quite as nimble, and he landed on the roof of the palace's central building with a solid thump. Ben set himself down next to him.

"Now I see why your _vod'ike_ like this so much," he said thoughtfully. "It's not the same as a jetpack. Less abrupt."

"I've had even more practice throwing them than they have in getting thrown," Ben pointed out. "That makes for a much smoother flight. When Master Plo tried it, it went much less smoothly."

With a shrug, his _buir_ accepted that. "Come, _ad'ika_ , let's rejoin the others," he suggested.

Ben wound up flinging Jango and his _buir_ onto various points of the palace while his troopers ran drills and practiced their marksmanship, and then they switched, because both Jango and their _buir_ still wanted to shoot things.

The feeling of warm satisfaction and contentment that was saturating the network around him, the glowing sensation of a good workout, had Ben smiling as he did a few 'sabre katas and then allowed himself to be persuaded to do blaster practice with his loyal troopers.

Before he really knew it, the morning had flown by, and both his _buir_ and _ori'vod_ were forced to hurry back to their respective suites to quickly eat midmeal so that they'd have time to hit the 'fresher before they needed to be in public.

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

The eight of them had a grand total of ten minutes of peace to revel in the lingering afterglow of their training session after their own showers and midmeal.

Their door chimed, announcing a visitor, and all eight of them knew _exactly_ who it had to be.

When they weren't quite quick enough for the Cadet's taste, he poked at the Commander through the network, and Waxer watched the Commander's expression go softer.

 _And he says Boil and I go gooey._ It was tempting to poke fun at the Commander, but Waxer held himself back. It _probably_ wouldn't fall flat, but he didn't want to risk the Commander's mood. Having the Cadet around was both the best and worst thing for that, on its own. The little one had a habit of asking questions that made both the Commander and General Kenobi go still and silent, both physically and in the network, in that way that Waxer knew meant they were wrestling some bad memories back into their respective boxes.

Kenobi led them out into the sitting room, and then over to the door. The chime rang again as they walked, making Wooley huff, amused. "The Cadet has no patience at all."

"He _is_ only five," Helix reminded him. "He hasn't picked up that skill yet."

Kenobi cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling a bit embarrassed by the commentary -- though not nearly as much as he had at the beginning of the visit, Waxer was pleased to note -- then opened the door and offered their visitors a polite bow. "Masters, Obi-Wan. You wished to see us?"

Obi-Wan all but bounced in place, excited. "Master Sy said I could come visit for a while before 'sabre practice, if you agree!"

Master Sifo-Dyas' expression went fondly tolerant and Waxer could see the amused smile in Dooku's eyes. "Obi-Wan?"

"Huh? Oh! Sorry, Master Sy," the youngling shuffled his feet. "Please can I stay with you until 'sabre lessons, _vod'e_?"

General Kenobi smiled down at the Cadet, then turned to the Commander. "Cody? Would it bother you to have him around while I make you practice shielding?"

Master Dooku looked intrigued. "You require all of them to practice shielding as well as meditation, Ben?"

The Commander looked up at the imposing _jetii_. "The General feels it's a useful skill to know, and we don't mind learning it. Come on in, Cadet."

Obi-Wan cheered, and grabbed the Commander's hand to bodily drag him toward the sofa.

Boil snickered. The General watched them go, then shook his head in a mix of bemusement and resignation. "I presume you will be staying with him, Masters?"

Master Sifo-Dyas nodded. "We don't wish to impose..." He let the sentence trail off.

Kenobi huffed and finished it for him. "But the youngling wouldn't let go of the idea."

Dooku chuckled. "No, he would not. And he knows quite well that his _vod'e_ would never turn him away, save under duress."

The General nodded. "Well, come then. Be comfortable. If you would like, we three can take tea while my _vod'e_ entertain the youngling."

Master Sifo-Dyas' expression went startled, briefly, as though he hadn't expected to be invited, and Waxer carefully ignored the flash of emotion. "Come on, Boil," he said instead, "that's our cue."

"Right," Crys agreed. "Let the masters have their tea. Playing with the Cadet is more fun."

He wasn't sure he liked the idea of leaving Kenobi alone with those two masters, but Waxer knew they'd be within earshot of one another the whole time. It would be fine.

When he and the rest of the _vod'e_ joined the Commander and the Cadet in their sitting room, piling onto the long sofa together, the little one cheered happily. " _Vod'e!_ " He greeted them, beaming happily.

"You have a good morning, Cadet?" Longshot asked him.

"It was okay. Lessons today were kind o' boring." Obi-Wan answered. "They were all things I saw in my dreams. Mostly talkin' to people."

"Oh?" Helix prompted him to continue. "But talking to people isn't boring."

The Cadet huffed and crossed his arms. "Learnin' how t' do it when I already _know_ is."

Waxer grinned. "Look at it this way," he said with a grin. "If you already know how, that makes the lesson really easy, and then you'll be done faster."

Obi-Wan blinked up at him, processing that, then grinned back. "I never thought about that! Hmmm. You should help me dream some more useful stuff!"

Wooley laughed. "We don't know how to do that, Cadet," he answered, "and we're not done with our current lesson, so we can't start a new one yet."

Obi-Wan's eyes went wide. "But you're so smart an' you know so much stuff," he said, "what're your lessons even _about_?"

"The General is trying to teach us how to shield," the Commander replied, "but it's not going too well. Most of us just can't seem to figure it out."

Waxer watched the Cadet puzzle over that for a moment, clearly surprised, then straighten up where he sat, half in the Commander's lap. "I know what to do," he declared.

"You do?" Waxer asked him, wondering exactly what conclusion the little one had reached.

Rather than answer verbally, the Cadet reached for the network, still a little bit clumsy and unpracticed, but already much better at it than he had been a bare week ago, and made all of them turn to stare at him.

"Cadet?" Helix asked, even as he reached back, wrapping the Cadet in the equivalent of a hug. "What are--"

His words cut off abruptly as the Cadet shoved a memory of his at them. It was more sensation and visualisation than words, but very effective in conveying what the Cadet wanted, nevertheless.

Waxer felt himself straighten and square his shoulders as the knowledge of how to shield and what it should look and feel like sank deep into the network.

Wooley shook his head as the sharing faded. "That... wow. Okay."

" _Vod'e_?" General Kenobi asked them, his voice containing something like resignation, "is everything alright?"

"We're fine, General," Boil told him. "We asked the Cadet a question and he surprised us with how he answered."

Master Dooku, standing behind the General, raised an eloquent eyebrow at them. "He does make a habit of coming up with unique solutions to problems he thinks he can solve."

Kenobi shrugged. "That sort of creativity should not be stifled," he said quietly.

"Go on back to your tea, Masters," Longshot suggested. "We'll yell if anything _actually_ catches fire."

With a shrug, Master Dooku accepted that. "Come, Ben, I expect your exquisitely competent _vod'e_ have matters under control."

With one last look around the room, the General caught their eyes one-by-one, and brushed up against them gently in the network, checking on them like the worried mother hen he could be, sometimes. When he found nothing untoward beyond the surprise that Boil had told him about, he nodded and turned back towards their dining area.

The Commander reached out and tipped the Cadet's chin up until he could look the little one in the eyes. "Obi-Wan," he said seriously, "thank you for trying to help, but you need to be very careful when you're sharing with us like that."

"Why?"

"Because when we share things that way, the more of us that know, the clearer it gets. So if it hurts one of us somehow, it will hurt _all_ of us." The Commander looked a little haunted, and Helix put a hand on his shoulder.

Helix picked up the thread of the conversation. "Let me give you an example, Cadet," he said. "Imagine I wanted to show Waxer how to stitch a cut. I could show him how I do it, just like you showed us how to shield. But what if stitching a cut reminded him of something horrible that happened to him? As soon as I share my knowledge with him, he'll get upset and I'll have hurt him without meaning to."

The Cadet looked up at Helix, startled, then at Waxer. "Really?"

Waxer chuckled and ruffled the little one's hair. "Helix is right, Cadet. We know how to share like that without hurting each other, because we all know what is probably going to hurt the others. We know each other well enough to know what kinds of things will remind our _vod'e_ of bad things that happened to them. And we also know how to _ask_ them, just in case."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense."

Boil nodded. "That's why we always make sure all our _vod'e_ know we're going to share something, and what it is, so that they can tell us if it will hurt them."

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, a bit subdued and edging towards guilty.

The Commander gave him a reassuring squeeze. "No, Cadet, you didn't. But next time please tell us before you do that."

"Okay, Cody. I'll try to remember," he agreed, then paused for a beat before he asked, "So? Did it work?"

Helix shrugged. "Hard to be sure. We're good at picking that sort of information up, Cadet, but it's usually coming from another _vod_ , which means he knows most of what we know and also how we think. This is... completely different."

"Then you gotta try it out," Obi-Wan suggested firmly. "Helix, you first."

Giving him an indulgent look, their chief medical officer gave in. "Well, alright. But if it doesn't work, don't worry."

Slowly and carefully, well aware of what it could do to the rest of the network, Helix tried to follow the Cadet's instructions. Wooley winced first, more sensitive to changes in their bonds than the rest of them were. "Well, I can tell you it's working," he muttered.

A few seconds later, Waxer could, too. Helix's presence in the network was gradually fading away.

The Commander swallowed hard, visibly forcing himself not to stand up and rush over to glue himself to Helix, and all of them could feel his mix of stress and reflexive fear in the network. That immediately got the Cadet's attention. "It's okay, Cody," he said, wrapping his arms around the Commander and flooding the network with warm reassurance.

Taking a shuddering breath, the Commander wrapped his arms around the Cadet in return, holding him close. "I know, but it feels like we lost Helix," he told the little one.

"But he's right there," Obi-Wan said, confused.

Waxer decided he needed to try to straighten this out before either of them got too twisted up. "Cadet," he said quietly, voice as level as he could make it when he was also kind of jittery, "until very recently, when we stopped feeling one of our _vod'e_ , it meant they were dead. Not shielded."

The youngling's eyes went wide, and he hugged the Commander tighter without saying another word.

Helix, now finished wrapping the shields around himself, held them for a few seconds before he let them go entirely. The way the Commander relaxed all at once when he could feel their _vod_ again spoke volumes about just how hard that had been on him.

"I don't think I quite did it the right way," Helix eventually said, breaking the silence that had briefly fallen over them.

The Cadet scowled. "But I showed you how!" He protested.

Helix shrugged. "And I tried to follow what you showed me, but it was hard to figure out some of the steps."

Crys caught their medic's attention. "So show us and the little one what you did," he suggested. "Maybe he can pinpoint the differences better than we can. One of us can try it next."

"That might even work," Helix agreed, then smirked. "You always did like iterative solutions."

Crys laughed, pleased and surprised. "Well, sure. They get better with each run."

After a couple of seconds, Helix reached for them and they reached back. The Commander did so with a mixture of reluctance and relief underlying the move, but he did it nonetheless. That ability to just power through the things that unnerved or upset him was one of the reasons their _vod_ had risen through the ranks as quickly as he had, Waxer knew. It took more than just tactical knowledge or ability to think strategically to become Marshal Commander.

Once they were stably connected with a feeling like linking hands characterising their tightly knit bonds, Helix gently pulled the Cadet in. "Here, Obi-Wan, this is how we share," he said, then gently pushed his memory of how he'd built the new shield to each of them. It felt to Waxer like setting up one of their basecamps. A small secured inner area where the _vod'e_ could set up their tents, surrounded by a reinforced perimeter well staffed with sentries on watch.

The little one's eyes went wide, and then he grinned. "That's a good way to share," he agreed, getting fond smiles out of all of them.

Longshot nodded, "We've practiced it a lot," he said. "Did you see how Helix did it?"

"Yeah!" Obi-Wan took the opportunity to prove it by mimicking what Helix had just done to share his impression on shielding again.

This time it came through clearer, and Waxer thought he'd more or less understood what the Cadet was trying to tell them. He got the impression of basically imagining building a wall around himself, while keeping control of the thickness and hardness of it.

That had some interesting implications, but before he could really think it through, Wooley was sharing his own idea of what it meant to shield. Waxer found himself comparing it to being at the center of a ring of protective _vod'e_ , of having a squad watching his back and ready to shoot if needed.

Both contrasted sharply with the wall that the Cadet had shown them how to build, and maybe that was their problem.

That was the moment the General gave in to his curiosity over what they were doing, and purposefully strode back into the sitting room. "Helix, what _exactly_ was it that you asked Obi-Wan?"

Boil laughed. Longshot smacked the back of his shoulder.

Helix gave their General a crooked half-smile as Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas followed Kenobi into the sitting room to watch them curiously. "The Cadet wanted to show us how to shield," he said.

Master Dooku caught the Cadet's attention. "Is that so. What did you show them, youngling?"

Obi-Wan beamed up at him. "Master Sy showed me how to build a wall, so I showed my _vod'e_ ," he explained. "Cody said they were having trouble figuring it out."

In the network, General Kenobi felt like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or pinch the bridge of his nose, caught between exasperation, fondness, and amusement. "And have they figured it out now?" He asked, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly upwards.

Master Dooku surveyed them, taking in their postures and expressions, no doubt. Waxer was kind of glad they hadn't been caught in the middle of another sharing.

The Cadet considered that. "I might have to show them one more time," he answered. "Helix got better at it, but I'm not sure about Waxer."

Master Sifo-Dyas looked like he was very proud of Obi-Wan. "You must have explained it very well, then."

"I tried, Master Sy," Obi-Wan replied, looking sad, "but I think my _vod'e_ don't _want_ to shield."

Waxer couldn't help the wince that went through him. How were they supposed to answer that without tipping their hands?

General Kenobi stepped in. "It's alright, youngling. I'll help them work through that. Your _vod'e_ didn't grow up in the Temple, where everyone learns how to shield when they're still very young, and where it's expected that you should know how. It's still strange and uncomfortable to them."

"And hard work," Wooley added dryly.

Master Sifo-Dyas nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Holding shields can be quite tiring," he agreed. "And just like a physical muscle, the mind must be trained to do so."

"Huh." Boil sounded thoughtful. "Guess we're in for a lot more practice, then."

"See, _vod_?" Crys said, grinning. "I told you it wasn't that you were bad at it."

"I'm still bad at it," Boil retorted, "but now that it's put in context, I feel less bad about being bad at it."

The General huffed at him, amused, and pointed out, "It's been all of about a week since I got you to start practicing."

Longshot raised an eyebrow at him. "General, we're troopers. We're good at picking new skills up fast. We all have practically photographic memories and it very rarely takes us more than a couple of days to pick up the basics of something. A week is already a very long training module by our standards."

The Cadet picked that moment to peel himself away from the Commander and latch onto Master Dooku instead, staring up at him hopefully.

"What is it, youngling?" The Master asked him, looking like he wasn't sure what to do about the little human burr now attached to his right leg.

"You an' Master Sy are both good at shielding. Almost as good as Ben. You could show my _vod'e_ how," he suggested.

Waxer froze, not at _all_ sure what to think about that idea, and felt the rest of his _vod'e_ do the same.

Master Dooku looked at them, his eyes lingering on the Commander a fraction of a second longer than the rest of them. The _jetii_ was a bit unsure about that plan, himself, if Waxer was any judge.

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled, and pointed out, "It's not our place to decide that, Obi-Wan. But we can offer our assistance to Ben, if he and his _vod'e_ wish it."

"I believe Master Sifo-Dyas is right, Obi-Wan," Master Dooku added dryly. "Moreover, teaching one youngling at a time is enough for me. I cannot imagine how Ben intends to teach _seven_."

General Kenobi laughed. "It's not nearly as difficult as you make it out to be, Master Dooku. And besides, all of my _vod'e_ are attentive students and do indeed usually pick things up as quickly as Longshot claimed. They are frankly a joy to work with, in such things, even if they do not have the theoretical background knowledge that another Jedi or initiate would."

The jolt of pleasure-pride that those words sent surging through the network made Waxer smile, and he could see the moment the wave of emotion hit the General, who looked like he hadn't expected that reaction from them.

Master Sifo-Dyas cleared his throat delicately. "What might perhaps be most effective," he said carefully, "would be some assistance in setting a sufficiently tranquil atmosphere. There is no Room of a Thousand Fountains, here, which would normally be used to aid initiates in learning shielding or meditation... but having a second master -- or even a third -- present to help keep things calm, often helps those who struggle to find the correct balance."

It was General Kenobi's turn to look briefly startled by what amounted to an outstretched hand. Much like Master Sifo-Dyas had, when he'd been offered tea.

"I think," the General said, "that's a wonderful idea. I did not wish to impose..."

Master Sifo-Dyas, obviously picking up on the parallels Kenobi was drawing to the moment the pair of Masters had entered the suite, smiled. "But the youngling is unlikely to let go of the idea," he agreed. "Perhaps something like a hum or a chant might also help your _vod'e_ along," he added. "Some initiates find it focuses the mind."

Wooley stared at him, dumbfounded, for a brief moment. "That sounds kind of crazy, but something tells me it might even work," he muttered.

The General looked around the room, meeting their eyes one by one, and waiting until he'd gotten nods from each of them before he spoke again. "We thank you for the offer, and gratefully accept," he said, and bowed.

Taking that as his cue to simply start doing whatever he'd proposed to, to set the right mood, Master Sifo-Dyas caught Dooku's eyes long enough to point to a pair of comfortable chairs placed catty-corner to one another facing the long sofa with his chin, "Let us sit," he suggested. "I doubt this will take long, but I have no particular wish to meditate standing up, right now."

Master Dooku huffed at him, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, but he said nothing to object. "As you wish," he replied, his tone just ever so slightly teasing.

The Cadet looked back and forth between the pair of Masters settling themselves in the chairs and closing their eyes, and his _vod'e_. Clearly torn as he tried to decide who he wanted to join.

While he dithered, the atmosphere in the room really _did_ seem to calm, until it felt like they were safer than they'd ever been. Relaxed and at ease. Whatever the two Masters were doing, Waxer wanted to _bottle it_.

They looked utterly in tune with one another, their expressions serene and content, and their entire bodies seeming to lean in toward one another for all that they were sitting perfectly straight in their seats.

 _So married,_ Waxer thought to himself. _They are_ so _married._

The General was staring at them, too, his expression just far enough off baseline to show his surprise.

After a moment he looked away and caught Waxer's eyes. A bit mulishly, he muttered, "Proves nothing," as if he'd heard the thoughts Waxer'd been having.

Before any of the others could ask what the _kark_ that meant, he shook his head and focused on them. "Are you ready, _vod'e_?"

"Go on, Cadet," Longshot said, "go sit with Master Sifo-Dyas. Maybe you can help them with whatever they're doing."

The little one brightened. "Sure!" He bounced over to Master Sifo-Dyas’ chair and then paused. “Hmm. No, Master Doo would be better.”

Waxer wasn’t the only one shaking his head in amusement.

“Whoever you like, Cadet, but take a seat,” Cody urged.

Careful not to disturb either of the two Masters more than absolutely necessary, the Cadet climbed up into the chair Master Dooku was occupying, making himself comfortable and apparently deciding he needed to join in the meditation so that he could help.

The atmosphere of calm intensified, and Wooley shook his head in amazement and amusement. "Alright, General," he said, "let's get this over with."

\--- POV: Sifo-Dyas ---

Sifo-Dyas felt when Obi-Wan joined them. The youngling's presence was very familiar to him now. It took no effort at all to welcome the little one into their meditation. Sifo-Dyas and Doo mentally reached out to him in perfect tandem; both of them were so comfortable with one another that it was as easy as breathing to slip into joint meditation, and just as smooth to add Obi-Wan to the mix.

Obi-Wan followed Sifo-Dyas and Doo's lead. The feeling of the Force around them intensified as he matched his breathing to theirs. Every ripple and eddy in the energy around them became more pronounced; Sifo-Dyas stretched out his mind and calmed those fluctuations. 

The calm lived inside of him. His emotions flowed like a river, through him and out into the Force. Doo's steady presence was next to him, a pillar of strength that he could always rely on. Obi-Wan's flame-bright spirit warmed them both.

Sifo-Dyas breathed in the Force and breathed out the calm. 

He projected that sense of peace, wrapping it around all of the _vod'e_ like a favorite blanket. This wasn't completely unusual; Sifo-Dyas had some experience with radiating calm to distressed individuals. It was a common Force technique. For the _vod'e_ , he attempted to amplify that, extending the effect to the whole group and increasing its effectiveness. He channeled serenity and allowed it to reach out to those around him.

It probably wouldn't have worked if the _vod'e_ weren't willing to accept his efforts. Peace was a gentle feeling, so easily disrupted by upset and anxiety and fear. Nor could he force it upon them. Not only would that be a violation of their will and privacy, but there would be a good chance that it wouldn't work. If he tried to coerce them into being calm it would be nothing more than a mind trick; their stubborn will would fight it and the point of the endeavour would be lost.

Instead, Sifo-Dyas simply set the stage for them to find their own peace. He turned the space around them into a quiet, tranquil place, and offered his own projected stillness like a gift that they could accept if they wanted.

Doo's mind was linked closely with his, more from habit than anything else. They knew the shadows of each other's hearts as well as they knew the Light. There were no surprises in their mental embrace. Only welcome. 

If that mental sharing brought up memories of other times that the two of them had been close, then that was something they both kept hidden away. They weren't alone, after all. 

Obi-Wan's mind joined with theirs with the trust and exuberance expected of a happy child. He drank in Sifo-Dyas' projected tranquility with enthusiasm and added his own strength to it. 

Something nudged at Sifo-Dyas' attention. Something from the Force, or perhaps some scrap of vision that either he or Obi-Wan had memory of. He couldn't be sure.

It didn't matter. The Force worked through him and Sifo-Dyas opened his mouth to let out a single note. He drew out the sound and let it resonate through him and in the room around them like a struck bell. 

There were other notes that went with this. He was aware of it without ever consciously knowing. The Force sang with him, delicate and almost mournful in his mind. There was a connection here that he hadn't quite made yet. But he knew that it wasn't up to him to complete that song. He had his part.

He kept his breathing even, and exhaled that pure tone on every out breath. After only two such notes, Doo joined him, adding depth and weight to the sound. 

That was close to what it should be, he could feel it. Just as he could feel the _vod'e_ perk up in interest. 

By the tenth breath, Obi-Wan joined in. His high treble only stayed on the same chord for a couple beats before rising to something higher. 

_There_.

That was the sound they needed. It resonated in the space around them as if they were sitting in a holy shrine. There were words that should have gone with the sounds. None of them knew them. Nor were they important, here and now. There was only the starting chord and its modulation, woven back and forth until it was nearly a physical sensation that thrummed in the bones and ghosted across the skin. Distantly, Sifo-Dyas could feel the others recognize the sounds. That didn't matter at all, except for the knowledge that this was _right_.

The three of them sang in perfect coordination, breathing as one. They filled the room with that rolling sound and timed it to the ebb and flow of the Force, the heartbeat of the universe. 

Time slipped away from them.

Slowly, the _vod'e_ eased into the safety that had encircled them, like a long cramped muscle finally relaxing. A tiny part of Sifo-Dyas' mind kept track of their progress, watched as they relaxed and found balance, and then carefully built up the walls around them. Up and down, building and deconstructing over and over as they learned how to move in harmony with themselves and the Force.

Sifo-Dyas, Doo, and Obi-Wan sang until they no longer felt the need to do so. As one, they breathed out one final chord. Obi-Wan's counternote had the weight of resolution in it. On the next exhale, all three of them remained silent.

They sat in the quiet of the moment and breathed. Sifo-Dyas slowly let the projection fade until the room around them was mundane space once again. 

Sifo-Dyas and Doo untangled Obi-Wan's mind from their own just as deftly as they had accepted him, allowing him to rouse himself at his own pace.

The two of them stayed together in meditation for a few moments longer. This closeness was precious, made more so by the knowledge that they didn't often get time together. 

So many paths were spread out before them, and in a terrifyingly large number of them Sifo-Dyas and Doo walked their paths alone. They both knew it was a possibility. A likely one, at that. Neither one of them were impetuous enough to cling to the other; the Force would take them where it took them. 

For right now, they savored their time together. Even this brief moment. 

When Sifo-Dyas finally opened his eyes again, it was to the sight of the _vod'e_ in various stages of recovery. 

Waxer and Boil had Cody wrapped up in a hug, and Obi-Wan was on his lap. Cody was still and relatively calm, but his head was resting on Obi-Wan's. Ben was sitting on the floor in front of them, so obviously guarding them that he could have put up a sign and it wouldn't have been any clearer. 

Crys and Longshot were leaning into each other, but looked alert and interested. Helix had a steadying arm over Wooley's shoulder. Helix had his typical stone cold medic face on, while Wooley looked a touch shaken. 

Sifo-Dyas and Doo shared a worried glance.

"Everything alright?" Sifo-Dyas asked.

"We're fine," Ben said.

Obi-Wan sniffed and hugged Cody tight. "I didn't get it b'fore, but I do now."

"What?" Helix asked, shooting him a concerned look.

"All the lights going out," Obi-Wan said sadly. "In my dreams. Sometimes there are these big fights and, 'nd--" He squeezed his plushy and burrowed further into Cody's arms. "Cody said that the shielding reminds you of _vod'e_ dying. I didn't know that's what it was in m' dreams. It just felt like a bunch of stars going out. But I get it now."

"Oh, Cadet," Waxer said softly. He and Boil tightened their hold on both him and Cody, and Cody's breath hitched. 

Ben grimaced like he'd just swallowed razors. He leaned back into Cody's legs. The rest of the _vod'e_ looked like they wanted to join, but they held back. 

Sifo-Dyas unfortunately _could_ imagine it. If Obi-Wan's dreams were Ben's memories, then he knew exactly what the youngling was talking about as well.

Jedi at war. It was never a pretty sight. All that pain and death in the Force was difficult for even a seasoned master to bear. 

Sifo-Dyas reached out again with his mind and wrapped Obi-Wan in comfort. After a moment, he extended the sensation to the rest of them. Only tentatively. He wasn't sure of his welcome and didn't want to offer insult. Ben's shielding around them was durasteel clad, so Sifo-Dyas didn't know either way.

"I know," Sifo-Dyas said quietly. "I've seen it, too."

He thought about all the platitudes that had been offered to him over the years. Every evasion and excuse. There was truth to some of those sayings. They offered precious little comfort, though.

His head ached from the remembered sensation of his own visions. How much worse must it be for Ben who'd lived those events?

"You can always come to me, little one," Sifo-Dyas said. "No matter the dream, no matter how scary, I will help you feel safe again."

"It hasn't happened yet, though, has it?" Obi-Wan turned wide, hopeful eyes to Sifo-Dyas. "We can fix it, right?"

"I don't know." It was an honest answer. It had to be honest; Obi-Wan deserved the truth. "Master Yoda would tell you that the future is always in motion. This is true. Sometimes the things we See never come to pass. Sometimes they do. Often, it is extremely difficult to tell what actions will tip the balance one way or another."

He gave Obi-Wan an encouraging smile, an expression small and tempered by the gravity of the conversation.

"I will always try to avert disaster, Obi-Wan," Sifo-Dyas promised him. "I will move stars and worlds to save the most people that I can. Even if I am the only one working to stop calamity, I'll still try. So no matter what happens in the future, you've got at least one Jedi Master in your corner." He let his smile turn sly and dangerous. "And I am craftier than people think."

"We'll help you all that we can, youngling," Doo added with a nod. "No matter what."

That visibly settled Obi-Wan; he nodded and sniffed again. His shoulders lost some of their tension.

"Thank you Master Sy, Master Doo."

Crys and Longshot exchanged more unreadable glances, speaking to each other without words. 

For a moment, Ben's expression was unreadable. Then he leaned back to pat Obi-Wan's leg.

"We're on it, too, Obi-Wan," he said with a reassuring smile. 

Obi-Wan beamed at him, though his eyes were still bright with unshed tears. 

Cody took a deep breath and lifted his head, putting on a mask of indifference. That meant he was pulling himself together. Maybe not enough to talk, but enough to at least look functional. Sifo-Dyas didn't bring attention to him by noticing it. Whatever traumas that were brought to mind weren't for him to prod at.

Sifo-Dyas stood up. "Come, Master Dooku. Let's get the younglings something to drink."

"An excellent idea, Master Sifo-Dyas." Doo gave him a polite nod of his head and they both made a perfectly reasonably paced retreat to the kitchen. 

They shared a look of understanding the moment they were alone. The young ones all needed a moment to gather themselves, and they would do it better without strangers in their midst. No doubt they were thirsty from the meditation, too. Sifo-Dyas knew that he was. 

He and Doo drank their fill before gathering up a tray of glasses for the rest of them.

By the time they returned, the _vod'e_ looked significantly more composed. They handed out the drinks and then returned to their seats. 

Before they'd even fully settled in their chairs, Crys piped up and asked, "How did you know what to sing? That's a _mando'a_ chant. Did the Cadet teach you?"

That was an expected question, given how the _vod'e_ felt like they recognized what was being sung. Sifo-Dyas gave him a small, rueful smile.

"I have never heard it before," he said. "The Force urged me to begin at that tone, so I did."

"But--" Crys stopped and looked at Doo.

Doo shook his head. His eyes crinkled in dry amusement. "I have never heard it either. I felt where Master Sifo-Dyas needed me to join in. I simply followed where he led."

"I've heard it before," Obi-Wan said, nodded to Crys. "In m' dreams. But I don't know the words. As soon as I figured out what Master Sy was doing, I jumped in."

That just made Crys look even more confused, except now with a dose of outrage to go with it.

"That sounds right," Ben said with a nod of his own.

"What." Helix just looked at him.

Wooley inhaled sharply and scowled. "That. Argh. Why would it--"

Sifo-Dyas raised an eyebrow and waited him out. 

"The Force, it just... Tells you what to do?" Wooley asked sourly. There was something like pain in his expression. Or perhaps just bitterness.

"No," Sifo-Dyas said, shaking his head. This, too, was an expected question. All initiates went through some variation of these questions. "The Force guides us. I knew that I wanted to help you with your meditations. The Force just gave me a hint at how to do that in the best possible way. It is the work of a lifetime to find the stillness within yourself to hear that guiding power. I trust in the Force to show me what I need to know to do the best that I can."

Wooley's face just twisted unhappily.

Before he could complain, Sifo-Dyas raised a hand to him to quiet him.

"Tell me, Wooley, how do you think the Force works for those who have Fallen to the Dark side?"

Wooley just stared at him, baffled. The implied _how the kriff should I know_ was loud and clear.

Sifo-Dyas tried not to look as amused as he was. Decades of perfecting his ability to school his expression came in handy. 

"If the Force _makes_ us do things, then why would the Force lead Light side users to do one thing, and Dark side users to do another?" he asked. "Why would the Force tell me what to do to save myself and others from a Dark side user, while at the same time tell that Dark side user what _they_ need to know to reach their own ends? Seems like a conflict of interests."

That got Wooley thinking. He still looked confused, but most of the upset had flown away.

He frowned at Sifo-Dyas and nibbled on his lower lip. 

"Because the Dark side and the Light side of the Force are two different... _things_ , working against each other?" he ventured. 

Sifo-Dyas tilted his head in acknowledgement. "A possible explanation. There are some who would argue for that. But those of us gifted with the Unifying Force and the Cosmic Force know that the Light side and the Dark side are not separate from one another. They are energies that flow back and forth, in and out of one another, transmuted through the Living Force and hopefully held in balance. That balance is the Cosmic Force."

"Oh _kriff_ ," Boil muttered. "Philosophy." He said that like it was a curse word.

"Language around the Cadet," Waxer hissed at him. Obi-Wan stifled a giggle. 

Sifo-Dyas gave Boil a disapproving look, but otherwise ignored them.

"If the Light side and the Dark side of the Force are parts of the same whole," Sifo-Dyas continued, "and not adversaries working against each other, what does that mean for Force users?"

He waited for Wooley to puzzle it out for himself. 

"Is he really supposed to answer this?" Helix asked dubiously.

Sifo-Dyas shrugged. "Any of you can. The question he posed, in essence, is _am I being controlled_? To properly address that, we have to ask, 'what is it that might be controlling me?' In the end, I cannot answer this for you. I can only guide you, and relay the path that I, and others, have followed. So much of the Force relies on belief. If you _believe_ that you are a slave to the Force, then you will be. If you _believe_ that you can change the galaxy, then you can."

He turned his attention to Wooley. 

"Trust your feelings, Wooley," he urged him. "Your instincts will guide you towards the path that is best _for you_. Would you ignore a gut instinct that tells you that an ambush is on the way? A seasoned warrior like yourself knows the value of such a hunch. _And_ you know the value of common sense. _You_ choose what to do with what you feel and experience, and you temper it with wisdom and skill, so you know when to act and how. The Force cannot and will not swoop in and fix everything for us. We must do it ourselves."

Sifo-Dyas felt the barest hint of the Force twisting around him and a tiny flash of a vision seared across his mind. 

Wooley, older and stronger. Built like a tank and in armor he'd created himself, with a lightsabre at his belt. He stood at a smith's forge and the Force moved with him as he swung his hammer. 

Sifo-Dyas blinked the vision away. 

He'd sensed nothing extraordinary from Wooley; Ben's shields were too good. 

But it was _Wooley_ seeking answers to the questions his soul had. It was _Wooley_ who wondered about how the Force flowed through him.

He wouldn't be a Jedi, not as Sifo-Dyas knew the term, but he would be _something_.

While Sifo-Dyas was sorting through the image the Force had flung at him, Wooley sat in quiet contemplation. 

"Think on it," Sifo-Dyas said, drawing himself back to the present. "Better yet, spend time meditating on it. _Feel_ the answer. Trust yourself. You're not without resources if you get stuck. Ben, I am sure, will help you, and I am always just a comm away."

"How is it that I asked you a question and just ended up with more questions?" Wooley bitched quietly. 

"The hazards of speaking to a Jedi Master," Ben said with evident amusement. 

Sifo-Dyas tipped his head at him and grinned. He wondered if Ben realized that he'd taken on seven padawans, or if he was still under the delusion that he was simply giving his _vod'e_ a little extra lessoning.

"Alright, sure. Force nonsense, whatever," Helix said. He rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers as if he was casting a spell. "But what did you mean that we had to train up our brains to deal with the Force? Is there a Force related muscle in the head somewhere? Because if so, I completely missed that in all of my medical training."

Ben and Doo both snorted in amusement.

Poor Helix looked so annoyed. A very practical man, that one. Sifo-Dyas held back his own mirth in favor of giving Helix an answer that might not make him want to stab something.

"I will forego the regular speech about midichlorians; you can look up information on them yourself, if you so desire," he said dryly. "They only pertain to determining who has a sensitivity to the Force, anyways, and not how to use it. Rather, think of your own studies. Training in use of the Force is the same as training your mind and your will for anything else. Like learning memorization. Most beings can't just look at a piece of information and instantly remember it all; they have to train and practice. From a physiological perspective, their brain must build new neural pathways and strengthen the appropriate connections."

That mollified Helix a bit and his irritated scowl turned into something more contemplative. 

"Meditation and all that works the same way?" Helix asked.

Sifo-Dyas nodded. "The more you do it, the easier it becomes." He tilted his head in a half-shrug. "Like with anything, some people are naturally better at it than others, and certain types of activities for one person would be as easy as breathing while for another they could be nearly impossible. This is why the Order has invested in many different ways to train the mind. There are numerous ways to meditate. I know of revered masters who can't sit still to save their lives, so instead they practice moving meditation. They repeat a slow, steady movement and that helps clear their minds. Others cannot bear silence, thus we have songs or chants. Bells are common for that use, too. Jedi choirs are quite impressive to listen to, though few hear them outside the Temple."

Said choirs and chants were also used as a method of expressing the history of the Order and teaching Force techniques, but that wasn’t terribly relevant for the _vod’e_. Not at the moment anyways. Perhaps later, as Obi-Wan grew into his training. Judging by the current state of affairs, it was likely that the _vod'e_ would simply mirror his progress, like flocking birds.

"So it's innate ability mixed with practice," Helix surmised. 

Sifo-Dyas nodded.

"Do you think we could try out some of the moving meditations?" Crys asked Ben a bit hesitantly. "Not right now, I mean. But later?"

Ben blinked in surprise, and then nodded. "Of course, _vod_. Tomorrow I'll show you a few of the basic types."

"Maybe we could modify one of our drills," Cody said, finally weighing in to the conversation.

Excellent. His mind was working on other problems which meant that he had recovered from his earlier upset. Or at least that he was sufficiently distracted. That was a relief.

"You know," Sifo-Dyas said, "Master Dooku is, or was, good friends with Master Jocasta Nu." He raised an eyebrow to Doo.

Doo gave him a dry look back, already seeing where he was headed with this. "We still keep in touch," he admitted, "though we are not as close as we once were. While we were not in the same clan as younglings, we had many classes together. Sadly, time and duty have done their work well, and I am so rarely at the Temple."

Yes. More's the pity. 

Sifo-Dyas did not let the melancholy eat at him. He would value what time he had with his dear one and be grateful for it.

He turned his attention to the younglings. "Master Nu is head of the archives. I am sure that if you were interested, Master Dooku could request copies of texts detailing different types of moving meditation. I have made only a rudimentary study of it myself."

Ben boggled a bit. "You know Master Nu well enough to get copies of texts?"

"Common ones, perhaps," Doo said with amusement. "Jocasta is very protective."

That made Ben grimace and stare off into nothing. 

Doo barked out a laugh. "Clearly, you've had the pleasure. I could likely convince her to help, if you can tell me what specifically you require."

"That would be very helpful, Master Dooku. Thank you," Ben said with a shallow bow of his head.

"Not at all, youngling." Doo waved his hand dismissively. "Though I will likely pick your brain on the subjects afterwards. I find myself curious about how you would interpret the classic training texts."

"We'll leave that to you two, then," Cody said, dry as a desert. 

"Just give us the highlights, General," Wooley added imploringly. 

Doo gave Ben a thoughtful look. Sifo-Dyas could feel him debating about asking something. Since he even paused to consider it, it must be about Ben's past.

Ben simply raised an eyebrow at him. 

"You were trained in the Temple. You are of Master Yoda's lineage," Doo stated. 

"I am," Ben said serenely. The _vod'e_ stilled and eyed them both carefully.

"But I was not your master," Doo said. "If I had been, then your _vod'e_ would likely be less inclined to be civil to me."

Boil snorted derisively. Even with Ben heavily shielding his _vod'e_ , Sifo-Dyas could see that they all had _thoughts_ about that. 

"You were not," Ben said.

"Master Yoda has trained many padawans, but relatively few in recent years. He doesn’t tend to meddle as much with the extended lineage. You didn't live with him, so you were not his padawan. You're skilled enough to be Master Drallig's, but I see none of his hallmarks on you, and he has yet to show interest in taking a padawan. Which leaves one of my line. Rael is a possibility, but unlikely. He has been eyeing a different Initiate, one whom I think he will choose soon if he hasn’t already. The timing is also off for Feemor. He is likely to choose a padawan within the next couple of years, probably before you would have been eligible. Xanatos would be too inexperienced a knight."

His expression turned pained.

"Which leaves Qui-Gon," he said softly.

Ben did not visibly react to the statement, but every single one of the _vod'e_ glowered. 

Sifo-Dyas held back a wince. He'd helped Doo train Qui-Gon, though not as much as both he and Doo had wanted. Sifo-Dyas had been learning the ropes as a new High Councilor, and Doo had often been sent off-world on diplomatic missions. Qui-Gon had expressed his interest in peacekeeping early on, and Doo had done everything he could to give the young man the experience he would need to pursue that path. 

Qui-Gon and Doo had a... somewhat contentious relationship. Doo was too stiff and formal for Qui-Gon's relaxed tastes, and Qui-gon too in tune with the Living Force to be a comfortable match for Doo. They clashed bitterly at times. Sifo-Dyas had been relieved to see that some of the tension between the pair had disappeared after Qui-Gon was knighted. Not living together certainly had helped. 

Knowing that it was _Qui-Gon_ who was responsible for the unfortunate things that Ben had very obliquely brought up about his past was heartbreaking. Qui-Gon was a good man, and a fine Jedi. What would happen to make him become so callous towards his own padawan?

Doo's face went lined with sorrow. A tiny wisp of his distress leaked into the Force. Just a hint of it, and then his shields redoubled. 

He took a moment to bow his head towards Ben. Sifo-Dyas knew it was at least in part to help mask his expression until it was fully under his control. He wanted to reach out, but didn't dare. Not when they were watched like this. The best he could do was shove his Force presence up against Doo's shields and let him know that he was there. 

When Doo raised his head, he was composed once again, though his expression was solemn. "You are an exemplary Jedi, Master Kenobi. I am deeply honored that you are part of my lineage. Whatever your relationship to my old padawan is, know that I will guide and aid you as a grandmaster should."

Ben stared at him for a moment and blinked. 

Doo stood up. "Now. I think that it is long since past time to begin 'sabre training. I know that I should like to practice stabbing a few things, myself. Obi-Wan?"

He held out a hand to the youngling. Obi-Wan bounded up, though he gave Ben a backward, worried glance. 

"Go on, Cadet," Cody said, shooing him off. "We might join you later."

Sifo-Dyas followed along as the three of them bowed goodbye and made their way to the training yard. Once the little one was tired out, perhaps he and Doo would be able to get some sparring in. Sifo-Dyas could tell that Doo needed the outlet.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is curious, the Mandalorian chant that is referenced in this chapter is [Aay’han](https://youtu.be/l7FdR3rzmjY). 
> 
> The title of the song, _Aay’han_ , means, “bittersweet perfect moment of mourning and joy - *remembering and celebrating*.”
> 
> _Motir... Ca'tra nau tracinya.... Gra'tua cuun... Cuun hett su... Tracinya... Cuun hett su... Motir... Ca'tra nau tracinya... Gra'tua cuun... Cuun hett su... Dralshy'a... Cuun hett su…_
> 
> Translated, and with out the repeats of phrases, it means:
> 
> _Those who stand before us light the night sky in flame._  
>  _Our vengeance burns brighter still._
> 
> This is part of a war chant called _Gra’tua Cuun_ , slowed down and used as a song of mourning instead. It seemed to fit, given that the _vod’e_ are having a difficult time separating the sensation of shielding their minds with the feeling of their _vod’e_ dying. 
> 
> So, if you decide to click the link and have a listen, picture Sy and Yan singing the chant part, where there would be words, with Obi-Wan following along adding in the change in chord for them.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a small heads up, keep on the lookout for another short side fic in the series coming out sometime this weekend, featuring Feemor and the Jedi Temple ;)

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

"It was _Qui-Gon_?" Yan hissed. 

He still didn't want to admit the possibility that it was true.

Obi-Wan had long since gone to bed and was safely asleep. Sy sat on Yan's bed while Yan paced back and forth across his bedroom. 

"Ben was careful not to confirm it," Sy said. "He just implied." 

Comfort and support radiated out from him in the Force. It wasn't stifling; Sy knew him too well to attempt that. He was just there, ready to listen or talk or help however he could. Yan was unbearably grateful. 

"The facts add up, though, don't they." Yan grimaced. "The way the _vod'e_ looked like they were constantly on the verge of stabbing him at any given moment. Sy, you should have felt it. They _buzzed_ in the Force. Like angry bees. The way Ben was a touch off balance around him. The things that Qui-Gon said to Ben before he left Mandalore. Something about an old hurt."

"A broken training bond, you think?" Sy asked. 

It was as good a guess as any. Simply dissolving a training bond wouldn't leave a mental wound or scar like Qui-Gon had described. Not unless it was violently and immediately cut off. 

Force, did Qui-Gon _Fall_? No, that couldn’t be it. Not from what Ben had said about his master’s death.

"Ben told us that his master had been murdered in front of him." Yan came to an abrupt stop as he thought it over.

"That would do it," Sy said quietly. 

Yan shook his head restlessly and went back to pacing.

The little that Ben had shared and implied about his padawanship was far beyond what should have been acceptable, even taking into account the fact that being a Jedi was a very dangerous calling, and that all padawanships had their share of misfortune. 

Not like this, though. Not like the horrors that Ben had, albeit briefly, described. 

"What happened? How could he, and where the sith-hells was _I_? If Qui-Gon was having problems, why the kriff didn't he ask for help? Why didn't I notice anything?"

Granted, he and Qui-Gon had their differences, but Yan didn't think that his old padawan would distance himself so thoroughly than Yan wouldn't be able to see that help was needed.

The more he thought about it, though, the more he could see it. He and Qui-Gon didn't talk much now, and Yan had never sugar coated his mild dislike of Xanatos. He spent most of his time away from the Temple. If that divide were to grow...

"Kriff, I don't know whether to drag Qui-Gon back here and force everyone to work out their problems, or simply make sure that he and Obi-Wan never meet," Yan muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

"When has force ever worked with Qui-Gon?" Sy asked reasonably. 

"Point."

All of the frantic frustration that had been building in Yan left with a rush. His shoulders slumped and he dragged himself over to sit next to Sy on the bed. Sy wrapped an arm around his shoulder and drew him in until they were cuddled close together.

"I failed him," Yan said. "If this is what he learned from me, then I failed him."

"Qui-Gon is a grown man and a master in his own right. He's already trained one padawan to knighthood. Two, when Xanatos passes his trials. Whatever happened with Ben is none of your doing."

"Perhaps that's the issue," Yan grumbled. 

Sy leaned his head against Yan's. He was warm and solid at Yan's side, and the scent of his skin and his favorite tea lingered in the air. Yan breathed it in and let it bring him comfort. 

"Whatever happened in Ben's past isn't something we can change," Sy said quietly. "We can only focus on our present."

"I know." Yan didn't like it. But he knew. 

"For now, you and I can keep an eye on Obi-Wan."

Yan gave Sy a dry side-eyed glance. "Having thoughts about acquiring a padawan, my dear High Councilor?"

Sy lightly poked him in the side in retaliation. "I don't know. I don't know if I can, or if it would be wise."

Yan nodded. There were a lot of factors in that decision. He had been honestly considering it himself. Now that he knew about Qui-Gon, he was rethinking the idea all over again.

"We'll make sure he goes to a kind master. Whoever that is," Yan promised. He could do that for Ben, at least. 

The two of them sat in silence for a while, savoring each other's company.

"You know, Ben must have loved Qui-Gon very much to be so reluctant to say any bad word about him, even in the face of obvious mistreatment," Sy said. 

"I'm not sure if that makes the situation better or worse."

"Perhaps it just means that the Qui-Gon you know now does not become totally lost. A person is not defined only by their mistakes, and Ben is a fine Jedi and a good man. He was well trained."

That was a heartening thought. Yan turned his head to leave a gentle kiss on Sy's lips.

"Thank you," he said softly. Sy's brown eyes were warm and welcoming. Their minds brushed against each other, relaying gratitude and comfort.

"I think I should take more care with my former padawan," Yan said. "And perhaps his padawans as well. It's not too late to reach out."

Sy's smile was radiant. "No, it's not."

\--

\--- POV: Young Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

It didn't take Master Sy more than a few days to be fully recovered from his vision and Obi-Wan couldn't have been happier for it. Barring that incident, their time on Mandalore was the most fun he'd had in ages. Maybe _ever_. 

In the mornings he got lessons from Master Sy, and sometimes Master Doo, on things like letters and numbers and languages. They practiced meditation and drew pictures. The _vod'e_ and Ben joined them for midmeal, and then the afternoon was spent doing an activity of some kind. Sometimes they played games and other times they did drills. Obi-Wan was always worn out by dinner time.

It was _so_ much fun, and so very exciting to spend so much time with everyone. His _vod'e_ were amazing and Ben was so smart and witty, and then there were all the one-on-one lessons with Master Sy and Master Doo.

Obi-Wan didn't want to admit that he was getting more and more tired. There was too much to do, and he knew that his time here was limited. He wasn't exactly sure _how_ limited. The days stretched on without interruption, and the concept of weeks and months was still somewhat nebulous for him. He had to be sure to get in all the play he could while he still had the chance.

The dreams kept coming, but they were easier to handle with the _vod'e_ there in his mind supporting him. He wasn't sure if they realized what they were doing. Talking to Ben was _really_ helpful. Just being able to verify what was real for at least one of them compared to what was something that hadn't happened to either of them yet was a relief. Being able to ask about the confusing details was just as useful. He didn't have to worry quite so much about it all, because Ben already knew. 

If the dreams were bad, Master Sy took him to his _vod'e_ and he got to sleep with them. Maybe when he was older Master Sy would let him do that every night. 

Sometimes the dreams were just unsettling. 

Several days after Master Sy’s vision, Obi-Wan woke up in the morning with the distinct feeling that he'd been having some of those unsettling dreams all night. They weren't enough to do more than leave him off balance. Not even enough to wake him in the night. 

It didn't feel like he'd slept at all. His eyes were gritty and his limbs felt heavy. 

Master Sy had to wake him up for firstmeal, which was unusual. 

Obi-Wan didn't want to get up. He almost argued, but then Master Sy reminded him that his _vod'e_ were waiting. That was enough to make him drag himself out of bed. Master Sy helped him with his tunics. They felt extra thick and fiddly. 

Firstmeal went by in a blink of an eye. Obi-Wan focused on eating what was in front of him. The fruit juice was good and sugary. It perked him up a little. It was _green_ too, which was crazy. 

"Cadet?"

"Mmhph?" Obi-Wan looked up, his mouth still stuffed with toast. From the look on Cody's face, he'd been trying to get Obi-Wan's attention for a minute already.

"You feeling alright?" 

The _vod'e_ felt concerned. Helix reached across Crys to put a hand on Obi-Wan's forehead. Obi-Wan ducked out of pure instinct. 

"Nmhph!" Obi-Wan scowled at him and chewed on his toast as he hunched down to avoid capture. 

"He's just checking your temperature, Obi-Wan," Master Sy said with dry amusement. "Let him feel your forehead."

Obi-Wan grumbled around his mouthful of bread and let Helix grope his face. 

"He feels fine," Helix said. Then he turned a caustic look on Ben, who was smirking around his tea cup. " _You_ have no room to find this funny."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ben said innocently. Obi-Wan could tell he was laughing on the inside. Given Helix's glare, he probably could too.

"I think a rest day today might be in order. I brought some children's holodramas," Master Sy said before Ben and the _vod'e_ could devolve into poking fun at each other.

Obi-Wan let out a grateful breath and nodded quickly. "Yes, please, Master Sy. I'm tired." He wilted a little in place.

Master Doo, Ben, Cody, Crys, and Wooley left to go do their morning chores, and the rest of them settled into the large couch in the _vod'e_ 's sitting room. Obi-Wan was squished comfortably up against Master Sy's side with Helix on the other. 

Whatever Master Sy had picked to watch completely sailed right over Obi-Wan's head. The moment they got all settled together, he found himself drifting back to sleep. 

His dreams were more of those uneasy, restless visions. Some were images of dreadful waiting in rough camps on distant worlds. Some were filled with the smell of bacta and blood and ozone, and the thrumming sounds of hundreds of men shifting quietly in a vast sea of tents. There was the feel of dead weight in Obi-Wan's arms with salty tears running down his cheeks. 

Each time one of the dreams started to take hold, Obi-Wan felt a swell of comfort and closeness rise up and pull him back towards less troubled sleep. His _vod'e_ were there, Master Sy was there, standing sentinel around his mind. 

He woke up to the sound of the door opening. 

Ben and Cody were back, and they had boxes of food with them.

"Why do you have more food?" Obi-Wan asked groggily. He rubbed his eyes. Somehow, he'd gotten covered up in a thick blanket. He was half laying on Master Sy's chest, and one leg was draped over Helix's lap. Blocky was there too, though Obi-Wan was sure he'd left the little plushy on his bed that morning.

"Because it's time for midmeal," Ben said with an easy smile. He looked relaxed, but Obi-Wan could barely feel him in the Force. Cody had that little wrinkle in between his eyebrows that said he was worried, a sentiment that the rest of the _vod'e_ echoed in the network. 

"Oh." Obi-Wan thought about that for a minute. "Did I sleep all morning?"

"You did, little one," Master Sy said. He ran a hand through Obi-Wan's hair and that was very nice. 

The scent of food made him perk up. 

"Feeling better, Cadet?" Helix asked.

Obi-Wan wasn't quite sure how to answer that. He did feel a little less tired, and he definitely was ready to get up and sit at the table and talk to everyone. 

But his dreams left a weird, aching feeling in his chest, and a tight knot ran up his spine. He couldn't tell if he was still worn out from doing so many new things or if his head was thrown off from the visions. 

Visions really were exhausting. Obi-Wan knew why Master Sy stayed in bed all day after his vision. 

He got so distracted trying to puzzle it all out that he completely forgot to answer Helix, and instead wandered over to take a look at what Ben and Cody brought for midmeal. 

Everyone exchanged meaningful looks, but didn't pester him further.

"Are Wooley and Crys coming?" Obi-Wan asked before Helix could prod him again.

"Yes, Cadet. They'll be here soon along with Master Dooku. _Buir_ and Jango are out of the palace for the day, so we won't see them until dinner," Cody said, taking his seat at the table. 

"Master Sifo-Dyas--" Helix muttered to the master.

"It's alright, Helix," Master Sy said quietly back to him. "I can't sense anything wrong other than weariness. We'll just take it easy for today."

"Dreams keeping you up, Cadet?" Waxer said. He and Boil took the chairs on either side of him, and sat close enough to rub elbows. It was kind of fun.

"A little," Obi-Wan admitted. He rubbed his forehead. "It's hard."

There wasn't anything else he could say about that, so he just hugged Blocky. Waxer and Boil both leaned in to squeeze him between them, which was both nice and fun. It left Obi-Wan giggling as he tried and failed to wiggle out of their hold.

"Noo, it's time to eat!" he said, breathlessly laughing. 

"But I want to huuuug you!" Waxer crowed back, squeezing him again.

That just made Obi-Wan giggle harder.

They were still playfully half-wrestling around when Wooley and Crys showed up. Master Doo joined them a few minutes later.

Midmeal continued on a little easier after that. The giggling clearly was good for everyone, and Obi-Wan quickly got enthralled in the little sandwiches that the kitchen staff had made for them. They were in fun shapes. There were little squares and triangles and octagons and rhombuses. The group chatted quietly as Obi-Wan entertained himself with stacking the little sandwiches in between bites. 

The food revived him. A little. Obi-Wan still didn't feel like going out to the training yard.

So as the leftovers were getting packed away, Obi-Wan asked, "Master Sy. Can we stay inside this afternoon? Please?"

He'd almost forgotten the 'please'. 

The _vod'e_ still had that mildly worried feel, except for Helix, who was giving Ben a look that Ben was studiously ignoring. 

"That sounds like a fine idea, Obi-Wan," Master Sy said with a warm smile.

Master Doo stood up from the table and waved for them all to join him in the sitting room. "I suspected that we might have an afternoon in, so I thought today might be an excellent time to talk about that kyber crystal you claimed."

That brought up an instant well of interest and excitement in Obi-Wan.

"Really?" he asked, bouncing up from his chair to follow.

Master Doo sat with his legs crossed on the rug in the middle of the room. He set his lightsabres down in front of him, along with a couple of cloth bundles. Obi-Wan immediately moved to sit across from him. Slowly but surely, everyone else followed suit, though it took Wooley and Ben a minute or two longer than the rest. 

Per their norm, everyone waited quietly as the group assembled. It was just like class at the Temple and Obi-Wan was nearly vibrating in place. They were going to look at kyber crystals!

"Master Dooku," Ben said, holding out an orange crystal. "This one... found its way to our bedroom the evening after Obi-Wan and I chose our crystals."

Master Doo raised an eyebrow at him and then peered at the crystal.

"This is one from my collection," he said.

"It is." Ben nodded. "I would have returned it sooner, but," he looked a little embarrassed, "I'd forgotten until just now. I am very sorry."

Master Doo shook his head once, short and dismissive, disregarding the need for apology. He looked at the crystal for a moment longer. A pensive frown was on his face. His eyes turned their attention to Ben's face.

"This was found in your room?" he asked.

"On a pillow on our bed," Ben said.

"But not your pillow." Master Doo's eyes narrowed. "Otherwise you would have said as much."

Ben didn't change his expression one bit. 

There was something going on here that Obi-Wan didn't quite understand. Some undercurrent of emotion in the network. It wasn't quite worry. Maybe more like a general wariness. 

Master Doo reached out a hand towards the crystal, and then curled Ben's fingers back around it and pushed it towards him.

"Keep it," Master Doo said firmly. "I store all of my kyber in very secure lock boxes, for they are very valuable. If this one found its way to _you_ ," he paused to raise his eyebrow a trifle, "then it wasn't by chance. Either you needed it enough to steal it, which seems both wildly unlikely and a bit out of character, or the Force willed it to you. Whichever the case may be, this stone clearly will do more good in your hands than in my lock box."

Ben blinked at him in surprise and the network rippled with shock. 

"That's a very expensive stone, Master Dooku," Cody said. 

Obi-Wan got the distinct impression that Cody was speaking up because he was the commander. He was talking so that one of his other _vod'e_ didn't need to. Why that was, Obi-Wan had no idea.

"It is. Thus I will trust that you will care for it as it deserves to be cared for," Master Doo said solemnly. His words carried the implicit command that the gift not be wasted. 

Ben bowed deeply. "Thank you, Master Dooku."

He wrapped the crystal in a small cloth and put it into his belt pouch. 

Master Doo's face softened and his lips pulled into a very small smile. "You're welcome, Master Kenobi."

"How do you care for a crystal?" Obi-Wan had to ask. "It's a rock."

Master Doo's smile broadened and he waved his hand over his ‘sabres and the bundles in front of him on the floor. "Ahhh, but kyber is not _just_ a rock, youngling. Kyber crystals are infused with the Force. They are almost alive, and it is said that they share a soul with the wielder who claims the crystal. They are very special."

Obi-Wan's mouth fell open into a soft 'o' as he listened. 

Master Sy sat down next to Master Doo, close enough that their knees almost brushed. 

"You are too young to build your own lightsabre," Master Sy said. "But in two to three years, you will be ready. Traditionally, younglings go to Ilum for their first crystal. To be honest, you likely will still go."

"But I already have a crystal," Obi-Wan said with a confused frown. 

"Many ‘sabres use two or more crystals. The more crystals, the more powerful the ‘sabre," Master Doo said. "Mine, for example."

With a wave of his hand, one of his ‘sabres levitated up off the ground. Several pieces floated off of it and hung, suspended in the air, allowing Obi-Wan a clear view of the two crystals inside.

"Wow," Obi-Wan breathed out.

He wasn't the only one leaning in. All of the _vod'e_ watched with interest. Wooley was pressed up against Obi-Wan's side, getting as close a look as he could. Ben sat a few feet away. There was still interest radiating from him in the Force, but there was also a strong sense of satisfied pleasure. He was pleased to see them so excited, and maybe pleased to see them learning this particular lesson, too. There was a distinct note of pride radiating from him in the network. 

Master Doo rotated his hand and his floating ‘sabre and its pieces rotated with it. "Not all crystals are created equal. Lesser crystals, flawed stones with no clear attachment to anyone, are used in training ‘sabres. Good quality stones, without flaw and with a strong Force presence, are used for a knight's ‘sabre. These stones will bond with their user, and lend added focus or additional abilities to the one who wields it. There are greater stones as well. Ones so powerful that they very nearly have a mind of their own."

He raised an amused eyebrow at Ben. "Much like the stones that you and Ben have chosen, and the one that chose him."

"An adegan crystal, Master Dooku?" Ben asked.

"That one is, yes." Seeing the confused expressions of Obi-Wan and the _vod'e_ , Master Doo continued. "Adegan kyber crystals are some of the most powerful. They are somewhat rare, and always choose their own wielder. They will not function properly for someone who is not bonded with them. The 'sabre will be clumsy, and the user's focus, off."

With a rolling wave of his fingers, Master Doo's lightsabre pulled itself back together and gently floated back down to the ground. 

Then he opened the two cloth bundles in front of him. 

Obi-Wan pointed at the first one. "That's my crystal!" he said excitedly. 

He recognized the vibrant green glow of it on sight. More than that, he felt the stone recognize him in return. It pulsed in his mind's eye, warm and welcoming.

"Oh," Obi-Wan said softly. He reached out and ran a finger down the crystal's side. "It knows me."

Master Doo gave him a pleased smile. "It does. While we are here on Mandalore, I will keep it safe for you. I’ll send it along with Master Sifo-Dyas when you two leave, so that you can keep it in your room at the Temple. Crèche Master Tinna will help the two of you find an appropriate place to store it until you are ready to properly bond with it. Once you are old enough for your own 'sabre, there will be classes on how to build one. When your skill is sufficient, you will meditate with your crystal, or crystals, and it will guide you on how to build your 'sabre."

"What do you mean? Why take classes on how to build it if the crystal is just going to tell him?" Helix asked. 

Obi-Wan bounced in place. "I know, I know," he said excitedly.

"Go ahead, Obi-Wan." Master Doo nodded at him in encouragement. 

"It's because it's way, way easier t' build if you already know what you need to do," Obi-Wan explained, turning towards Helix. "If you needed to use a spaceship, but you didn't know how, you _could_ use the Force. But you'd need to be _so_ good about listening, and there would be a lot of ways to mess it up. But if you already know how to fly a spaceship, then all the Force would have to do is kinda nudge you to the right moves to tell you the best way to get to where you're going. You still have t' be able to listen, but it's way easier."

"Exactly," Master Doo said approvingly. His eyes crinkled in a way that said he was giving Obi-Wan one of his secret smiles, where he smiled on the inside. 

"That actually makes sense," Wooley muttered. 

"What's special about that one?" Crys asked, pointing to the second crystal that Master Doo had brought.

It was a deep, dark blue color, and it glowed against the dark cloth that it rested on. Power radiated off all kyber crystals, but there was something different about this one. Something wild.

Master Doo looked at the stone fondly. "This one is very special. Master Sifo-Dyas found it in an ancient temple to the Force, back when he was a newly chosen padawan. It was one of his first missions out with Master Lene. I was still Temple bound with classes and had yet to travel on a mission with Master Yoda. Master Sifo-Dyas gave this to me when he returned."

Waxer elbowed Boil hard, to the point where Boil glared at him briefly. Then they both went back to staring at Master Doo. Master Doo just raised his eyebrows at them.

"Did you get one back?" Longshot asked Master Sy.

"Eventually," Master Sy said with an amused quirk of his lips. "Such things are difficult to come by, and Master Dooku had quite a time finding something comparable."

He reached into one of the inner pockets of his robe and pulled out a small dark blue pouch. The fabric wasn't like anything that Obi-Wan had ever seen before. It was so pretty and soft looking, and kind of furry. 

Master Sy worked the tie open and pulled out a large kyber crystal. It was just as deep a color as Master Doo's, but it was a mix of purple and blue. The stone sang in the Force.

"Wow," Obi-Wan breathed out.

"Why don't you use them for your 'sabres?" Wooley asked.

Master Doo hummed and picked up his crystal. "This one is very willful. It has calmed over the years, but when I was a padawan, its abilities and temperament were beyond me. Now, I suppose I could... but it always seemed too precious to risk on a mission. I generally keep it in my rooms at the Temple. As I am assigned to living on Mandalore for the foreseeable future, I brought it with me."

He looked at Master Sy, who shrugged. "I could use this one in my lightsabre, but the Force told me not to. I keep it on my person because that is what my instincts tell me to do."

That earned him several exasperated looks. 

"You're really just gonna keep carrying a rock around because it feels like you should?" Boil asked.

"How long have you even been carrying it?" Waxer added right after him.

Master Sy paused and stared off into the distance, clearly considering the question. "Hmmm. Thirty years? No, twenty eight, because Master Dooku gave it to me just after I was knighted."

"A worthy gift to honor your accomplishment," Master Doo said quietly. There was a small, satisfied smile on his face. 

The _vod'e_ were thinking _really hard_ at each other. Enough that Obi-Wan started to look at them in confusion. He couldn't quite get what they were going on about, but he could tell that they were very interested, and that Ben was mildly irritated.

"My master gave me a similar rock," Ben added, with a touch of exasperation. "Not as powerful as these, but a Force sensitive stone. I gave it to my padawan when he was a teen. Such gifts are common for Jedi."

"It's true," Master Sy said. "There are layers of meaning, depending on the gift given and the personality and abilities of the individual giving it, as well as the person receiving. For example, those in tune with the Living Force are more likely to give or receive something that will reflect that connection; an item that was or is currently alive. A master of the Unifying Force might be more inclined to give an inanimate object, such as the crystal I gave Master Dooku.”

“And then there are those like my old master,” Master Doo said wryly, “who often likes to give people what he thinks they need rather than what they would actually want or find useful. Such as gifting an item oppositely tuned to the receiver’s specialty. A reminder that all things exist in balance.”

Ben nodded along. “And all gifts are very carefully selected. Jedi are encouraged to not become too attached to material possessions --”

“Though every lineage has their hoarder,” Master Doo muttered dryly.

Ben raised an eyebrow at Master Doo, and then continued his thought. “Which makes a gift of this nature… special. It often denotes a close relationship.”

“I am deeply relieved that Master Dooku decided to gift me with kyber rather than a Force sensitive plant as some Jedi are wont to do.” Master Sy gave Master Doo a very amused look.

Obi-Wan got a tiny flash of an image of an older version of himself running very quickly away from a giant potted plant that was dragging itself along in an attempt to get to him.

Ben shuddered. He was probably thinking of that, too. "Thank the Force for that," he muttered. "Give me a rock any day over semi-sentient plants."

"General?" Cody asked. His voice was half-worried, and half-amused.

Ben gave him a deeply unhappy look. "Plants have pollen. Which I am occasionally allergic to. Another thing I learned the hard way during my padawanship."

Master Doo winced. "Ah. Qui-Gon and his collection of lost causes."

" _Exactly_." Ben crossed his arms and pouted. "His gathering of pathetic lifeforms extended to sentient plants."

The moment Master Doo had mentioned the name Qui-Gon, the _vod'e_ all started scowling. 

"Care to elaborate, General?" Helix asked, poking at Ben's arm.

Ben sighed, though Obi-Wan could tell he wasn't truly annoyed. More resigned, really. 

"Master Qui-Gon had a habit of finding creatures in distress and helping them. Dying potted plants, lost baby animals, injured predators. They flocked to him. At any given time our rooms were filled with half a dozen rescue cases."

"As were mine when he was my padawan," Master Doo said with dry amusement. "It is his connection to the Living Force. He is without a doubt the most gifted Jedi in that respect in all of the Order. He is uniquely attuned to life around him, able to sense the Force, both Light and Dark, in ways that most masters cannot dream of." 

He sighed and cast a mournful glance at Master Sy. 

"It does tend to make him a bit oblivious to the Unifying Force and those who follow it," Master Doo added.

"He is very much like his grandmaster in that way," Master Sy said dryly.

Obi-Wan puzzled over that. "You mean Master Yoda?" he asked.

Master Doo nodded. "Indeed. Master Yoda is very closely attuned to the Living Force. He prefers to focus on the here-and-now rather than the possibilities that the Unifying Force can hint at."

"But..." Obi-Wan let the word trail off as he thought that over. 

It suddenly occurred to him that the High Council didn't agree on everything. Maybe not even the Code itself. He knew that they argued a lot; he had so many dreams about them doing so. He'd just never realized that this could mean a difference of basic belief, too.

Master Sifo-Dyas seemed to understand where his mind had wandered to. He gave Obi-Wan a conspiratorial smile. "No, not everyone in the Order agrees on everything, young one. The Jedi as a whole like to present a unified front to the rest of the galaxy, but we have our own set of differences of opinions and social infighting, just as any group does."

This seemed to flummox the _vod'e_ as well, though Ben just sighed. 

"That does make sense," Crys muttered.

Helix shook his head. "I don't know why it sounds weird to say it out loud like that, though. We saw how much disagreement there could be."

"It's sort of weird to think of the _jetiise_ acting like one big _aliit_ ," Boil said musingly. "But that's really what it is, isn't it?"

"In many ways. Things... changed, with the war," Ben pursed his lips together. 

"That's maybe not a bad thing," Obi-Wan said absently.

Ben shot him a look. "What do you mean?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Donno. It's just. It's not always bad. Change."

He couldn't articulate what he was trying to say. Or even if there was something that he needed to say. His faint headache had returned and he was already feeling a little tired. 

He pushed it aside. There were better things to think about. Like the crystals that Master Doo had brought.

"Do you keep lots of extra crystals, Master Doo?" he asked instead of dwelling on the pressure behind his eyes.

"I have a small collection," Master Doo admitted. "If I come across something that looks like it might be useful later on, then I keep it. Saved for a rainy day."

"You don't give them over to the Temple?" Ben asked curiously.

"Some, perhaps. But decades as a knight have taught me that it is wiser to have compatible extras on hand in case I lose my weapon. A quick trip to Ilum is not always feasible."

Cody gave Ben a very pointed stare.

Master Doo noticed it, and raised an eyebrow at them. "Do you not do this yourself?"

"Not generally, no," Ben said with a shake of his head. "I donate whatever extra I find to the Temple 'sabre workshop. If I ever need a quick replacement, that's where I'd head anyways."

Master Doo sighed. "Ah, you are my padawan's padawan, to be sure." When Obi-Wan looked confused, Master Doo gave him a wry little smile. "Qui-Gon has faith that the Force will provide whatever he needs, whenever he needs it. As a master of the Living Force, he is nearly always correct. He can simply stretch out his senses and feel around for what he will need to complete any given task, and a way is shown to him to get it. I have never been able to instill into him that a little _forethought_ would go a long way towards not needing to rely on those gifts."

"Oh, you two must get along smashingly," Boil deadpanned to Master Sy, who smirked.

"We get along well enough," Master Sy said. "Master Dooku and Master Qui-Gon spent a great deal of time on off-world missions, and I have been a member of the High Council for a few years now. It meant we didn't spend as much time together as I would have liked."

Boil looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"Master Qui-Gon very famously disagrees with the High Council on a number of issues," Ben said with amusement. "He's called The Maverick for a reason."

"Conscientious dissent is likely a habit he picked up from me," Master Doo said. "I, too, have my qualms with the High Council. Though I am slightly less contentious than he is about it."

For whatever reason, that made half the _vod'e_ choke and stifle coughs.

Obi-Wan frowned at them. "You all alright?" he asked.

"We're fine, Cadet," Cody said warmly. 

Master Doo and Master Sy exchanged a quick look. They felt mildly amused in the Force, so Obi-Wan didn't worry about it.

"Do kyber crystals come in every color, Master Doo?" Obi-Wan asked.

"They do, though some are rarer than others," Master Doo said. "You'll find that blue and green are the most common, with teal, orange, yellow, and purple as secondary colors. White is rare, and I have only seen one black blade. That is the Darksabre, and it is a Mandalorian blade."

Obi-Wan filed that away in his mind.

"What about red?" he asked. There was something about red blades. He didn't want to ask. He felt like he _had_ to ask.

Ben stiffened next to him, but Obi-Wan was more focused on what Master Doo had to say.

Master Doo's expression turned grim and sad. "Ahhh, red crystals are their own, special circumstance, young Obi-Wan." 

He picked up his pretty blue crystal and held it up to the light. 

"Do you feel the power in this crystal, Obi-Wan? Can you sense that it has nearly a life of its own?" he asked.

Obi-Wan frowned and reached out with his mind. "It's like a voice," he said finally. "Like a whispering. Or a heartbeat."

"Yes. Each stone has its own personality. Those who follow the path of the Dark Side collect stones, and then they hurt them. Very badly. A red kyber crystal is one that has been bled with suffering and hate, until its own voice is lost and all that remains is a cry of pain."

"Oh--"

Obi-Wan would have said more, but the vision took him before he could so much as breathe out.

The world slipped away. In its place roared a fight. The sting of sweat on his face and the burn of his arms and legs. There was a figure in black spinning in front of him. They had red and black skin; tattoos, like Crèche Master Tinna had but different. _Meaner_. The figure had yellow, burning eyes. Obi-Wan could feel the hate in them.

And a red blade. It screamed in the Force.

Or maybe the screaming was Obi-Wan, because that red blade had just been shoved right into the torso of another Jedi. It was an older man, one that Obi-Wan had never seen before. Whoever he was, Obi-Wan loved him like a father.

Now he was _dead_.

The hateful, tattooed man grinned at Obi-Wan's pain. The energy shield between them dropped, and Obi-Wan flung himself forward into the fight.

"Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, stop, youngling. Everything is alright, you're fine, _please_."

It was Master Sy.

Obi-Wan couldn't see him for all the tears in his eyes. He couldn't see anything but that awful red blade.

"Let me go!" he yelled. "He's dead! Stop, I need to--"

He thrashed against Master Sy's hold. It didn't help at all. He couldn't move. He was crushed up against the soft linen and silk of Master Sy's tunics, his tears leaving wet splotchy marks down the front. 

"It's alright, little one," Master Sy crooned in his ear as he hugged Obi-Wan close. "Whatever you saw happened somewhere else, to someone else. You're safe. We have you."

A surge of love and worry swelled up from the _vod'e_ and wrapped him up just as tight as Master Sy's arms did. 

Obi-Wan stopped fighting and clung to Master Sy like he was a lifeline. He couldn't stop crying.

"He's dead, he's dead," he kept saying. He didn't even know who it was, only that he was important. "I failed him 'nd he's dead."

Master Sy rocked him and petted his hair and radiated calm and love. "Everything will be alright, Obi-Wan," he soothed. "We have you."

Obi-Wan wailed into Master Sy's chest and held on as tightly as he could. The echo of the pain of his vision seemed to lodge in his throat and in his chest. He could barely breathe from it. 

It was all too much. Nothing felt right. He was so caught up in how awful he was feeling that all he could do was hang on.

\--

\--- POV: Helix Mereel ---

The little one's vision spilled over into the network like a fuel fire. 

The General's low level shielding on them must have mitigated the issue, because Helix could only get a rough feel of what it was about. There were a few flashes of a Zabrak in black with a red 'sabre, and...

Oh.

Qui-Gon Jinn getting stabbed through the chest and falling.

Obi-Wan's pure agony at that sight hit the _vod'e_ like a sledgehammer. In a flash, Master Sifo-Dyas had scooped up the Cadet in his arms and held on to him tight. The Cadet fought him, kicking and screaming, while Master Sifo-Dyas did his best to hold him still and pour reassurances at him.

Eventually, the vision faded and the Cadet stopped fighting. The hurt that radiated from him didn't leave. It was all Helix could do to not drag the child from Master Sifo-Dyas' arms and hold onto him personally. He could feel that the rest of his _vod'e_ were in the same ship. 

They mentally reached out as one and sent back a wave of love and support through the bonds. Cody scooted close and put a hand on the Cadet's shoulder, giving them all the physical link that they craved. 

Obi-Wan sobbed into Master Sifo-Dyas' tunics, quieter now but no less ruined. The little one kept saying something over and over. It was hard to make out through the layers of fabric and all the tears. 

The General stepped over to Cody and leaned in to put a hand on the Cadet's back.

"It wasn't you, Obi-Wan," Kenobi said. "It was me. You didn't do anything wrong."

A flash of pure frustrated hurt blazed through Helix. "Neither did you, _di'kut_ ," he snapped out. 

Of _course_ the General would try to take on the responsibility for this. Helix had to stop and take a breath. His anger wasn't helping. Ben was already shielded to near-invisibility, but the Cadet wasn't. Any anger that they felt might leak back to him and that was unacceptable. 

Helix had not forgotten how the General had gone into a series of convulsions at the feel of their unshielded anger. That _could not_ happen to the Cadet. 

He took a breath and got his shit under control. 

Obi-Wan's crying had slowed to soft whimpers, but he didn't let go of Master Sifo-Dyas' tunics. 

"Come on, little one," Master Sifo-Dyas said, as he stood up. "Let's get you someplace more comfortable. You can sit with me on the couch and we'll just rest for a bit, alright?"

He cradled the Cadet in his arms and carried him over to the couch. His choice for sitting in the middle of the couch was clearly a deliberate invitation for the rest of them to join him. Helix made sure that he was closest. He fished out his diagnostic light.

"Hey, Cadet," Helix said quietly, stroking Obi-Wan's hair. "Can you look at me for a moment?" 

Obi-Wan shook his head, which only rubbed his tear-stained face into Master Sifo-Dyas' shirt.

Master Sifo-Dyas held him tighter and murmured into Obi-Wan's ear. Helix couldn't make it out, but the tone was comforting. The rest of the _vod'e_ crowded around to lend their support, with Cody flush up against Master Sifo-Dyas' other side. 

Master Sifo-Dyas cast them all a small, surprised look, but quickly focused his attention back on Obi-Wan. 

They waited a minute or two longer as the little one cried. Master Sifo-Dyas was doing _something_ with the Force. Helix could feel the room take on that peaceful tranquility again, though instead of the room feeling serene and sacred, it felt homier and safe. 

"Come now, Obi-Wan," Master Sifo-Dyas said. "Let Helix have a look at you. You don't have to stop crying, we just need to make sure that you aren't hurt."

"B-b-b-but I am!" Obi-Wan wailed. "It hurts!"

"I know, little one," Master Sifo-Dyas. "Sometimes visions are like that. Sometimes you see things that are Dark and sad and painful. It's hard to let that go. I have trouble with it, too."

That made Obi-Wan look up at him. Tears still dripped down his face, but he was listening now. Helix noted that the General had switched his focus to Master Sifo-Dyas, too, and though there was no trace of emotion from him in the network, his face held a hint of pained surprise.

Master Sifo-Dyas gently wiped Obi-Wan's face with his sleeve. "It's true. Ask Doo. I struggle with it all the time. The Cosmic Force seldom shows me things that are kind, and it can be difficult to keep my balance after that. Just remember that you are not alone, little one. Whatever you saw didn't happen here. That pain isn't yours, you just got caught up in it. Like being pushed by a wave in the lake room at the Temple. Let it wash through you and pass on its way."

Obi-Wan's face was still crumpled in misery, but the outright sobbing had stopped. He was still leaking tears and sniffing like crazy.

Master Dooku held out a handkerchief to Master Sifo-Dyas, who shot him a grateful look. 

Obi-Wan still wouldn't let go even as he allowed Master Sifo-Dyas to clean him up a little. When that was done, Helix took his opportunity and tilted the Cadet's face towards him. 

"How's your head?" he asked quietly as he checked to make sure that Obi-Wan's pupils were dilating correctly and that both could focus on the same thing.

"Hurts. Tired." Obi-Wan's voice was tiny and sad.

"As far as I can tell with the Force, he's sustained no damage from this," Master Sifo-Dyas said to Helix. "I think that whatever emotions the vision carried with it were simply overwhelming, which only compounded on his already exhausted state."

Helix shot him a sharp look.

"What do you mean, his exhausted state?" he said pointedly. "We've kept up on a good sleep schedule and he's been eating well. He was tired today, but not _distressed_."

Master Sifo-Dyas gave him a mildly chiding look. "Helix. Young children aren't made to handle stress the way that adults are. Just existing, seeing new things and learning about them all, takes a great deal of energy. Their brains haven't developed enough to deal well with strong emotion, even just their own. They can't process it well and it quickly becomes overwhelming."

A few things clicked into place in Helix's mind. 

Young bodies weren't developed enough to handle stress well. Not just Obi-Wan's body, but the rest of them too.

Kriff, no wonder they'd all been feeling a little more off balance the last few months. Especially the General. Their emotions felt _large_ to them simply because their younger child bodies hadn't caught up to what their former adult bodies were used to experiencing. 

His jaw hung open as his mind raced through all the implications of that. 

"Human brains don't stop growing and developing until their early twenties," he said absently. "Oh _kark_." He grimaced and shoved his light back into his belt pouch. 

Obi-Wan gave a watery giggle at the swearing while Master Sifo-Dyas just raised an eyebrow at him.

Helix ignored them and slumped back into the couch with a groan. "We're all gonna be emotionally compromised for _years_."

Dismay echoed through the network as that realization hit the rest of the _vod'e_. 

"Not to mention the hormonal changes during puberty," Master Dooku added, because as ever he was ready to make things worse. 

Helix very pointedly did not swear. No matter how much he wanted to. The Cadet was right there. They had to set a good example. 

Of all of them, only the General outwardly kept his calm. He was shielded well enough that Helix couldn't tell if he was _actually_ serene, or just faking it really, really well. His creds were on the General faking it. Especially after what they'd all seen flashes of in Obi-Wan's vision.

Kark. 

That was Master Jinn dying. The same event that'd had the General aching and raw like a _vod_ who'd just lost all of his batchmates, even after a decade of the man being dead. 

Helix rubbed his face. He was currently in the center of the pile, hemmed in by Crys, Waxer, and Boil. 

"Boil, go get a glass of water for the Cadet," he said, feeling tired. 

Force dammit. 

Boil hopped up to comply, and came back with admirable quickness. He handed the glass to Helix, who held it for the Cadet while he drank. The little one's hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't hold the cup at all. Between the two of them, they managed not to spill anything.

"Thank you, Helix," Obi-Wan said miserably. He turned his face back into Master Sifo-Dyas' tunics and hugged him.

Master Sifo-Dyas just petted his hair, giving no indication that he had any interest in moving at all. 

"It was a memory then, and not foresight?" Master Dooku asked, a touch hesitantly. He was sitting in a chair kitty-corner to the couch. Close enough to be only a step away from jumping in to help, but with enough space between him and the _vod'e_ to give them room. Helix appreciated the placement. 

"Yes," Kenobi nodded. His shoulders slumped tiredly and he leaned back into the couch. He was on Cody's other side, wedged in by the couch arm. "Someone I cared for a great deal was killed in front of me." He huffed bitterly. "One of many, I'm afraid, but this one happened to be killed by a Sith."

"A red blade," Master Dooku mused. 

Kenobi acknowledged that with a tilt of his head, but stayed silent.

The General had told them that Jinn had died, but hadn't really gone into the details of how, and he _definitely_ hadn't said that it was his fault. Granted, he had indicated that he felt responsible, but Kenobi felt that about everyone who died near him. Helix had just chalked the guilt for Jinn's death up to the General's regular issues. Now he was starting to second guess that assumption.

"Who was it?" Obi-Wan asked. He turned his head so that he could look at Ben while still laying on Master Sifo-Dyas' chest.

The General gave him a long, searching look.

Obi-Wan waited him out. Helix almost held his breath. These were dangerous and painful waters that they were daring to sail. The General didn't speak of his past easily, and never without a cost.

"My master," Kenobi said finally. "That was my master."

"But--" Obi-Wan looked up to Master Sifo-Dyas with confusion and then over to Master Dooku before finally settling back on the General. The confused wrinkle in his forehead deepened as he frowned. "Is that the man you were talking about before? Master Doo's old padawan?"

"Yes," Kenobi said. 

As one, the _vod'e_ tried to wrap the General up in a mental hug, but he was so well shielded that Helix couldn't tell if it had helped at all.

Master Dooku turned pale and clenched his jaw tight, and Master Sifo-Dyas cast him a worried look.

Obi-Wan hunched his shoulders and rubbed his face. His frown turned petulant, and the shift in his eyes and the feel of him in the network said he felt bad about being upset.

"I wanted Master Sy or Master Doo to be my master," Obi-Wan mumbled dejectedly. 

_Yesss_. 

Helix did not crow in triumph, nor did any of his _vod'e_ , but it was a close thing. The Cadet was on board with their plan to get him apprenticed to someone else this time around. Which was _excellent_.

The faint feeling of distress from the General only increased. He gave Obi-Wan a slightly pained look.

"I'm sure everything will work out for the best," he said evenly. 

Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku exchanged a look.

"That option isn't off the table, but you are far too young for it now and quite a bit can change in a few years. No matter what happens, we'll make sure that you have a good master, Obi-Wan," Master Dooku said. His voice rang with promise. 

Obi-Wan didn't answer. He just leaned into Master Sifo-Dyas.

Master Dooku shifted in his seat, folding his hands on his lap. 

"So Qui-Gon is murdered by a Sith," he said. Master Dooku closed his eyes for a moment. "Feeling a bond broken like that..." He shook his head.

The General didn't answer, though his expression went distant. 

"This is part of the reason that Master Yoda is so adverse to attachment," Master Dooku said. The way his gaze shifted to the _vod'e_ told Helix that he was explaining for their sake; no doubt the General already knew. 

"Master Yoda is over nine hundred years old," he continued. Boil whistled quietly. Master Dooku nodded at him. "Indeed. That is a great many years. The key part of this bit of information is that this means he was alive right after the fall of the Old Republic and was present for the latter portion of the subsequent clean up from the Sith Jedi War."

Helix's jaw dropped. That was _really kriffing old_. 

"Jedi are long lived beings by nature. Extended use of the Force increases the natural lifespan by double, generally. Which means that some of the masters who trained Master Yoda were alive and well during the Sith Jedi War. Back then, pair bondings were much more common. As were armored Jedi," Master Dooku added with an amused glance around the room. The amusement fled as quickly as it had arrived. "During the Sith-Jedi War, when one half of a strong pair bond was killed or Fell, the other half nearly always suicided or Fell as well. Some of the Jedi Order's bitterest enemies were those who had Fallen in such a way. Master Yoda well remembers those times."

Well, kark. 

That made sense. It was awful, but it made sense. 

"The pain of a strong bond broken violently is a difficult burden to bear," Master Dooku said quietly. "If you refuse to speak about your pain, no one can help you ease it, youngling. I would help, if you allow it."

There was no expectation in his expression or manner. He simply waited to see what the General would decide.

Helix really did hold his breath this time, if only for a moment, to keep himself from saying anything. It stuck in his craw like a rock that it was _Count kriffing Dooku_ who might get Kenobi to open up when the rest of them had been trying and failing for months, but right now he'd take _any_ progress on that front. For any reason.

Kenobi's face twisted into a pained grimace and his shields strengthened to the point where Helix could just barely feel that he was still alive. His expression smoothed out and he looked down at his hands on his lap. Cody leaned into his side; they were all still in their armor, but any touch would be a help.

At least it would if Kenobi let it be. 

"We'd already run into the Sith once," Kenobi said, haltingly. "We didn't expect to see him again. There was a battle--" He shook his head, clearly dismissing the idea of sharing those details. "Master and I were the only ones there who could handle the Sith. I wasn't-- I couldn't keep up. Master Qui-Gon ended up facing Maul alone." His expression turned bleak. "Maul killed him, and then I managed to return the favor."

He ducked his head. Cody wrapped an arm around his shoulders, clearly radiating _I don't give a kriff who is in the room, this is happening_. 

The rest of the _Vod'e_ shifted closer. Helix knew that they'd do more tonight, but for now this would have to be enough. Their prickly need to keep this kind of comfort private matched Kenobi's own reservations on public touch and affection. 

To Helix's vast surprise, Master Dooku stood up and stepped over to take a knee next to Kenobi. He carefully took one of the General's hands in both of his own.

"This is not your fault," Master Dooku said with utter certainty. Kenobi stared at him with wide eyes. "Every warrior faces this in battle. As a general, you know this. There will always be the thought, 'if I had only done _this_ ', or 'if I had only _known_ '. These sentiments betray your generous heart, for only those who care feel regret so keenly."

It looked like Kenobi might object, but Master Dooku shook his head and asked, "What would you tell one of your men who had lost their brother in battle?"

"I would tell them that they did the best that they could," Kenobi whispered. "That death is an inevitable consequence of war. We try to avert it as much as we can, but sometimes events are beyond our control no matter how well we prepare."

Master Dooku nodded. "Yes. Jedi are no different, Ben. The Force is with us, but even that is not enough at times. That is not your fault, nor is it the fault of the Force. We do our best but even a Jedi cannot be perfect all the time. Give yourself the same kindness that you grant your men."

The General shook his head, quickly, and he stared down at his lap again. This time his face scrunched up with unshed tears.

"It is hard, isn't it? To accept that, for all our power, there are some things beyond us." Master Dooku squeezed Kenobi's hand, and his voice was quiet and low. "The Code is cold comfort when faced with the loss of a loved one. This, I know very well. But you are not alone in your sorrow."

"You have us, General," Cody said. "We're here."

"As is the Order," Master Dooku said. "This is what a lineage is for. But that is beside the point." He waved a dismissive hand. "Even if the worst were to happen, and you were left physically alone, there is always the Force."

Helix did not make a face at that, though he wanted to. He kept the urge tightly under wraps, too. The last thing any of them needed was for the General to think that they felt that his beliefs were ridiculous. 

Now that Helix considered it, he had to wonder how much of the problem was a basic cultural difference. _Vod'e_ were always with the group. They lived together, trained together, slept together. A lone _Vod_ was a rare case, indeed. But from what Master Dooku had implied, and based on some of the other things they'd heard in the last few weeks, it seemed that Jedi were expected to stand alone most of the time. It would make sense for their built-in coping mechanisms to be designed around self sufficiency. 

Even if that wasn't always the best way to deal with problems. 

Helix found himself wondering just what a non-wartime _jetii_ _was_ encouraged to do with personal trauma. Dooku mentioned lineages, and certainly Kenobi had spent an intense amount of time around Skywalker and Commander Tano. Was his lack of a Master or Grandmaster a critical failure of a built-in system?

Force, but Helix wished that Healer Che had stuck around. She'd know how the kriff to deal with this.

"Death, yet the Force," Kenobi said softly.

"Yes. No one is truly gone, they have simply rejoined the flow of the universe. There is no grief so complete, no pain so all encompassing, that it cannot be accepted by the Light. You need only let it go. And believe me when I say that I know exactly how difficult that is."

He leaned in and crouched down just a tiny bit, catching Kenobi's gaze. "And until you can bring yourself to release that hurt, we are here to share the burden with you."

The durasteel grip that Kenobi had on his shields weakened the tiniest bit, and a fresh wave of heartsore hurt flowed into the network. Kenobi's eyes were wide and watery, but he didn't cry.

Master Dooku gave him a small, warm smile and squeezed his hand again.

"This was not your fault," he said again. "I will remind you whenever it is required. Now... if your body matched the mind I know you have, I would be getting you drunk this afternoon," Master Dooku said with a wry smile.

It was enough to knock a bark of laughter out of the General.

Master Dooku stood up and turned to walk towards the kitchen. "Please accept a cup of tea instead, and we can put a raincheck on the drunken commiseration." 

Kenobi laughed again. It was a shaky thing, and he rubbed his eyes as he did it. That feeling of wounded misery lessened drastically.

Obi-Wan squirmed out of Master Sifo-Dyas' lap, crawled across Cody, and settled himself in Kenobi's lap. He wrapped his arms around Kenobi's shoulders and clung to him. It took a moment, but the General answered in kind, holding Obi-Wan close. 

"I'll help Master Dooku," Master Sifo-Dyas said, standing up. "Once the tea is ready, how about we watch a holovid?"

"Yes, please, Master Sy. I don' wanna move," Obi-Wan said into Kenobi's shoulder. 

The moment both Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku were out of the room, Helix slid over to plaster himself to Cody's side. The rest of the _vod'e_ moved in as well, with everyone at least getting a hand on Kenobi. 

Kenobi let his head fall back onto the couch and he closed his eyes. He let out a soft sigh. 

"We've got you, _vod_ ," Cody said quietly. "We're here."

Helix reached across the back of the couch to run his hand through Kenobi's soft hair. Cody hugged Kenobi and Obi-Wan both, while the rest of the _vod'e_ gave them both as much contact as they could. 

Boil and Longshot kept their eyes on the doorway to the kitchen. They'd warn the rest of them if it looked like the Jedi Masters were coming back in. Helix got the feeling that they wouldn't be for a while. It was clear to him that they'd stepped out to give the rest of them some privacy. 

They sat there in silence, listening to the faint sounds of Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku tinkering in the kitchen. 

Little by little, the coiled tension in Kenobi's body relaxed. The pain that was leaking through his shields was still present, but it had gentled into something less crippling. 

He covered his face with his hand. "Are you all going to say, 'I told you so'?" he asked roughly, his voice quiet enough that it wouldn't carry into the other room.

"No," Cody said just as softly. "You beat yourself up enough. We don't need to add to it."

Kenobi made a sound that generously might have been called a laugh.

Obi-Wan wiggled a little, rocking Kenobi back and forth with his hug. The little one was a tumbling mix of emotions in the network, but above all he projected reassurance and care with a healthy dose of worry under it.

Another few minutes slipped by.

Right as Helix was starting to wonder what was taking the _jetiise_ so long, Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku walked back in, both holding trays of mugs. 

The _vod'e_ shifted away from Kenobi; not far, but enough to make the scene less personal. Obi-Wan didn't move until Kenobi urged him to shift around so that they could both grab a cup.

The scent hit Helix right in the face. It was warm and spicy and absolutely nothing like any tea that he'd ever smelled before. He'd never seen a tea that he could smell from across the room.

When Master Sifo-Dyas handed him a mug, he sat and stared at it. 

The drink was dark brown and opaque, like a heavy cream had been mixed in with something black.

"It looks like caff," Boil said suspiciously. He sniffed his cup and frowned. "Smells... sweet. And kinda like bread. Or baked goods."

"Is there caffeine in this?" Helix asked dubiously. They'd already had their allotted one cup of caff for the day.

"A very minimal amount," Master Dooku said, settling back into his seat. 

Helix and Crys very pointedly made space between them on the couch for Master Sifo-Dyas. He looked at them with more than a touch of surprise. When Helix just raised an eyebrow at him, he visibly gathered himself together and took his place. 

That was more than a bit weird, but after the _jetii_ had taken such good care of the Cadet, and with Dooku offering his support to the General, it didn't seem so awkward to offer Master Sifo-Dyas a spot on the couch. 

With him settled, Helix took a hesitant sip of his drink. It was rich and tasted just as flavorful as it smelled. There was a hint of sweetness, but not very much. Just enough to mellow the slightly spicy flavor. 

"This is a tea?" Wooley asked.

"Tastes like dessert," Crys said with mild surprise. 

"Not sweet enough for that," Waxer added.

"It's creamy!" Obi-Wan looked pleased.

"It has a black tea base," Master Dooku explained. "The first steeping is cast off to get rid of the excess stimulants and bitterness. The following steeping is brewed with a variety of spices, making a very potent concoction that is then mixed with bantha milk and a touch of honey."

"It's good." Kenobi took another drink. He watched his cup for a couple of breaths. "Thank you, Master Dooku."

"You are quite welcome, Ben."

\--


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Vod'e Sex Gossip Time again, beware.

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

It was kind of bewildering, really. They'd gone from the bitterest of enemies with Dooku to grudging tolerance to... whatever this was, in under four standard months of near-consistent contact and interaction.

They'd wound up on the training yard, as had become their habit in the evenings, and were running through their standard set of drills and practice. The ones they'd done daily aboard the _Negotiator_ , Waxer thought with a tiny pang.

" _Vod'e_?" Wooley asked, a bit hesitantly, breaking his mostly thoughtful silence, "Do you think maybe we should talk through all that weirdness that happened last rotation?"

"When we have some time to ourselves," Waxer agreed immediately.

"Right," Crys agreed, "We don't want to remind the General of those horrible memories more than we have to."

"We'll keep an eye out for a good moment," Helix agreed. "I have some concerns, too."

Boil snorted. "Those comments Master Sifo-Dyas made about age and emotion?"

"Among other things." Helix nodded.

The Commander took a deep breath, centering himself. "Talking through it isn't a bad idea. We need to work through what happened, ourselves."

"And _Vod'e_ always do that most efficiently in groups," Helix agreed.

With that, their planning ended, and soon after, their drills did, too.

The rest of the rotation felt a bit like a blur to Waxer. Nothing hugely exciting happened during their late meal, though their _buir_ had suggested that it might be past time to introduce the Cadet to Ardanna, which promised to be all kinds of entertaining. Waxer was looking forward to seeing what happened, when those two finally wound up in the same room. Odds were good that Ardanna would try to armour him up, too, just to prove she could cram any _jetii_ into _beskar'gam_ , and that the Cadet would resist with everything in him, just as Kenobi had for years.

They bedded down earlier than they ever had on the _Negotiator_ , and Waxer realised that they'd gotten used to doing that almost seamlessly, after the Cadet's arrival on planet. There was no reason to bring it up, though. He could save that for their upcoming talk.

After the early meal, the next rotation, the General gave them all a look, as if to say _don't burn down the palace without me_ , then took his leave with their _buir_ and Jango, making his way to the council chambers with the two of them for yet another discussion about the governorship of Concordia or something. Apparently they had a decision to make between the final two candidates and _buir_ wanted the General present to help him determine who would be the more trustworthy choice or something.

It was a golden opportunity.

As soon as the door closed behind Kenobi, Helix turned to them all and asked, "Waxer. Crys. Longshot. Did any of you three catch what Master Plo told Kenobi about shielding us?"

Waxer had to shake his head. "Not really. I was too busy trying to deal with not being able to feel the General in the network, at the time."

Crys and Longshot exchanged a look and their presences in the network went vaguely regretful.

Longshot answered, "If either of us could help you with that, _vod_ , we would. After the first time he tried to reach for us right after we got captured, we were in pretty much the same position as Waxer. He wasn't there, and then suddenly he was back. And so were all the rest of you."

With a dissatisfied expression on his face and a flash of regret-irritation in the network, Helix accepted that. "I'd suspected as much. It would've been nice if we could've used that technique to keep from bothering the General or the Cadet with this discussion, but I guess we'll just have to stick to our usual methods and hope for the best."

The Commander nodded, his own presence in the network falling between interested and resigned. "That would be a good plan, if we knew how to pull it off, Helix. I'll make a note to ask him to show us, now that we're making some progress on that front."

"For now, the issue of how to deal with our own emotions and balance is more important," Helix replied. "I hadn't really thought about it until Master Sifo-Dyas mentioned it, last rotation, but he was right. Being in an aged down body actually does matter when it comes to processing those kinds of shocks. We're mentally all still about 21 years old, standard, but physically, we're not, and that's making us all feel..."

He let the words trail off, searching for the right way to phrase the end of the sentence.

"Really kriffing weird, at times," Crys supplied, with a grumble underscoring the suggestion.

Helix huffed, amused, and went on. "Right. Basically we can intellectually process things as fast as we're used to, but our brain chemistry and actual physical brain development can't quite keep up, and that means sometimes we've gotten way more upset than usual about things that we'd just shrug off, before. In those moments, we've essentially been feeling upset and not knowing why because normally we would have already processed it and slotted it away but now our bodies haven't finished the job yet. Or maybe _can’t_ finish the job."

"Kark. No wonder the Cadet's been getting so upset about his visions of Kenobi's memories," Wooley muttered. "All those nightmares the little one's been getting..."

“It'll be worse for him than us, but yes,” Helix said with a shrug.

The Commander winced, his network presence going almost pained. "That all makes... a lot more sense than I'd thought it would, considering the whole time travel aspect of things," he commented. "So what do we do about it?"

"There's not a lot we _can_ do," Helix answered, with a grimace of his own that visibly signaled the frustration they all felt. "But just being aware of what's happening will help a lot. Knowing why we're reacting weirdly will give us a leg up on keeping it under control when it does inevitably happen that one or more of us gets overwhelmed by a memory or some event that happens in realtime. So far it's been the General who's been getting hit hard by his bad memories most often out of all of us, because we've been keeping ourselves more or less in balance, but we can't rule out the possibility that ours will resurface with a vengeance at some point. It's more likely to happen than not... if only because of the shielding practice we've been doing."

The Commander's expression went stony and blank, his presence in the network radiating remembered pain that bordered on anguish, and it was Waxer's turn to wince. After a beat, he gathered up his wits and said, "Yeah, that's pretty much going to be inevitable once we get better at it, and manage to actually shield one another out as strongly as the General can."

Boil put a hand on his shoulder and Waxer leaned into the touch. "The only way out is through," he said quietly. "We've got to practice under controlled conditions until we're comfortable enough with shielding that we won't freak out if we have to do it under fire."

"Right, if those Death Watch ever reappear, we'll have to be prepared to protect ourselves as we deal with them," Wooley agreed. Then he added, "The General can feel emotions, and... I'm starting to think I can, too? Not just in the network, but... other people, as well. Like _buir_ and _ori'vod_ and Ardanna."

The seven of them went quiet for a minute or so as they thought things over.

"I'm with Boil," Longshot said, breaking his silence. "We need to just shield until we're used to the way it feels. The association between not feeling a _vod_ and knowing that means they're marching far away is the problem. Not our ability to visualise a wall, or a lack of survival instinct. It's obvious we need to know how to defend ourselves against Force-based abilities, now that we're susceptible to them."

Crys nodded, "Agreed."

One by one, the others added their own voices, and when it came his turn, Waxer turned to the Commander. "Sir, I agree with the others, too. But maybe we can make this a little easier on us all."

The Commander met his eyes levelly, but Waxer could tell Cody wasn't sure he'd like what he was about to propose. "Go on."

"Rather than us all practicing at the same time, we should stagger it," Waxer said bluntly. "One _vod_ dropping off the network will be less of a shock for us all than if multiple _vod'e_ do simultaneously."

The Commander looked like he wanted to smile in relief and rage and scream all at once. "That's one of the most sensible plans I've heard in a while," he answered eventually, keeping his voice as neutral as he could manage.

"I doubt it's occurred to the General that this would help. He'd never knowingly inflict more pain on us than is unavoidable, but he's used to working with temple trained Initiates, when he teaches this sort of stuff. Or General Skywalker, who..." Waxer shrugged. "Well, he's a law unto himself."

"I'll talk to Kenobi about it," Helix said. "Just leave it to me."

"Right," Wooley said with a half-smirk, "coming from you, it'll have more weight."

"So if we've got that settled," Crys put in, redirecting the conversation, "can we talk about the fact that we karking trust Count Dooku to keep the Cadet's best interests in mind? Because that is just making me all kinds of confused."

Boil snorted. "We've had a couple of months to get used to the idea, _vod_ ," he said dryly. "Why are you so surprised that we've gotten to know the _jetii_? You know as well as I do that groups of _Vod'e_ are really good at sniffing out bad intentions. My squad had that karking _besom_ K'rrtass pegged after five minutes of his so-called 'instruction' in diplomacy. He was deliberately putting all kinds of subtle mistakes in what he said, just to test us."

Waxer made a face, remembering _that_ instructor. He'd been particularly unpleasant to deal with. Not that they'd had a choice. In fact, ironically, they'd learned more about diplomacy in trying not to piss the Trandoshan off than from his 'lessons'.

"I know what you mean, Crys," the Commander put in. "After getting so used to thinking of the guy as our General's deadliest enemy, during the War, it's karking strange to see him like this."

"Giving a kriff about our General and the Cadet?" Longshot asked rhetorically. "Yeah. But did you see how awkward he was, last rotation? It was kind of hilarious."

Wooley snorted. "He's been like that from the moment we met him, in this time. That _jetii_ has no idea how to handle younglings that aren't old enough to be apprenticed. But he cares about them anyway. And about the knights, too. You saw how he got when those two knights got hurt on Concordia. He was almost as bad as Kenobi about letting that go, even if he flung himself into chasing down the Death Watch instead of trying to throw all his energy into healing the knights."

"He got the General talking incredibly easily," Helix grumbled. "I swear it's like talking to another _jetii_ just undoes all kinds of locks that Kenobi has on his thoughts."

"Not quite," the Commander disagreed. "I'm pretty sure that still took one hell of a leap of faith. To the best of my knowledge, the only _jetiise_ he ever confided in, in our own time, were Master Plo and sometimes Master Windu."

"My point stands, though," Helix argued, not giving a span. "We tried for a year and a half to get him to talk to us, and failed, and Dooku managed to get him to open up in a matter of karking weeks."

"I'm just glad he opened up at all," Wooley said. "For all our sakes."

"Right, keeping that level of pain bottled up is just an invitation for disaster to strike if the bottle ever breaks," Boil grumbled.

"Exactly," Helix muttered. "Not that Kenobi ever karking listens to me when I tell him that."

Longshot hummed thoughtfully. "You know, _vod'e_ ," he said slowly, "I wonder if we can take advantage of this somehow."

Helix raised an eloquent eyebrow at him. "Explain," he demanded.

"Well, you all saw what Dooku did. Offer comfort and an ear to listen, and work through the intellectual side of things, and then immediately hand the General off to us so we could wrap the network around him and calm him down," Longshot expanded on his first statement. "That'd make for a very effective tag-team, if we can get him on-sides."

Helix's eyes went wider. " _Force_ ," he said with a sigh. "That's actually kind of brilliant, _vod_."

Longshot grinned. "I do have good ideas, sometimes," he reminded their medic, sardonically.

"You all do," Waxer agreed, tilting his head towards their sharpshooter in acknowledgement. "And I like that plan, myself. Commander?"

"I'm not sure it'll work, knowing how... closed off Kenobi is," their intrepid leader said slowly, carefully, "but it's the best plan we've got, at the moment."

"If we can trust Masters Dooku and Sifo-Dyas with the Cadet, we can trust them with the General," Wooley reasoned. "So far neither of them has been anything but supportive. I say, we do it and keep a close watch on how things progress."

"Sounds workable," Helix said, his network presence suddenly feeling much less stressed, now that he had a plan for what to do about the whole affair.

"So why do you think Dooku is so allergic to emotions?" Crys asked, tone of voice almost as thoughtful as Longshot's had just been.

"Maybe it's a cultural thing?" Longshot suggested. "All _jetiise_ seem to do that."

Shaking his head, Wooley said, "Well, if that's a requirement for being a _jetii_ , I've already failed. No way am I letting anyone tear me away from you lot, even if you are a bunch of _di'kut'e_."

"I doubt trying to cut yourself off from the network that permanently would end well for any of us anyway, _vod_ ," Boil answered. "Even if you wanted to."

Waxer suppressed a shudder at the thought. "Just thinking about it makes me cringe," he muttered.

"Me too," Crys said, then yanked them back on topic. "Master Sifo-Dyas wasn't nearly as awkward, though, so I don't think it's a cultural thing, necessarily, Longshot."

"Sifo-Dyas is also a lot better at handling the Cadet," Helix put in. "Did you see the look on Master Dooku's face when the Cadet glued himself to his leg?"

Boil snickered. "I was sad not to have my holocam."

"Maybe it has to do with what they learn from their Masters, then?" Longshot suggested. "Master Plo definitely has no problem at all with younglings."

"That rings truer," Wooley said. "And it would explain why General Skywalker and Commander Tano both turned out so... unorthodox. If it was a cultural thing, neither of them would show their own emotions so openly. The General sure doesn't."

"And speaking of cultural things," the Commander surprised them all by saying, "there was something else that surprised me."

"The thing about the kyber crystals?" Helix guessed.

Commander Cody gave their medic a wry smile. "Right."

Boil nodded. "I saw it, too. They both looked like they wanted to be incredibly sappy and stare into each others' eyes, the whole time they were talking about it."

Waxer snickered. "Seriously. I don't know how the General can't see it. It's so karking obvious that they're _riduur'e_. They've done the _jetii_ equivalent of exchanging armour. They follow the _Resol'nare_. They're... in synch with one another."

"Remember what General Kenobi said, when Senator Amidala and Senator Organa were on board the _Resolute_ for that trip they made to speak to the Separatists' Council," Wooley said, quiet and serious in the network. "He didn't mean for us to hear him, _vod_ , but... how did he put it. Something to the effect of ' _we can't be forced to report what we don't acknowledge_ '."

"Oh, kriff," Waxer swore. "That's right, _jetiise_ can tell when someone's lying."

"No wonder they hate talking about anything that even implies someone they're friends with might be breaking their Code," Longshot said, his voice filled with dawning realisation. "The General's protecting them, even though he's not part of the Order right now."

"That would make sense," the Commander replied, staring off into the middle distance as he thought that over. "If he feels they're worth protecting, he'll do whatever he can to make sure they stay in one piece. And he's still thinking like he's a High Councilor, himself. Kenobi's had to get used to not being a General, over the last couple of months, but that..."

"I think you may well be dead on target, there. If the General doesn't acknowledge what's happening, it never happened, as far as his karking High Council's concerned. That explains so much about the way Kenobi just... always looked away when General Skywalker was anywhere near his Senator," Helix said, and groaned. "You know, we really didn't need another problem to solve. It was hard enough to get him to stop reflexively shoving us away, and then we had to get him used to not being in the GAR. But I don't think we can get anywhere near the issue of showing him that he doesn't answer to the Council anymore."

"We can't," the Commander answered, looking like he had a plan, "but Master Plo might be able to. Or maybe Master Sifo-Dyas."

"Or Master Windu," Waxer added.

"Master Dooku's already working on that," Boil pointed out. "He's told the General more than once that he's not bound by the rules of the Order, so long as he's on Mandalore and doesn't explicitly join them. Which he's outright declared he won't do in front of _buir_ 's council. Jango told us about that, remember?"

That got his _riduur_ a round of nods.

"Skywalker still needs to learn the meaning of the word 'subtlety'," Crys grumbled after a few seconds had passed, in response to their wordless acknowledgement that they could move on to more interesting issues.

All of them laughed, and the atmosphere in the room lightened. It was a distinct relief to be done with the heavier topics.

"There's a good reason why he and the 501st get along so well," Waxer reminded him.

A brief silence fell, easy and companionable. Waxer could tell that his _vod'e_ were all already feeling a lot better about the events under discussion.

"So if they refuse to acknowledge that someone's cheating at sabacc..." Crys speculated, letting the sentence trail off.

Longshot scoffed. "That's not how it works, _vod_."

"Definitely not," Helix said, looking and feeling a little bit awed. "The General and both of those Masters are too karking good at cheating."

"You know," Wooley said, "that would explain why the General preferred to play with the 501st. I'd bet he felt less bad about swindling them than us."

"He did always manage to win red lace," Boil agreed, using the slang that had originated from the incident that the Cadet had mentioned during their games.

The Commander rolled his eyes. "I'm just thankful," he grumbled, "that Fives karking wagered something _relatively_ innocuous."

Waxer blinked, then laughed. "Oh _Force_ ," he got out in between chuckles. "Just imagine if that _di'kut_ had wagered something more risqué. Like a blowjob."

Boil laughed hard enough to have to lean on him.

The Commander pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'd rather not," he said, tone firm and bordering on quelling, but Waxer could tell he was amused.

Crys' eyes were wide and he was staring off into the middle distance, at something only he could see. A quick touch in the network reassured Waxer that his _vod_ was alright, and he asked, "Crys? What are you thinking about so hard?"

"Do you think that's why Master Fisto is always taking off his clothes when he's on mission with his Battalion?" Crys responded, his voice faraway.

Caught off guard, Waxer stared for a moment, then shrugged. "It wouldn't surprise me, given some of the stories that Commander Monnk had to tell."

"He's not human, though," Boil said. "Does he even have the compatible genitalia for that kind of thing?"

"Five creds says the General knows," Wooley declared, and Waxer felt the Commander's presence in the network go a little bit annoyed in response.

Helix ignored the reaction, though, so Waxer let it go, too. "Kenobi did say he had to take a course that dealt with the customs around and attitudes towards sex in a variety of cultures," he recalled. "That kind of thing was almost certainly covered, considering that Master Fisto isn't the only Nautolan at the Temple."

That got the Commander to relax, and Waxer realised the _di'kut_ had thought Wooley had meant that Kenobi knew that _through personal experience_.

Longshot distracted Waxer from that a moment later. "Those head tentacles of his could be a lot of fun to play with," he speculated.

"Oh Force," Waxer blurted as he imagined that. "You think he can move them like his limbs? Commander Monnk says they just kinda float around him underwater."

Helix picked that up to answer. "Many species have prehensile appendages, but I don't know enough to say for sure one way or the other."

They all exchanged looks. Waxer could tell that, now that the Commander had relaxed, he was kind of curious, himself.

"Think the General would tell us if we asked?" Wooley wanted to know.

"Probably," the Commander replied.

"I kind of need to know, now," Crys muttered and scrubbed at his face. "What if he doesn't?"

"Well, you could always ask Master Dooku instead," Longshot pointed out.

The Commander scoffed. "He'd just give you some kind of non-answer that leaves you questioning your life choices for rotations. Remember how he got us chasing our tails with that comment about arranged marriages."

Crys grinned. "That's not a 'don't do it'," he pointed out.

"No. It isn't," the Commander answered with a tilt of his head, "but I'm not going to bail you out if you do it and dig yourself into a hole."

\--- POV: Sifo-Dyas ---

In an effort to give Obi-Wan a little more rest, Sifo-Dyas gave him the morning off from lessons. Wooley had invited them to the armoury during his regular apprenticeship time with Armourer Ardanna, and Obi-Wan had about bounced himself out of the room with excitement. 

The _vod'e_ had invited Doo to join them as well, probably out of courtesy. Sifo-Dyas was grateful for the invitation, regardless of the motivation behind it. It was always a joy to spend more time with Doo, and an extra hand to watch the youngling was appreciated. The _vod'e_ did an excellent job, but Sifo-Dyas had some reservations about how excited they might be about showing off ordinance to their favorite youngling. 

Besides, it was deeply amusing to see Doo flail in his attempts to properly interact with a small child. 

The armoury was closer to the _Mand'alor_ 's wing of the palace than he expected. Sifo-Dyas was not at all surprised by how large it was.

He was somewhat surprised by the room's beauty. There were crates stacked along the wall as well as stands with full suits of _beskar'gam_ displayed. Weapons lined the walls, each one within easy reach to those who walked by. But above those displays, the room stretched up to a high ceiling with large windows that opened up near the top. Sunlight poured into the room in luminous shafts that made the dust in the air glow. Every flat surface in that main room was embossed with images made of wrought metal. Battle scenes of Mandalorians fighting a wide variety of enemies. 

Experience also had him noting the extra blast doors and window coverings, currently propped open. Once properly secured, this room would be extremely defensible. 

The back of the room opened into a wide hall with several smaller, adjoining rooms. Individual workshops, from what little he could see. All the way in the back, right at the end of the open hall, was the blue glow of the _beskar_ forge.

Ardanna was seated at a work table in the main front room. She didn't bother to rise when they all walked in. Sifo-Dyas was not surprised. This was her realm, and clearly the position of Master Armourer was one of great cultural importance. 

"Wow, a-mazing," Obi-Wan whispered as he looked around. His eyes were as wide as saucers. 

Sifo-Dyas bowed respectfully to Ardanna once he was in range, and Doo followed suit. A light touch on Obi-Wan's shoulder reminded him to do so as well.

"Good morning, Master Armourer," Sifo-Dyas said. "Thank you for allowing us to visit."

"Good morning, Master Jedi," Ardanna replied with a nod. "Come, sit. My apprentice will show your _ad'ika_ around."

Obi-Wan bounced himself right over to Wooley and immediately began dragging him off to look at various things around the room. Sifo-Dyas couldn't help but smile the tiniest bit. 

Longshot and Helix peeled off to join Wooley and Obi-Wan. Ben and Cody hadn't joined them at all; they were busy with the _Mand'alor_ and his council this morning. Crys, Boil, and Waxer took seats around the table with Sifo-Dyas and Doo. There were several projects in various stages of completion scattered across the tabletop. Sifo-Dyas made sure not to touch any of them. 

They all watched Obi-Wan's enthusiasm with near-tangible amusement. Sifo-Dyas was relieved to see that Wooley kept the little one away from actually holding any of the weapons, though the armour appeared to be fair game.

"You've done a good job with your _ad'ika_ , _jetiise_ ," Ardanna said, her voice pitched so that it wouldn't carry. "He is a credit to your Order."

"Thank you, though I cannot take even a fraction of the credit for it. Obi-Wan has been raised in the crèches, and he was only brought to my attention a few months ago," Sifo-Dyas replied. 

From the unimpressed raised eyebrow that she gave him, Ardanna didn't buy that at all.

Rather than disputing the claim, she instead cast a critical eye down to his tunics. "Of all the _jetiise_ that I have spoken to so far, you have given me the least hostile response regarding armour."

Since Sifo-Dyas' response to her query about that subject had been a relatively polite negative, so he had to wonder what the other Jedi had said. 

He looked at Doo, who just tilted his head in acknowledgement. "You allowed that it might happen one day, for the right reasons, while the rest of us very promptly declined," Doo explained.

Ahh. Yes, that would do it. 

"And yet I heard that Master Plo now has a new, _beskar_ antitox ventilator," Sifo-Dyas said mildly. "Thank you for that, by the way," he said to Ardanna.

"The _vod'e_ like him," she replied with a wave. "It was a good project for Mira to start on, once the plans were drawn up. I find it curious that you should thank me, though. Are the two of you friends?"

"Master Plo and I are both members of the High Council." That was not the same as being friends. It was general enough a statement that one could infer, though. It implied friendly association.

"I see." From the calculating look on Ardanna's face, she obviously didn't hear the implied friendliness. That could be dangerous, given that she'd already said that the _vod'e_ favored him so much. 

Better to not leave her the impression that he and Plo were at odds.

Sifo-Dyas shook his head. "Master Plo and I get along well enough, Armourer Ardanna. Better than I get on with many other members of the High Council. But I would not presume to say that we are friends."

That was more direct than he liked to be, especially when edging on the subject of how the vast majority of the Order liked to avoid him like the plague. Doo's Force presence brushed up against his in an unvoiced show of support; he knew very well just how frequently Sifo-Dyas was alone. It mirrored his own experiences in the Temple, after all.

It was the right thing to say, though, because Ardanna nodded again, this time more relaxed. 

"Since you seem to have a modicum more sense than the rest of the _jetiise_ , tell me, what armour would you put Master Dooku in?"

For whatever reason, that made Crys, Boil, and Waxer all choke or cough.

Sifo-Dyas and Doo both looked at them sharply. Ben's shielding was immaculate as ever; Sifo-Dyas couldn't get a read on whatever they were feeling about that question. Their body language said that they were amused, or perhaps astonished, and trying to cover it up. Ardanna's Force presence was placid and unperturbed. 

Something was going on, and it reeked of gossip. 

Probably not malicious, though. Force, but Sifo-Dyas really did need to read that text on Mandalorian armour. 

Tonight. He was going to start it tonight.

"I hesitate to say," Sifo-Dyas replied. He schooled his face to serenity. Giving them a reaction would only encourage them. "It wouldn't be my place to make such a choice for him."

"Hmmm. But you are familiar with his style of fighting."

Doo raised an eyebrow at her, clearly feeling less patient with her prodding than Sifo-Dyas was.

Sifo-Dyas thought about it. The Force gently tugged at his mind. This conversation would be important. Important enough that he should answer as best he could.

He closed his eyes and summoned up as many glimpses of Doo's future as he could remember. He'd had visions hinting at various paths over the years; Doo always insisted that he not know about them. Not unless his knowing would avert some great disaster. So far, that hadn't been the case.

Some of those visions were certainly darker than others, though. 

"He won't wear armour like General Kenobi," Sifo-Dyas said, distracted. "Not _beskar'gam_ , nor white plastoid alloy."

He tilted his head as he shuffled through the scraps of remembered visions. Bits of wars and duels. In all of them, Doo wore something similar to traditional Jedi robes. It was of finer make and not technically Jedi apparel, but in the same long tunic design with high boots. 

"He'll have an armourweave cloak..." Sifo-Dyas was sure of it. "But he'll get that on his own..."

One particular image lingered in Sifo-Dyas' mind. Doo, older. Much older. Kneeling on the observation deck of a spaceship. Force, but there was such Darkness there; Sifo-Dyas had never been able to figure out if it came from Doo or from one of the other shadowy figures around him. His hands had been cut off. Cauterized.

Decision made, Sifo-Dyas opened his eyes.

"Cortosis bracers. I'd encourage him to wear cortosis bracers," he said firmly.

Doo gave him a worried look. "Sy..."

Sifo-Dyas shook his head. "The future is always in motion, and you are a fighter who specializes in lightsabre to lightsabre duels. It is just common sense." He softened his expression and folded his hands on the table, even though he would have much rather reached out to give Doo the comfort of touch. "There are many years yet to consider it, Master Dooku."

Meaning that what he'd seen in his vision was far into the future. 

"Ah." Doo settled himself and gave Sifo-Dyas a respectful nod. "I will take your recommendation under advisement, Master Sifo-Dyas."

"How very curious," Ardanna said, eyeing them both.

Sifo-Dyas didn't bother to react to it. He'd long since lost any possible emotional response to someone being exposed to his abilities. 

The _vod'e_ at the table were watching them as well, though their expressions looked more interested than alarmed. 

"And what of you, Master Sifo-Dyas?" Adranna asked. "What would you choose for yourself?"

"A more difficult question," Sifo-Dyas mused.

"Is it?" She looked a bit surprised.

Sifo-Dyas had seen glimpses of several possible futures for himself. None of them were pleasant. He didn't particularly _like_ to think on that.

"You would not ask me to choose for him?" Doo asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She raised one right back at him. "You have already stated that _jetiise_ do not wear armour. He at least admits the possibility."

Crys snorted in amusement, and then covered his mouth. 

Sifo-Dyas sighed and held back a grimace. The Force was still nudging at the back of his mind. The tugging was _annoying_. 

"I cannot imagine that _beskar'gam_ would be comfortable enough for me to move in, the way I need to. But perhaps armourweave..."

That tugging became a full on nagging, bolstered by a sharp needle of pain.

"Dark colors, I would say..." he muttered. He wasn't looking at the room anymore. There was something swirling in his vision. Heavy fabric and solid clomp of tough boots. The feel of metal plates, and a shining black _beskar_ helm. It was indistinct. He couldn't... quite...

His words came out without any intent to speak them. "You won't make me most of what I wear, Master Armourer. Just the one piece. A student of your student will, with the aid of others..." 

The images were too fleeting. The Force contracted around him and finally released him.

Sifo-Dyas winced hard and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Master Sy?" Obi-Wan called out from across the room. He sounded worried.

"I'm fine, youngling," Sifo-Dyas said. He allowed himself one last tight pinch in an attempt to ward off the mild headache that the vision had left him with. Then he straightened up and smiled at the little one. "Nothing to worry about."

Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment longer, clearly attempting to figure out how much of that was truth. Then he turned back to the jetpack that Wooley was showing him.

"Master Sifo-Dyas?" Doo said quietly. He'd leaned in just the tiniest bit, and Force, but Sifo-Dyas wished that they dared touch.

Sifo-Dyas shook his head minutely. "Truly, it was nothing. Just more infuriatingly vague images."

"And the accompanying headache," Doo said dryly, but didn't argue further.

Sifo-Dyas shrugged. All told, it was a minor inconvenience. 

Ardanna gave them both a long look. "I can see that questioning a _jetii_ is a perilous endeavor."

Sifo-Dyas huffed quietly in amusement. Doo just smirked. 

"It is an acquired taste," Sifo-Dyas said.

The look he got back very plainly said that Ardanna wasn't sure she would ever see the appeal.

"Just how often do you get visions?" Waxer asked.

"Frequently."

The _vod'e_ grimaced at that, and not so subtly glanced towards Obi-Wan. 

"He'll be fine, troopers," Sifo-Dyas said automatically. He couldn't have said why he decided to call them that, but the three of them jumped in recognition, so it must have been correct. 

"Young Obi-Wan has a great deal of support at the Temple," Doo said, picking up the thread of conversation. Sifo-Dyas was grateful. He wanted another moment to settle his mind. "Master Plo, Master Windu, and Master Fisto have all taken an interest in him, and they are all kind beings."

Crys' eyes narrowed and he leaned in towards them.

Before he could say anything, Waxer was already talking. "Good. I know you keep telling us, but it's still good to hear."

Boil nodded along with Waxer, and then did a double take at Crys' expression. " _Vod_. _Vod_ , no."

"Why not?" Crys said. "They're here, we're here. We trust them enough to teach the Cadet. _Jetiise_ seem to be as interested in education as _Mando'ad'e_ are." He gestured back and forth between them as if this logic somehow explained anything.

Waxer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "The Commander is going to kick you across the training yard personally."

"Hey, he said I could try," Crys defended.

"And he also said you could reap the consequences of your actions yourself, too." Boil poked his shoulder. Crys just batted his hand away.

Sifo-Dyas exchanged a mystified look with Doo. 

Whatever Crys had to ask would likely be impolite, based on this interaction. Sifo-Dyas wasn't particularly concerned. People asked him impolite things all the time. It came with the territory of being a Jedi. Beings all over the galaxy were endlessly curious about the mysterious Jedi Order. 

He was more intrigued by how the _vod'e_ were good-naturedly arguing in front of him. It meant they were relaxed enough in his presence to do so. Perhaps that shouldn't have been a surprise given the last week or two. Somehow it still was, despite that.

"Ask, Crys," Sifo-Dyas prompted him. He might as well reward their trust with positive interaction. "I am a difficult person to offend."

Waxer buried his face in his hands while Crys grinned like a fiend.

"You know Master Fisto, yeah?" At Sifo-Dyas' nod, Crys continued. "He's a Nautolan."

"Yes." Sifo-Dyas did not see where this conversation was going.

Crys leaned in even farther, propping one arm up on the table. "How do their species have sex?"

Sifo-Dyas blinked.

"Do they even have a penis? Is it in a, a, a pouch? Like a fish? I mean, he has all those head tentacles. Does he have tentacles in other places?" Crys gave him this look like he was trying to say, _you see where I'm coming from, right?_

Ardanna looked at him incredulously. "Really, _ad_?"

Sifo-Dyas sorted himself rather quickly. Basic biology, then. That wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected.

"Male Nautolans have claspers," he said. "I'm not sure how much you know about marine creatures --"

"A fair bit. We grew up on an ocean world," Crys said.

Sifo-Dyas tucked that bit of information away.

"Yes. Well, a Nautolan's claspers are similar to other deep ocean predators. Males sport two appendages in the groin area; each appendage is roughly the size of a baseline human's penis, but prehensile. During copulation, the claspers work their way into the female to deliver sperm. It's very similar to human reproductive acts."

As always, Doo was right there ready to throw more fuel on the fire for Sifo-Dyas.

"Indeed," Doo said with a sage nod. "The act of sex for pleasure is similar for their species as well, with analogous orogenous zones. Though as I understand it, their head tentacles are particularly sensitive, as well, with the ability to taste what they touch. They are not quite prehensile, though can still move autonomously to some degree."

Crys just stared at them, agape, with interest and wonder. As if he couldn't quite believe they actually had an answer for him. 

Waxer and Boil just blinked at them.

"Whatcha talkin' about, Master Sy?" Obi-Wan had drifted over, trailing the rest of the _vod'e_.

"Sexual reproductive systems of non-human species," Sifo-Dyas explained.

Obi-Wan got a puzzled frown. 

"Where babies come from, little one," Doo supplied. 

"Ohhh." Obi-Wan nodded in understanding.

The _vod'e_ just stared at Doo like he'd grown a second head. 

Doo raised an eyebrow at them. "Yes?"

Waxer snapped his mouth shut with a sharp _click_. "Nothing, Master Dooku, it's just..."

"We thought all _jetiise_ were prudes," Boil filled in.

Doo let out a short laugh, and Sifo-Dyas couldn't help but cackle a little. They looked at each other and grinned.

Prudes.

The thought of it was ridiculously funny. 

Even though they'd been devoted to each other for years, that certainly didn't mean that they were exclusive. Though they always consulted the other first and almost always such occasions were nights where both Sifo-Dyas and Doo took an extra lover together. Just for variety. Sometimes three people in bed was the right amount.

He could tell that Doo was thinking the same thing he was. Probably remembering the last time they'd invited someone else to their bed. Force, but it had been more than a year since then. Maybe two, now that he considered it.

Thinking on it now, Kit Fisto _was_ a very attractive being. Different from what Sifo-Dyas was used to, surely. He'd never had intimate relations with a Nautolan. He was certain that Master Fisto enjoyed the company of baseline humans as much as he did his own species; the Nautolan was a notorious flirt and open with his affections.

Doo's mind touched his with the surety of long practice. _Think of something you want to try, my dear High Councilor?_

Sifo-Dyas didn't hesitate to send back the sensation of his speculation and interest. 

_Maybe_ , Sifo-Dyas answered him in kind. _If Master Fisto is interested in joining us for an evening. I don't know him well enough at the moment, and there are complications due to our position... But perhaps..._

He sent along a wordless query, feeling out how Doo might take the suggestion. If Doo wasn't interested, then it wouldn't be worth it.

_Color me intrigued. If you would like to, I'm willing to give it a try._

Doo really was the best.

Doo added, _Though it may be a while before I can visit Coruscant again._

_I'm aware_ , Sifo-Dyas sent back. He couldn't help the sadness that the thought caused him, but he did try to limit it. _That will give me time to see if he's even amenable to the idea._

With a wordless wave of agreement and love, Doo's mind pulled back. The whole conversation couldn't have taken more than a second or two.

They were still Jedi Masters. They'd kept their expressions schooled throughout the mental exchange, though Sifo-Dyas at least didn't bother to stop the smirk of amusement that lingered on his face.

"The Jedi Order forbids _attachment_ , youngling. Not sex," Sifo-Dyas explained to the _vod'e_ as he brought his thoughts back to the matter at hand. 

"Sex is natural," Doo continued. "An excellent way for the body to relax, provided both parties are willing and in agreement of the actions taken."

"Consent is very important," Sifo-Dyas said to Obi-Wan, who was watching with rapt attention. 

"Yes, Master Sy," Obi-Wan said obediently. 

The sheer look of _what the kark_ that the _vod'e_ were sporting would keep Sifo-Dyas amused for a good long time. Ardanna looked more speculative.

"I shudder to think of what Ben has been teaching you, if you think that all Jedi avoid intimate contact." Doo shook his head sadly. "Perhaps he took a vow of celibacy? That is not the norm for our Order, but it does happen."

Sifo-Dyas almost got whiplash from how quickly the _vod'e_ 's expressions went from shocked to offended to worried. He could almost _hear_ the 'oh no, did he?'

"But he flirts," Waxer stammered weakly.

"Flirting is enjoyable for many beings," Sifo-Dyas said. He let his expression turn stern, though inside he was dying a little to keep his laughter in check. "And it does not imply the requirement of followthrough in any way. As you all should know."

Like that, the _vod'e_ were back to being offended. 

"Of _course_ it doesn't--" Helix started.

"Good then," Sifo-Dyas said, interrupting him before he could get worked up. "Then you are well aware that he might just find flirting fun, and that has nothing to do with his intimate life."

“Especially given his age,” Ardanna added. Her expression was neutral, but her body language said that she was more than a little bothered by the subject matter.

Ah, yes. Because she likely didn’t know that Ben had lived a whole life before now. Well, that made this conversation awkward. 

Might as well go along with it, since apparently she hadn’t been pulled into the loop. That was going to be a social tangle later on, and Sifo-Dyas was very relieved that he wouldn’t have to personally deal with it.

He nodded towards her. “Exactly.”

"What's cell-eh-bess..." Obi-Wan struggled with the word.

"Celibacy," Doo provided. "It's when someone refrains from participating is sexual acts. A vow of celibacy is when someone makes a solemn promise to never indulge in such activities. This is a personal choice."

Obi-Wan nodded, but still looked mildly confused.

"Don't worry, Obi-Wan. It's a very confusing thing, even for adults at times. Once you're a little older, you'll have a class on it." Sifo-Dyas patted Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"No, I know. Crèche Master Tinna told us that already." 

"I admit I am surprised by that, _jetiise_." Ardanna gave them both a searching look.

"Why?" Doo asked. "The Jedi Order is home to species from all across the galaxy. A basic understanding of what to expect from fellow Jedi is critical information for an initiate."

Crys and Boil looked like they were still sorting through the idea that a Jedi could have sex and not be embarrassed about it. Sifo-Dyas almost wished he could take a holo. He'd show it to Master Windu, who would likely even crack a smile.

"Maybe it's because we are such a serious group," Sifo-Dyas said to Doo with an air of contemplation.

"That just means we approach every activity with dedication," Doo replied in kind. 

Waxer choked and started coughing. Boil had to thump him on the back to help him breathe. Helix just looked at Sifo-Dyas and Doo like they were misbehaving cadets.

"Is there a class on that too?" Helix asked dryly.

Clearly, he was trying to get a reaction from them. Likely in an attempt to see if they were being mocking. 

Sifo-Dyas had always liked a challenge. "Not officially, no," he answered very seriously. "Once a padawan is of age, then they are welcome to pursue physical relationships with other consenting adults, provided that said consenting adult is not their master, a teacher, or anyone else in a position of authority. Generally the padawan's master has the authority to bar the activity if it appears unhealthy or harmful."

"There are certainly senior padawans who take it upon themselves to offer an educational introduction to those of their age group who desire it," Doo said with a shrug. 

"Did--" Crys started.

"Don't say it." Waxer slapped a hand over Crys' mouth. 

Sifo-Dyas thought that he knew what Crys had wanted to ask. He was a tiny bit disappointed that Waxer had stopped him. That could have been terribly amusing.

"How do Mandalorians handle the matter?" Sifo-Dyas asked Ardanna. Since they were already talking about it, he might as well find out what the locals did.

"We hold to a significantly less formal process," Ardanna said after a searching look. "The _ad_ 's _buir_ explains the biology of reproduction, and when they are of age, the _ad_ can choose for themselves how to handle the situation. _Ad’e_ become legal adults after they undergo their _verd’goten_ at thirteen, though no one expects an _ad_ to completely become independent until their late teens, depending on species. Courting and choosing a spouse are often discouraged until the being in question has a few years life experience as an adult. Finding a mate is serious business for the _mando’ad’e_." A hint of a smirk lingered on her lips. "It is not uncommon for the friends of a _verd'buir_ to take their young _verd’ad_ to a pleasure house as encouragement when the _aliit_ unofficially deems them ready for such things, though that is significantly less common among the New Mandalorians."

So the _vod'e_ could expect their future to hold a trip to the brothels.

Sifo-Dyas repressed a grimace, though he couldn't stop the small shudder that raced up his spine. From the sour twist on Doo's mouth, he'd had the same reaction.

"You don't approve?" Ardanna's voice had gone icy cold.

"No offence is intended, Master Armourer," Sifo-Dyas said with a shake of his head. "Our reaction has nothing to do with your customs. It is just... Jedi are empaths, and those beings found working in the pleasure business have a higher risk of being there due to dire circumstances. Slavery is alive and well across the galaxy, and sometimes it is difficult to spot."

"The effects of empathy increase with physical touch," Doo added. 

Sifo-Dyas nodded. "If the _Mand'alor_ 's warriors do decide to take Ben to such a place when he comes of age, I must implore you to advise them to choose very wisely. A house of excellent reputation and healthy, happy employees. Otherwise they will just be sending Ben to a nightmare."

The Force around Ardanna still felt prickly and mildly offended, but there was an edge of understanding to it now. 

"Slavery is unforgivable to _mando'ad'e_. Maybe those Death Watch _hut'uun'e_ would turn a blind eye, but _Haat Mando'ad'e_ never would." She sniffed with disdain. 

Sifo-Dyas allowed himself to let out a breath of relief. He bowed his head in respect to her. "Forgive me my worries, Master Armourer. I meant no offence. I thought it better to give you warning and risk being boorish than to allow an unfortunate incident to occur born of ignorance."

That mollified her further. She nodded in return.

"We'll keep an eye out for him," Helix said promptly.

"You are all two years younger than Ben. Would you even be allowed to attend such a party?" Doo asked mildly.

Oh, but he did love riling them up, didn't he. Sifo-Dyas did not laugh. No matter how much he wanted to.

The _vod'e_ all looked outraged at the thought that Ben might be taken to an event that they couldn't go to.

"He wouldn't get the option," Waxer said dangerously. The rest of the _vod'e_ glowered and nodded along.

"If you're going, I want to go too," Obi-Wan said, bouncing in place. 

That statement very neatly dissipated any tension in the room as they all tried to imagine young Obi-Wan joining Ben at a brothel. 

"That, I'm afraid, you definitely will have to wait on," Sifo-Dyas said with a warm smile. "But don't worry. If you like, we can throw you a special dinner party on the same day, so you won't feel left out."

"Really?" Obi-Wan looked hopeful and excited.

"Really. Then you can share stories of what a fun time you had with your _vod'e_ and Ben the next day."

Obi-Wan grabbed ahold of Sifo-Dyas' arm and hung off of him like a lamprey, grinning ear to ear. "We should do that anyway, Master Sy."

"Should we now?" Sifo-Dyas asked archly. His amused smirk turned into a full blown smile. Force, but this child was filled with Light.

"Yup." Obi-Wan nodded. "'Nd have Master Kit, 'nd Master Mace, 'nd Master Plo show up. I wanna see if Master Mace can eat the Dark Side Meat, 'nd you need to talk to more people."

Sifo-Dyas blinked. 

Doo coughed delicately into his hand.

"I'm almost afraid to ask why," Sifo-Dyas muttered. 

"Because you need more friends," Obi-Wan said. The _duh_ was heavily implied. "I would'a said we should have Bant 'nd Garen 'nd Quinlan for dinner, but you prob'bly want adult friends."

The urge to lay his head on the work table was very difficult to ignore. Doo quietly laughing off to his side didn't help. Sifo-Dyas maintained his posture.

"I see that you have my social calendar all worked out," he said dryly.

"I'm really good at org'nizing troops," Obi-Wan said seriously.

The _vod'e_ all cackled. 

Sifo-Dyas allowed himself a smile before giving Obi-Wan a more serious look. "Remember what I said about pushing people to do things that they don't want to do?"

Obi-Wan nodded, but looked a bit worried. It was clear he wasn't sure where he'd messed up.

"Oh, you're fine, Obi-Wan," Sifo-Dyas assured him quickly, giving him a one armed hug. "There's nothing for you to be anxious about. It's just... many people find me uncomfortable to be around, and you are a very persuasive little Jedi. If the other masters don't wish to..."

He struggled for words for a moment. How to find a delicate way to say that he both frightened and disturbed people. Especially Jedi, who could feel when the Force decided to take his mind for a jaunt into the future. 

"There is no need to try and force the situation," he finally said, tempering the words with a smile.

Obi-Wan looked at him dubiously. The uncertainty quickly turned to jaw tight stubbornness. 

"I can ask, though. They could say no."

Sifo-Dyas held back a sigh. "Yes, this is true. You can ask. But. Try not to be disappointed if it doesn't work out, alright?"

"It'll be fine, Master Sy. You'll see." Obi-Wan patted him on the shoulder. 

Perhaps he was right. After all, both Plo and Kit had stopped by with Obi-Wan during that bout of vision-induced sickness. Both had been friendly enough. And Sifo-Dyas had just been considering seeing if Kit might be interested in a more friendly relationship. 

Doo's Force presence brushed up against his, enough that Sifo-Dyas knew that Doo was offering him support without the physical interaction that they couldn't risk in front of an audience. 

"Very well, then, Obi-Wan. Once we're back at the temple, we'll see if we can treat the other masters to some Mandalorian curry. I do require that you help me cook, since this is your idea." Sifo-Dyas raised an imperious eyebrow at him.

Obi-Wan giggled. "Yes, Master Sy."

"So, tell me, little one. How do you like the armoury?" Sifo-Dyas asked, switching to a safer subject.

"It's so big!" Obi-Wan's eyes got huge and he spread out his arms as if to demonstrate just how large the room was. 

"It needs to be," Ardanna said. "I supply many _verd'e_ and I have two apprentices. Wooley and Mira."

"You figured out what you want to wear when you get bigger, Cadet?" Wooley asked, gesturing at the armour stands along the walls.

Obi-Wan made a horrified face. "What? No. I can't wear armour. I'd fall over."

Sifo-Dyas covered his mouth with one hand to keep himself from outright laughing. The child was so serious, he didn't want to injure the little one's pride. Ardanna looked torn between amusement and irritation.

"None of us fall over, and we're in armour," Boil pointed out.

"But you're _vod'e_. You're way better than regular people." Obi-Wan said it like it was obvious. 

Given that Sifo-Dyas had the suspicion that the _vod'e_ were all clones, it was very possible that Obi-Wan was correct. They _could_ have been genetically modified to be better.

Helix opened his mouth like he wanted to object, but couldn't quite bring himself to. Similarly, the rest of the _vod'e_ looked pleased but also utterly baffled by being rated so well.

" _Mando'ad'e_ wear armour," Ardanna said reasonably.

"But." Obi-Wan cast a worried look at Sifo-Dyas and Doo. "But what if I get too heavy for the Force to lift me up?" he asked in a very small voice.

Sifo-Dyas pulled Obi-Wan up onto his lap. "Ahhh, little one," he said. "Weight doesn't matter. Size doesn't matter. There is only _will_ , and your connection to the Force."

"You saw Master Sifo-Dyas during our spar, yes?" Doo asked.

Obi-Wan nodded. "It was a-mazing!"

"He had no trouble with lifting all of those items with the Force, including himself. A little armour, if you truly wish to try some on, wouldn't be an insurmountable hurdle." Doo's expression went resigned. "Though I imagine we might have a more difficult time convincing Crèche Master Tinna and the rest of the High Council that an initiate in armour is an acceptable thing."

Sifo-Dyas grimaced and nodded. "It would likely be brought up at a Council meeting."

"Why?" Ardanna asked. "Is he not allowed to choose his own garb?"

Sifo-Dyas shrugged. "To a point, he is. All initiates wear the same things. It helps keep their focus on their studies and not on the material world. Some variation is allowed, to accommodate personal preference, physiology, and culture..." 

He thought that one through.

"You did argue that Obi-Wan is essentially Mandalorian," Doo pointed out in his _I am helping_ voice. 

"Did you?" Ardanna looked very surprised now.

"Is he not?" Sifo-Dyas asked, already knowing what the answer would be. "The _vod'e_ are his brothers. Ben is his family. A Jedi of the Order cannot truly swear to follow Mandalore, for no Jedi can place any one sector of the galaxy above another or above the Force, but that does not mean that this culture is not his."

Obi-Wan nodded furiously."The _vod'e_ are my brothers, all of them. My dreams told me so. We're _aliit_."

"We'd adopt you right now if we could, Cadet," Waxer said quietly. "But right now we're underage, so it wouldn't be binding."

Obi-Wan frowned. "But Ben..."

Waxer held up his hand. "No, we know. You and he share all. He is our _vod_ , and you are our _vod_. _Vod'e an, jet'ika_. But for now you need to stay with the Order, and Ben stays with us."

"If you need it, we'll come get you in a hot second, Cadet," Helix said firmly. "Everyone knows it too. We'd get _buir_ to adopt you, and the General to train you, and you'd stay here. But you want to be a Jedi, and Ben wants you to meet the people he knew and cared for."

"I'm supposed to be at the Temple," Obi-Wan said, sounding confused.

"Yes. But even if it's not official, you're still our _vod_ , and Master Sifo-Dyas is just trying to make sure that you can be that and stay at the Temple at the same time."

Since that was true enough, Sifo-Dyas didn't interject. The subject was more complicated than that, and a lot of it hinged on Obi-Wan's health and the content of the visions that they both were getting.

"They share all?" Ardanna raised an eyebrow at Waxer.

Waxer blushed. "Not like _riduur'e_ ," he said hastily. Sifo-Dyas wasn't sure what that word meant, but a lot of _Mando'a_ flew over his head at this point. "More like twins."

"Ah." That set her at ease. 

"In the end, if you truly wanted to wear armour, I might be able to convince the High Council to allow it, but it could be very difficult and there is a real chance that they would say no," Sifo-Dyas said to Obi-Wan. "Jedi are supposed to be peacekeepers, and how we dress reflects that."

Obi-Wan considered that. "Could I try it out 'nd then decide if I like it or not?" 

Ardanna beamed a smile at him.

Sifo-Dyas didn't have the heart to disappoint either of them. "Of course, Obi-Wan. I cannot promise that you'll be allowed to wear it in the Temple, but if you like it, you could wear it here."

"Come here, Cadet," Wooley said with a big grin. The rest of the _vod'e_ looked just as happy.

Obi-Wan wiggled out of Sifo-Dyas' hold and bounced over to Wooley.

"Over in that far cabinet," Ardanna said, pointing to one of the storage units on the far side of the room. 

The _vod'e_ all followed Wooley and Obi-Wan over to the other side of the room and cooed over the supplies they found there, while Ardanna stepped into one of the back rooms. 

Doo gave Sifo-Dyas a raised eyebrow, silently questioning the wisdom of this particular course of action. Sifo-Dyas just shrugged and shook his head. He had no idea if this was going to work out for good or for ill. It made them all happy, though, so why not.

His mind suddenly flooded with all the potential reasons why it might be a bad idea to shove an initiate into Mandalorian armour. Happily, none of them came with Force visions to reinforce them. Not that the lack of visions meant that this was guaranteed to turn out well; it simply meant that this wasn't likely to turn out badly. 

Besides, in the vast majority of Sifo-Dyas' visions of the future war, they were all wearing at least a little armour.

Force, he hoped those visions wouldn't come to pass.

By the time Ardanna had come back into the room with a small item in hand, Obi-Wan had been shoved into an adjustable chest plate, bracers, thigh plates, and a helmet. Crys was enthusiastically taking holos while Waxer and Boil looked like they might melt.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was wobbling back and forth like he was on a ship at sea.

"So wobbly," he said, with his head rocking back and forth. "Ahhhhhhh!"

The helmet sloshed around with his movement. Sifo-Dyas held a hand over his mouth and tried not to laugh.

"Let's tighten it up for you, Cadet," Wooley said, smiling broadly. He adjusted the chin strap on Obi-Wan's helmet until the sloshing turned into a snug fit.

" _Vod'e_ , how do you move!" Obi-Wan waddled around like an arctic bird. He moved each limb individually, carefully holding them away from his body so nothing would rub together.

"Cadet," Crys gasped in between bouts of laughter. "Cadet, just... just move normally."

Snickering filled up the room as Wooley kept adjusting the pieces. It became a game of chase as Obi-Wan tried to walk across the room, one over-compensating step at a time, and Wooley trailed after him, tugging his armour into place. 

"Can armour protect me from everything?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, but it can protect you from lots of things. It depends on the type of armour you have on, and what quality it is," Wooley answered, still fidgeting at the clasps on one of Obi-Wan's bracers.

"Does that mean I c'n jump off speeders and run into walls 'nd be alright?!" Obi-Wan jittered with excitement.

" _No_ ," the _vod'e_ said in unison.

"Awww," Obi-Wan pouted quietly and kicked the floor.

"The Force will protect you in such instances, Obi-Wan," Sifo-Dyas said.

That got him six identical hostile looks as the _vod'e_ all glared at him in outrage.

"Master Sifo-Dyas is correct," Doo said, coming to his support. "The Force is with us. Little things like speeders and buildings are just inconveniences, if you are skilled and focused."

"So I can jump off of speeders?!" 

Sifo-Dyas couldn't see Obi-Wan's expression under the helmet. He didn't need to. The little one's whole body was wound up with excitement.

"After you're knighted," Doo answered placidly. "We'll do it together."

"Free falling on Coruscant is a treasured passtime for masters and knights," Sifo-Dyas said with a nod. 

" _Force_ ," Obi-Wan breathed out.

"Since unsupervised trips can result in untimely deaths, you will not be attempting this sooner, or on your own," Sifo-Dyas said sternly. He chilled his Force presence and radiated the sense of _watching_ and _judging_ , just to make sure that his point was well made.

"Yes, Master Sy," Obi-Wan said dutifully. "I won't. I'll wait."

"Good." Sifo-Dyas let his Force presence warm up once again. 

" _Jetiise_ are all mad," Ardanna said, sounding supremely unimpressed.

Sifo-Dyas held up one hand towards her as if to say, _it is what it is_.

She shook her head at him and then held out the item in her hand to Obi-Wan. "Here you go, _jet'ika_. Your first blaster puzzle."

"Oooooo." Obi-Wan took it from her. "Thank you, armourer Ardanna." He gave her a small bow.

"Good job being polite, Obi-Wan," Sifo-Dyas said reflexively. He leaned forward to get a closer look at Obi-Wan's gift.

"How does it work?" Obi-Wan asked.

Ardanna took a knee next to him. "See this? These parts all lock together. Each part represents a different part of a blaster. You can put it together and take it apart to help you learn how to care for your weapons."

"This isn't a toy, is it?" Obi-Wan asked. His helmet tilted sideways as he considered the item.

Ardanna smiled widely at him. "No, it is not. No weapon is. It is a tool to help you learn. When you can take it apart and put it back together without any mishaps, then you get the next puzzle."

"Oh wow, thank you!" Obi-Wan started prying at the pieces.

As he investigated it, Sifo-Dyas stood up and walked over so that he could speak with Ardanna quietly. 

She gave him a withering look as he approached, no doubt expecting that he wouldn't approve of her gift.

"That was very kind of you. Thank you," Sifo-Dyas said.

Ardanna didn't dignify this with a response. She just waited and watched him coolly.

Sifo-Dyas forged on. "I do not know when we will next make it to Mandalore. Do you know where I can purchase the next several puzzles for him, so that we can continue his learning once he's home at the Temple?"

Her demeanor softened and she huffed out a short breath. "You surprise me, _jetii_."

"A Jedi's primary weapon is their lightsabre, but every initiate and padawan is trained in all manner of weapons. The galaxy is a terrible place at times, and versatility and knowledge can be the difference between life and death."

She gave him a long, thoughtful look. "I will have a package prepared for him before you leave."

"Thank you." Sifo-Dyas bowed to her. 

"Save your puzzle for after dinner, Cadet," Wooley advised with a laugh. 

Obi-Wan stopped prying it apart, but still hugged it to his chest. 

"How do you like the armour?" Boil said, poking at him.

"Feels weird."

"That'll fade with time," Helix said. The rest of the _vod'e_ nodded along. 

"Once you get a little bigger, I can make you something that fits you better," Wooley said.

The Force whispered in Sifo-Dyas' ear, softly at first and then loud enough to drown out the room around him. He tilted his head to try and make out the words. Or maybe see whatever was floating on the edge of his sight. 

Something about armour. _Beskar_ that glowed in the mind's eye, that hummed with a heart beat of its own.

He couldn't make out the details. They swirled around him, indistinct and uncoordinated. 

The vision shattered like transparisteel thrown off a cliff, and Sifo-Dyas was back in the armoury.

Doo was at his side with a hand on his shoulder.

"Master Sifo-Dyas?" he said quietly.

Sifo-Dyas blinked at him. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Ah. I'm fine. I'm fine." He shook his head. "It was nothing."

Doo didn't look convinced. 

"What did you see?" Crys asked.

Sifo-Dyas raised an eyebrow at him. He was saved from answering by Boil and Helix stepping close. 

Boil tentatively offered his canteen. "Drink, Master?"

Sifo-Dyas couldn't help but draw back in mild shock. Granted, Boil and the rest of the _vod'e_ had already shown that they at least had a mild vested interest in his well being. He still couldn't quite believe the ease with which they would offer these little kindnesses.

He hesitated a moment, and then took the canteen. "Thank you," he said, and then he took a short sip. 

It did help. The lukewarm water served as a focus to ground him in his body. He handed it back to Boil with a bow of his head.

"Mostly nonsense," Sifo-Dyas said. At the blank looks around him, he nodded towards Crys. "I saw mostly nonsense."

Helix looked personally offended. "The Force screws around with you and it doesn't even make sense? That's _osik_."

Sifo-Dyas shrugged. This sort of thing happened. "I'm sure it will make sense eventually. Although _where_ I'm going to find living armour, and on whom, I have no idea."

"Master Sy?" Obi-Wan had shuffled over and was pressed against Sifo-Dyas' leg. 

"I'm fine, little one. Nothing to be worried over." He rubbed the top of Obi-Wan's helmet, causing him to giggle. 

"Living, like how living?" Longshot asked. "Like the armour was a breathing being? Or just that it was sentient?"

Sifo-Dyas shrugged. "It had a heart beat and a Force presence."

Doo drew out a datapad and jotted the information down. "Anything else relevant?" 

Sifo-Dyas shook his head. 

As Doo finished typing up a quick summary, Helix was carefully looking Sifo-Dyas over.

"Why did this one not lay you out like the other one did?" he asked.

Sifo-Dyas hummed. It took him a moment longer than it should have to organize his thoughts. His head still felt like it was swimming. 

"Likely because it wasn't about the death of billions," Sifo-Dyas said philosophically. "Those always hit harder."

" _What_?" Ardanna asked, looking vaguely horrified.

Sifo-Dyas turned towards her and raised his eyebrows. "Did you think foresight was a kind gift?" The laugh that escaped him was perhaps a touch bitter and maybe a little unhinged. He swallowed it down and took a breath. 

_There is no chaos, there is harmony_.

When his serenity was restored, he smiled kindly at her. "Don't trouble yourself over it. The future is always in motion."

She gave him a wary look.

_And this is why people don't like to talk to me_. Sifo-Dyas refused to indulge in a resigned sigh.

"Is this armour for Obi-Wan to keep? Or does it live here?" Sifo-Dyas asked, changing the subject.

His wording must have been off, because the _vod'e_ were still giving him concerned looks. 

Ardanna shifted uneasily. "Let him try it for a few days," she said after a moment. "At least through one training session. After that, Wooley can speak to him about how it fits, and alternate pieces can be found, if needed."

"I see. Thank you, Armourer Ardanna," Sifo-Dyas said with a bow. "If you will forgive us, I think it is time for us to clean up for midmeal."

It was early for it. Sifo-Dyas didn't care. He'd made Ardanna uncomfortable, and her suspicions were palpable in the Force. 

"Of course, _jetii_." If she realized that it was an excuse, then she didn't draw any attention to it. "It was good to spend time with you, _verd'ika_ ," she said, sending a smile towards Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan bowed to her, and then nearly fell over trying to hold his helmet on even though it was buckled into place.

"Thank you, Armourer Ardanna!" he said as he wobbled around, one hand clutching his helmet and the other, his puzzle. 

Sifo-Dyas ushered him out, with the _vod'e_ trailing behind them. Doo's presence close at Sifo-Dyas' side was a Force blessed relief and went a long way towards keeping his frayed nerves in check.

\--


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another very short round of _vod'e_ sex gossip incoming! Beware!

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

He could and would freely admit that he was quite curious about the many ups and downs that he'd felt in the network over the course of the morning. The confusing series of emotions that had gone through his _vod'e_ during the council meeting -- while not as distracting as they once would've been -- had left him wondering just what his troopers were getting up to.

Sure, they'd _said_ they'd be visiting Ardanna with Obi-Wan and the Masters, but that didn't even _begin_ to explain the glee-embarrassment or the dismay-worry or the glee-adoration that he'd felt wash over him at intervals.

And then, when they'd shown up to join him, Cody, Jango and _buir_ for midmeal, they'd been down two _vod'e_.

"Where are Wooley and Helix?" Jango asked, once the suite's door had closed behind Waxer.

As the other three joined him in setting up the table for their noon meal, Waxer answered, "They needed to speak to Ardanna. They'll be rejoining us in a few minutes."

Hmm. Curious. Wooley speaking to Ardanna made perfect sense, but Helix? Had there been some injury or potential for one? No, if so, his troopers would've been far more stressed than they currently were.

Perhaps it was just their habit of always traveling in pairs or groups, Ben reasoned.

The door chimed, interrupting his musings, and Waxer went to open it with a half-formal nod to Cody.

Jango watched him go. "The kriff was that all about," he muttered at Waxer's retreating back.

"He'll tell us more after the meal if it's important, or before if it's urgent," Ben replied. "It doesn't seem to have been any kind of medical emergency."

His _buir_ nodded thoughtfully. "You're probably right," he conceded.

"Masters, Cadet," Waxer greeted their usual guests, and stood aside to allow them entrance.

Ben had to do a double take when he saw what Obi-Wan was wearing. Then shook his head with a rueful smile. "I should've expected that."

Ardanna and his _vod'e_ had somehow finagled permission to cram Obi-Wan into what seemed to be perhaps half a set of armour, and then obviously proceeded to deck him out in it. That had to be what had prompted the glee-adoration. 

Cody outright stared at the youngling for a moment in something approaching awe, before he managed to pull his usual mask of equanimity back on.

"Do you like your new armour, Cadet?" Cody asked him, badly hiding a smile. 

Helix and Wooley followed the trio in, looking and feeling mostly relaxed.

The little one obligingly took his bucket off and tried to tuck it under his arm for all that it was a bit too big for his arm to go around it, then frowned at it. "It's very weird, Cody. Hard to move in."

The Commander nodded seriously. "There are some directions it doesn't like to move in, because it's trying to protect your joints and muscles. It takes getting used to. We all had to learn that."

Obi-Wan nodded back, also quite serious. "Helix and Wooley said that, too."

"And they were right," Jango put in.

Master Dooku nudged at Master Sifo-Dyas, subtly turning him towards the table and its chairs. "I have no doubt of that," he said, "but perhaps we should continue the discussion as we eat. I rather suspect Obi-Wan is hungry."

Obi-Wan perked up at the mention of food. "Yes, c'n we eat now? Please?"

"Of course," his _buir_ agreed. "And you're going to tell us all about your adventures in the armoury, _jet'ika_."

"I can do that!"

On hearing Obi-Wan's enthusiastic agreement, Crys looked like he wasn't sure that was a good plan. Cody gave his wayward trooper a _look_ , clearly exasperated, and Longshot snickered.

Ben got the distinct feeling that this would be entertaining. "I'm certain you can, Obi-Wan," he agreed, and watched with amusement as the little one grabbed for Cody's hand to drag the Commander towards the table.

Obi-Wan proceeded to dictate what seating arrangements he could, leading to Master Sifo-Dyas being placed firmly between Obi-Wan and Master Dooku, with Cody on Obi-Wan's other side. Everyone else managed to pick their own seats by the time those four were settled.

Master Sifo-Dyas gave the impression of a man stunned by a blow to the head, his eyes a little bit distant and his posture suggesting he was utterly distracted, but once Master Dooku placed a plate of food in front of him, he regained some of his focus.

The table was quiet but for a few murmured requests for one thing or another, as they made sure everyone had something suitable to drink to go with their meals.

After a few minutes of companionable silence as they ate, his _buir_ prompted Obi-Wan to start telling his stories. "So, _ad'ika_?"

Obi-Wan looked up at him, then at Master Sifo-Dyas, and put his fork carefully on his plate, where it wouldn't make a mess. The move got him an approving smile and a nod in response. "Go on, Obi-Wan," the Master prompted him, setting loose what they all knew could easily become a torrent of excited words if it was allowed to.

"It's _huge_ , like a temple, but filled with armour," Obi-Wan opened, flinging his hands wide for emphasis and nearly hitting Master Sifo-Dyas' arm in his enthusiasm.

Ben, who'd not really thought about that before, seeing a space that had seemed mostly utilitarian despite its decorations, blinked, and considered that. It fit.

His _buir_ grinned. "It is, isn't it. And the murals on the walls are more than just decoration."

Obi-Wan's eyes got bigger. "They tell stories like the ones in the Temple do?" he asked, his voice going a bit quieter and reverent. "Wooley didn't know them."

"Ardanna does," Wooley pointed out, "like I told you, then, Cadet. You should ask her. She's more than just an armoursmith. She's a lorekeeper, as well."

Master Dooku nodded. "That could be an fascinating way to spend a morning's lessoning," he conceded, "if Obi-Wan is interested. What do you think, Master Sifo-Dyas?"

Master Sifo-Dyas, who still seemed a bit dazed, shrugged. "I see no reason why not," he answered, "assuming that the Master Armourer doesn't mind us invading her demesne again."

"I can ask her, if you want, Cadet," Wooley offered. "I'd like to hear those stories, myself."

"Sure! Thanks, Wooley!" Obi-Wan beamed at the _vod_ and got a bright smile in return. Waxer made a sound like he wanted to speak, but kept his silence.

"What else did you do?" Jango asked, amusement clear in his voice. "You had to get that armour somehow."

"Well, first Crys decided to ask Master Sy about body parts. I'm not sure why," Obi-Wan said seriously. "The answer made him feel kind of squirmy, too."

Cody raised an expressive eyebrow at Crys, who shrugged, radiating embarrassment in the network.

"I was curious," the _vod_ defended himself.

"... about body parts," Jango said slowly. "Do I want to know?"

Master Dooku's expression didn't change noticeably, but Ben was _convinced_ the Master was smirking as he answered, "Come now, it's basic biology. You must know this yourself already, given the Mandalorian emphasis on education."

That was a verbal snare, if ever Ben had seen one, and he could tell Jango knew it too, but it was just as much of a dare, so his _ori'vod_ responded, "Probably, but without knowing what body parts were under discussion I can't answer that, now, can I?"

Master Sifo-Dyas made an amused sound.

Master Dooku shook his head. "I doubt you do, or Crys would have asked you," he said, and Ben watched as Cody put his face in his hands in a rare, open display of his emotions.

" _Vod_ ," Cody put in without lifting his head, his tone of voice making Crys wince, "remember what I told you last rotation?"

Crys swallowed and nodded, squaring his shoulders like he was about to wade into battle. "Yes, Commander."

Master Dooku smirked openly, that time, visibly amused, and went on. "Now that that has been established," he murmured, getting Cody to meet his eyes and giving the Commander a knowing look, "the topic at hand was the reproductive habits of other species, specifically Nautolans, of which there are several at the Temple on Coruscant."

Jango stared, caught flat-footed, then shook off his surprise when his _buir_ started snickering. "Okay, I have to admit, I _don't_ know much about _that_. Why would you want to ask Master Dooku about-- about Nautolans, _vod'ika_?"

"Like I said: I was curious," Crys repeated. 

Ben bit down on a snicker of his own. No wonder Cody was rather exasperated with his trooper.

"And seeking knowledge about such things should be rewarded," Master Dooku said, outwardly agreeable. "A desire to know more about the galaxy is no bad thing, especially when it makes interactions with other species easier to understand."

Helix raised an eyebrow at him. "That's some very effective spin," he said dryly.

Their _buir_ chuckled. "Maybe so, _ad_ , but it's true."

Ben had to agree, and he could tell the other two masters did, as well. Master Dooku gave them a nod, acknowledging the point. "Crys is also hardly the first to be curious about such matters. It's quite a popular topic among certain age groups at the Temple," Dooku replied.

One thing Master Qui-Gon had often complained about -- when he'd mentioned his own master at all -- was the man's tendency to lead people in conversational circles for his own amusement. What he hadn't said was that it was karking hilarious to watch.

When the _Mand'alor_ turned to Master Dooku, though, a speculative expression on his face, Ben wanted to grin. Oh, this would be interesting.

"Well?" His _buir_ asked tersely.

"Well what?" Master Dooku responded, a hint of a challenge in his voice that forced Ben to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Their _buir_ didn't hesitate to answer in kind. "Well, how does it work, then?" 

"Really, _buir_?" Cody blurted out.

"Oh good, one of you has some sense of decorum," Jango muttered.

" _Ad_ , are you trying to say you don't want to know?" The _Mand'alor_ gave him a look that said he thought Jango's priorities were out of order, making Helix snicker.

Giving their _buir_ a glare, Jango retorted, "I'm saying, now is not the time."

"You started the discussion," Helix pointed out, chiming in.

"To be fair," Waxer countered, "Crys did. _Ori'vod_ probably thought we'd be asking about, I don't know, one of those species with fins instead of feet."

Master Sifo-Dyas gave him a polite smile. "If you're interested in such, we can point you in the direction of some appropriate reference texts, Waxer."

"To get back to the original topic, though, _Mand'alor_ ," Master Dooku picked up the thread so seamlessly that Ben considered taking notes, "were you inquiring about the required body parts or the mechanics of intercourse with a Nautolan?"

_Well. Here we go._ Ben knew there was no stopping this particular conversational speeder wreck from happening, anymore, and Force help him but he wanted to watch. Jango knew it too, judging by his quiet, pained sigh.

"Either," their _buir_ answered Master Dooku after a moment's thought.

"I can't believe this is happening," Longshot muttered to Boil in an undertone.

Master Sifo-Dyas smirked at them as Master Dooku went on, "Pursuant to our earlier discussion, Crys and his brothers can tell you about the physical attributes, so I shall leave that to them. As to the mechanics... well. You're familiar with what's needed to facilitate intercourse with another human man?"

Ben watched his _buir_ process that, surprise, amusement, and then speculation colouring his Force signature. After a moment, his _buir_ asked, "Are you implying that it's the same with Nautolans?"

It took Ben quite a lot of self-control not to answer that, himself, but he wanted to see what Master Dooku would do.

With a nonchalant shrug, Master Sifo-Dyas replied instead, "Neither of us has ever tried it, so we can't speak from experience, _Mand'alor_ , but from what we've been told, it's a quite similar experience, yes."

"Huh." There was a brief pause, almost a hesitation, while his _buir_ considered whether to voice his next comment. Then, he added, "So Nautolans need lube and prep if they want to have sex while they're on dry land?"

The looks on his troopers' faces were fantastic. In the network, all Ben could feel from most of them was a gratifying mix of awe-chagrin-embarrassment-glee. Helix added interest and professional curiosity and Cody utter resignation.

Master Dooku nodded. "They do."

Master Sifo-Dyas chimed in, "Just about all beings need lube. Even those that spray their seed onto eggs laid by their partner still need to be hydrated to do so. Water is an essential part of the reproductive process for nearly every species in the galaxy, barring those that reproduce asexually."

"There are species that do, I've heard," the _Mand'alor_ replied, not giving a span in the face of that kind of answer. "But I've never yet met one in all my travels."

Jango groaned, putting his head in his hands like Cody had earlier and muttering indistinct imprecations under his breath. He raised his voice to say, " _Buir. Buir_ , stop."

Obi-Wan giggled at him.

"What's wrong, _ori'vod_ ," Ben asked, unable to resist the temptation to fling a bit of fuel onto the fire any longer, "you don't like biology?"

"You're far more reserved about this particular topic than your father or brothers," Master Dooku observed. "Does it make you uncomfortable to discuss?"

"No, it's fine," Jango managed to get out, clearing his throat, "I'm just more interested in hearing about the rest of Obi-Wan's time in the armoury."

_Nice save,_ ori'vod. _You've been marked, now, though._

Ben made a note to make sure Jango's sabacc face improved. Showing a weakness like that to someone like Master Dooku was just... either foolishly trusting or entirely unacceptable, depending on the precise circumstances. Not everyone would be as forgiving as his grandmaster.

"Oh!" The little one said, diverted, "Right! I didn't finish telling you about that!"

"Then that is what you should do, Obi-Wan," Master Sifo-Dyas told him, encouraging him to ramble and letting Jango off the hook, "one must always finish the stories one starts telling."

"Yes, Master Sy," he said with a bright grin, and launched back into his tale, talking about how there was almost a fire, how his _vod'e_ made sure the fire didn't happen, how Master Sifo-Dyas had a small vision and almost got sick again but was also fine, which was great, good job, Master Sy -- all of the _vod'e_ smiled, charmed, when he said that and patted Master Sifo-Dyas' arm in an attempt to congratulate him -- and then Wooley and the _vod'e_ helped him put on some armour, and Armourer Ardanna said he could keep it for a few days and it was cool but made moving really hard.

"Perhaps," Ben suggested when the little one finally ran out of things to gush about, "for your training you should stick to simple drills, Obi-Wan. Learn how to move in your new armour."

With a nod, Master Sifo-Dyas added, "There's merit in that suggestion."

Helix eyed the Master a bit skeptically, as though trying to assess his health from a distance. "You're looking a lot better now that you've eaten, but are you up to 'sabre training, Master Sifo-Dyas?"

"Master Dooku can certainly take over, if not. Don't worry, youngling. I know my limits quite well."

"I can, and I will, if you are feeling fatigued," Master Dooku agreed immediately. "But perhaps afterwards Ben and I can discuss that new Form he's created, as we had intended to do, so long ago."

"If we do," Ben countered, "I'd have to insist that Master Sifo-Dyas join us. I'd very much like to know more about those techniques he displayed when the two of you sparred in the training yard."

"That can be arranged, I'm sure," Master Dooku agreed. Master Sifo-Dyas looked surprised and pleased, as though he'd never have expected that, but was only too happy to share his own tips. Ben suspected that he often got overlooked, in that respect, given Master Dooku's much flashier swordsmanship and the general lack of training rooms at the Temple that could be abused without major consequences the way the training yard could.

"It surely can," Master Sifo-Dyas agreed.

" _Vod'e_?" Ben asked, "Will you join us?"

"Is the Cadet going to try to make us learn swordsmanship again?" Wooley countered, his tone making it clear that he'd join in regardless of the answer.

Obi-Wan straightened in his seat. "Lightsabres are awesome," he declared solemnly, "and you should learn it so you c'n spar with me."

Ben felt the wave of resignation that went through the network as his _vod'e_ thought that over, realised that they _did_ want to spar with their Cadet once he was big enough, and gave in with a silent sigh.

"I guess you have a point, Cadet," Cody said, and got a bright happy smile in response.

"This is goin'ta be _great_!"

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Ben must have had an inkling as to how young Obi-Wan's training would go, since he'd suggested the simple drills to start. 

Yan watched as the little one got more and more frustrated with the constrictions of his new armour. He and Sy exchanged a look, and then mutually and silently decided to let Obi-Wan wrestle with this problem independently before stepping in.

Obi-Wan's movements got sharper and more uncoordinated as he struggled with his temper. Finally, he let out a rough sob, pulled off his helmet, and tugged at his chest plate.

"I can't _move!_ It won't-- Argh!" 

He sat down on the ground with a soft thump and started bawling his eyes out.

While Yan sympathized, he was delighted and relieved that Sy took over the instruction through this episode. Dealing with crying children was not a skill that Yan was well versed in.

Sy sat down in front of Obi-Wan, crossing his legs and resting his forearms on his knees. He held his palms up, waiting to catch Obi-Wan's attention. It only took a few seconds of tearful wailing for Obi-Wan to see Sy in front of him, and then he put his hands in Sy's. The tears were still coming, as were the cries of distress, but they'd quieted a bit.

The _vod'e_ had stopped moving the moment that Obi-Wan started his temper tantrum, and now they were milling around, clearly unsure if they should intervene or not. 

"Take a deep breath with me," Sy said, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the sobbing.

Obi-Wan took a gulp, which came out in a shuddering hiccup. 

"There we go. Another." Sy breathed in slowly and Obi-Wan followed suit. They breathed together until the wails disappeared and Obi-Wan was mostly calm. It took a shockingly short amount of time.

Tears still slowly trickled down Obi-Wan's cheeks and he looked miserable, but he had control of himself.

"Good," Sy said with a soft smile. "You did a good job calming yourself down. Now can you tell me what got you so upset?"

Obi-Wan's face crumpled. "I, I, I can't move right 'n the armour, 'nd I'm _trying_ , I am!"

"I know. You're doing well. Take another breath with me." 

Sy and Obi-Wan breathed together in and out.

Since Sy had the youngling handled, Yan took this opportunity to watch Ben and the _vod'e_. It was difficult to gauge their reactions; they were all heavily shielded and their helms were on. Their body language was interesting. Ben was still but attentive, while the _vod'e_ betrayed more signs of anxiety.

Yan remembered that Sy had made a point to say that he would handle corrections. Perhaps they were worried about possible punishment.

"So your armour isn't letting you move how you want to?" Sy asked. 

Obi-Wan nodded.

Sy hummed. "You also lost your temper."

Obi-Wan nodded again, this time wilting with guilt.

"I lose my temper sometimes, too, you know." When Obi-Wan looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes, Sy smiled. "It's true. Everyone does. Anger and frustration are a part of us. It is impossible to avoid them completely. I saw that even though you did lose your temper, you didn't hit anyone. You didn't throw anything. You didn't even run off. That was very good. It was still upsetting though, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Obi-Wan said dejectedly. "I just. I really w'nt t' make it work, 'cause it's so impor-tant t' my _vod'e_."

"I know." Sy shifted in place, clearly taking a moment to figure out how to answer that. Yan was impressed so far. He would have just ordered the child to the sidelines to cry his temper out and then set him back to work on drills.

There was a very good reason he didn't accept padawans before they'd hit the correct age.

"You were getting frustrated with your movement," Sy said. "I want you to remember how that felt. That sensation of building upset." He gestured towards his chest, and tensed up as if he were getting as distressed as Obi-Wan had been. "Remember that feeling so that you can notice when it happens in the future. When you feel it, stop what you're doing, take a breath, and release that feeling into the Force. Don’t hold it inside where it can fester and boil over. Then if you need to, ask for help. It's alright to ask for help. Master Dooku and I are here to help you be successful; we want you to learn and do well. Even back at the Temple, if I’m not around then Master Drallig will be willing to help if you need it, as will Master Windu, when he joins you for your 'sabre practice." Sy winked at Obi-Wan in a teasing reminder of how the little one had conned Mace into teaching classes. 

"They won't get mad? Or flunk me out?" Obi-Wan asked very quietly.

"No. No one will be mad. And if any Jedi Master loses their temper at you, or treats you poorly, you can come find me and I will deal with it. Or Master Dooku, if you think he would be better."

"I am very terrifying," Yan said with a dry smirk. "All know this."

Obi-Wan giggled weakly and scrubbed at his eyes.

"So, now that that issue is dealt with, you said your armour wasn't letting you move." Sy pressed his lips together and looked Obi-Wan over. "Can you show me which piece?"

"This." Obi-Wan pointed to his chest plate, and pulled at the edges. "It rubs my arms weird and it doesn't bend right."

Sy leaned in to look at the offending piece.

"Wooley? Ben? Would you two help us see what we can do about this?"

In a flash, both of them were there kneeling at Obi-Wan's side.

"Yeah, it came loose," Wooley muttered. He fiddled with the straps of the chest plate as Obi-Wan sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

"Ben, is your chest plate similar to this one?" Sy asked.

Ben peered at Obi-Wan's armour, and shook his head. "Mine is more flexible, but his covers a smaller area. It _should_ be alright for the drills that he's doing, but it could be awkward. Tumbling will feel odd. I had to have my armour adjusted several times before we found something that worked for me."

"See?" Sy said, nudging Obi-Wan's knee. "Maybe it's not the right piece." He hesitated a moment, and then said, "And if armour doesn't feel right for you, no one will make you wear it. Your _vod'e_ won't be mad at you, or treat you any differently. They just want you to be safe and happy."

"He's right, Cadet," Wooley said. He rubbed Obi-Wan's back in small, comforting circles. "We just worry, is all."

"But I keep dreaming of us all fighting, like really big fighting! With lots'a _vod'e_ 'nd other Jedi. I've always got _some_ kinda armour, but I, I, keep… gettin' hurt 'nyways." The tears picked up again as Obi-Wan's face crumpled in distress.

"Ahh, shhh, it'll be alright." Wooley pulled Obi-Wan into a hug.

The rest of the _vod'e_ clustered closer, and Ben put his hand on Obi-Wan's back. 

"Break time, I think," Sy said after a minute or so. "Obi-Wan, how about you and your _vod'e_ take a seat on the side of the yard for a bit and practice your breathing."

"Yes, please, Master Sy," Obi-Wan said haltingly. 

Sy nodded. "We'll pick up more drills later. Just rest and find your balance."

The _vod'e_ hustled Obi-Wan off the field, with Crys grabbing Obi-Wan's forgotten helmet and taking it with. Sy stood up and dusted off his pants.

"Well played, Master Sifo-Dyas," Yan murmured to him, stepping in close enough to be heard but still not quite touching. 

Sy gave him a wide eyed and mildly relieved look. 

"Master Dooku," Ben said, standing up as well. "Since Obi-Wan is otherwise occupied, shall we go over the blaster form?"

"Excellent idea," Yan said. He looked over to where the _vod'e_ were all sitting clustered around Obi-Wan. "Master Sifo-Dyas, would you be so kind as to supply the opposing fire?"

"Ohh, is this the blasterfire defence I've heard so much about?" Sy asked. "Since the troopers are busy with Obi-Wan, I'd be delighted to shoot at you. Though I'd need blasters."

He waved both hands to display his lack of appropriate weaponry. 

" _Vod'e_ ," Ben called out. "May we borrow two blasters?"

Without question or even a moment of hesitation, Cody and Waxer unholstered their primary weapons and tossed them across the yard to Ben, who plucked them out of the air with ease. Yan couldn't be sure, given where Ben's helmet was pointed, but it looked like Ben hadn't even bothered to glance over to make the catch.

He held both weapons out to Sy by their barrels, the grips extended towards him.

"Ah. Thank you." Sy took both weapons, stepped back, and looked them over. 

It was the standard inspection that any seasoned fighter would do. Sy was a High Councilor, but Yan knew that he never took his skills for granted. He trained as much as any active Knight to keep in fighting trim. That meant working with blasters and vibroknives as well as 'sabres.

Sy looked up at Yan and raised one eyebrow very slightly. Yan held back a grin. He knew what was coming. 

"Very nice blasters," Sy said casually. He started spinning one as if he were a Corellian smuggler. Then he joined in with the other, switching directions so the blasters spun in counterpoint to one another, then sideways, one palm up and the other palm down. He tossed them both into the air to spin three times around and then caught them, ready to fire. The muzzles were pointed politely away from anyone, and his fingers off the triggers, but his readiness was apparent. 

Ben huffed in amusement and Yan grinned. 

"Having fun?" Yan said.

"Always," Sy replied. "Besides, it's educational for the initiate."

"Keep being educational like that and we may lose him to the Mandalorians permanently," Yan joked.

"Lightsabres are far superior," Sy said dryly, as if he didn't know that Yan wasn't thinking the exact same thing.

"A more elegant weapon, to be sure," Ben agreed. He took his 'sabre hilt in hand and stepped back. "We've already done the basic drill together, though it was some weeks ago. Master Sifo-Dyas, if you would fire at me, slowly at first, I will demonstrate the basic movements again. Then Master Dooku and I will switch places so he can try it."

Yan and Sy both nodded and stepped back, Sy to get into position and Yan to watch out of the way.

Just as Ben had done the first time they'd tried this, he explained the rules again to Sy before they started.

"This is the starting ready position, and signals those firing to start and stop. Master Sifo-Dyas, if you would, begin firing one shot at a time at a slow, even rate."

Ben held his blade up vertically in front of him, and Sy started shooting. Each bolt was fired in time with Yan's resting heart rate, as steady as a sand chrono. 

Yan watched Ben very closely. The parries and blocks were similar to Soresu, with elements of Djem So. He could see where Ben had modified the movements to be more efficient. The effect was subtle right now, but Yan knew it would become more obvious if Ben were under fire from a group.

After a couple of minutes at this pace, Sy started firing at double time. Each bolt was carefully redirected with casual grace to the ground in front of Ben.

"Have you attempted this with projectiles?" Yan asked. He knew that Ben had enough skill and focus to answer him despite his work with the blade.

"No. The angle of the blade wouldn't redirect a slug or a flung object," Ben answered easily. 

Yan nodded. Slug weapons were terrible for Jedi. The metal superheated and splattered upon contact with a lightsabre blade. The momentum of the shot carried through a direct block, spraying the Jedi with molten metal. In order to properly deflect such an attack, Ben would need to alter his movements, redirecting the kinetic energy of the slug rather than attempting to ricochet it like an energy bolt.

"Something to consider, then," Yan said after a moment's thought. 

A few more minutes went by, and then Ben went back to his ready position. Sy halted his firing.

"I'm going to smell like blasterfire after this," Sy said with a laugh. "What would my fellow Councilors think? Blaster fire and armoured initiates." He shook his head.

"I'm sure you'll be able to talk them around." Yan smirked at him. Sy must be having a good time, to feel comfortable enough to tease a bit. 

"It's good for them," Ben said. 

"Agreed." Yan nodded. 

"You ready for me to shoot at you, Master Dooku?" Sy asked, spinning the blasters again. 

"My, my, eager aren't we?" Yan said, amused. They were teasing each other perhaps more than they should in public, but nothing they'd said would be out of place for two close friends. 

Ben and Yan exchanged places and Yan pulled both of his lightsabre hilts out. 

"How often do I get a chance to do something like this with you?"

_Not nearly enough_ , Yan thought to himself. He kept that sentiment under wraps, and instead said, "My dear High Councilor, we could make an event of it. Perhaps convince the other Councilors to join us?"

He didn't not _quite_ want to imply that Sy would happily try shooting them in the head from time to time, but Sy would get his meaning.

"Perhaps Master Fisto?" Sy asked with an arched eyebrow, neatly reminding him of their earlier mental conversation. 

"We could make sure that he had an enjoyable time dodging blasterfire," Yan said, dry as a desert. 

Sy's eyes twinkled and his amusement was plain in the Force. "Of course."

"Quit flirting and shoot him!" one of the _verd'e_ watching from the sidelines yelled out. He was promptly hit by both of his friends standing next to him, one getting him in the back of the head and the other slamming a fist into his shoulder.

Sy laughed as Yan cast his eyes skyward in exasperation. 

Perhaps he and Sy were being a touch less restrained than they normally were. Ah, well. At least they weren't at the Temple, where gossip could reach places that would actually cause them trouble. 

Sy readied his blasters at the same moment Yan lit his 'sabres and brought them up to a guard position. With two blades, he couldn't use the standard Shii-Cho starting guard that Ben had used. He started with the Jar'kai equivalent, one blade forward, one to the side and slightly behind. 

They started slow, with Sy giving him the kindness of extra time to acclimate to doing the form with two blades instead of just one. Yan started parrying with his right blade, then alternated. 

This type of predictive fighting was standard fare for any Jedi Knight. They were all trained from the time they could hold a training 'sabre to move to block blaster bolts before the shot was even fired. Yan fed more of his focus into the Force. To do what Ben could do, he would have to be better. 

As if sensing his readiness, Sy picked up the pace. The hum of Yan's 'sabres resonated in his bones as the world narrowed to the deep blue of his blades and the bright electric blue of the blaster bolts. 

The Force screamed a warning, and without thinking Yan moved a blade to block a shot from behind. Ben was there, two blasters in hand, firing along with Sy. He had his helmet on, but Yan could feel him grinning in the Force.

"Ahh, so it's like that," Yan said with a laugh. He picked up his defense, now working doubletime to block and redirect strikes from two sides. 

"Might as well make it fun," Ben answered impishly. 

Even though what they were doing was technically adversarial, Yan could feel the other two Masters in the Force. The three of them stretched out their senses as the spar progressed. It was almost indescribable. It felt like they were all running side-by-side, with arms outstretched and fingers barely touching. 

Yan could feel the momentum of the drill start to slip away from him. Sy and Ben were firing quickly now, moving around him at random intervals. He was barely keeping pace with them, though the effort was exhilarating. 

_A little more. I can hold out for a little more_.

Yan thought that he might be grinning, but he couldn't be sure. 

When he finally felt his ability to keep up truly begin to slither away, Yan went back to his guard position. Better to halt now than risk a stray bolt to himself or anyone standing near him.

Sy and Ben stopped immediately, likely sensing his intention the instant he made the decision. 

Sweat trailed down Yan's forehead and he saluted them both. The few _verd'e_ that had gathered along the side of the training yard clapped and whistled. Yan saluted them with a single blade as well, just for the fun of it.

Sy grinned at him, and gave his blasters another spin, followed by a very dramatic exhale at the barrels, blowing imaginary steam away from the end.

"You don't get to be smug if you didn't actually hit me, Master Sifo-Dyas," Yan said mock-sternly. 

"I am a Jedi High Councilor. I can be smug whenever I like," Sy answered primly. 

Yan snorted in amusement, and they all made their way towards the side of the yard where Obi-Wan and the _vod'e_ were seated.

"You know, I've never considered it before now, but I wonder if I could do the opposite of what you're doing with this drill," Sy said casually, the moment they stepped close enough for quiet conversation.

"What do you mean?" Ben asked.

Sy waved a hand. "Just a thought. You asked me once about how I predict attacks during sparring, like I did with Master Dooku. That is just a more involved version of what you do with this blaster drill…"

"Right…" Ben clearly didn't see where Sy was going with this. Yan had to agree, but he was well aware that Sy would get to the point whenever it came to him. Sometimes that took a bit of circular reasoning. 

"It's just…" Sy absently spun the blasters, and Yan could feel his mild pleasure at the activity. "I can shoot accurately with both hands, and I can lean into the Force to predict an enemy's attacks on a limited basis. Why not do that with blasters? Every knight does to a limited extent when they learn how to shoot. But is there an advanced version of that?"

"What would that even look like?" Cody asked.

Sy startled in place, as if he'd forgotten that they were walking somewhere specific and hadn't realized that anyone was actually listening to him. That wasn't unlikely, in Yan's experience. The Force whispered to Sy powerfully, even when he wasn't in the middle of a vision.

"What?" Sy asked, blinking.

"Predictive shooting with blasters. An advanced form," Cody prompted. The rest of the _vod'e_ were all watching and listening with a great deal of focus and Obi-Wan was wide eyed and interested. 

"Oh. Right. Just something I'll have to think on." Sy gestured dismissively with one of the blasters, though he was careful not to point the barrel at anyone or anything. "Probably wouldn't work for a single combatant. Maybe a group Jedi Masters, mentally linked, all firing together…"

He shook his head. "The idea hasn't fully formed."

Ben tilted his head as if in thought. "You'd have to get a group of Jedi to agree to use blasters."

"Or _vod'e_ ," Obi-Wan piped up.

The _vod'e_ all looked at him sharply. Most of them still had their helmets on, but Waxer and Boil had taken theirs off; alarm was visible on their faces.

Yan knew that three of the brothers were mildly Force sensitive. He'd tested them himself, after all. And he'd kept his promise not to mention that fact to anyone else. It stood to reason that the rest of them had similar abilities, now that their surgeries were done. Yan had never asked them for details; they would tell him if they trusted him enough to know.

Sy wouldn't know any of that. 

Clearly, the _vod'e_ were more than a bit concerned with Obi-Wan's insinuation. Cody and Ben's attention was solely on Sy. There was a distinctly calculating weight to their gaze. Waxer and Boil looked up at Sy like he might suddenly decide to execute them, no doubt concerned about possible reactions from the rest of the High Council, once they heard about those abilities -- or the potential rumours that might spread among the Mandalorians, who were notoriously wary of and often hostile to any and all Force users.

For his part, Sy looked oblivious to their reactions. He waved a hand again and shrugged. "Whoever. The potential defense holds the same flaws as battle meditation. There would be numerous kinks to work out, and the trust and skill involved would need to be impeccable. Since the lightsabre form relies on defense, the question for a blaster version immediately becomes, 'what to do if the individual or group practicing is under heavy fire?'" 

"Perhaps a 'sabre and blaster combination?" Yan suggested. 

Sy stared off into nothing, frowning and humming over the idea.

"No. Yes. Maybe, but no, not for this… here…" Sy shook his head. "Ben, stand back twenty paces or so and shoot at me. Once, to start, please."

Without waiting for a response, Sy walked back onto the field. 

Ben glanced at Yan. Yan shrugged. He had no idea what Sy was up to.

"Helmets on, younglings," Yan said quietly. He didn't _think_ that anything would go awry, but better safe than sorry.

Waxer and Boil scrambled to comply while Wooley helped Obi-Wan with his. 

Ben got into position and pointed a blaster at Sy. "Ready, Master Sifo-Dyas?"

Sy spun his blasters again, for the life of him looking distracted as all hells. "Go ahead."

Ben shot. 

Yan felt the Force twist around Sy and the yard in front of him. 

The blaster bolt _froze_ , halfway between Sy and Ben. It shivered like a streak of captured lightning, jittering in the air.

" _Kriff_ ," Boil breathed out. For once, no one admonished him for the lapse. 

"Again, Ben," Sy demanded. 

Ben fired, and a second bolt hung in the air next to the first. The streaks of blue energy edged forward and back, like a pair of beasts straining at their leashes. The training yard was deathly silent.

Sy stepped towards the bolts, circling them like he was looking at a fine sculpture. 

Yan couldn't help but step forward himself, though it was more out of concern for Sy than for what was happening. He wasn't _worried_. Not yet. He was just being… cautious.

"Is it difficult?" he asked. 

"Hmmm, yes and no," Sy answered. "It requires fine control. Very fine. Hold this." He shoved one of the blasters towards Yan, who took it without question.

Then he stretched out a hand, just inches away from the bolt.

"Sy…" Yan said quietly. 

Today was not a good day to be doing this. Sy'd had not one, but two visions this morning. His focus was more in the Force than it was in his physical body. Even if his visions hadn't left him hurting, he should still be tired. Playing with new techniques that required immense control was not a wise or safe thing to do.

"Can you see it, Doo?" Sy said very softly. "The way the bolt is held together?"

Yan certainly could not. He put a hand on Sy's shoulder. "You'll need to explain it to me later. For now, you should let them go. Obi-Wan is surely eager to sit with you for a while, and I've yet to drill Ben in his Jar'kai today."

Sy stepped back and dropped his hand. The bolts flew into motion, striking the far wall harmlessly. 

"There's _something here_ ," he said under his breath. "Something I need to know, or see, or do, and I can't quite place it."

Yan squeezed Sy's shoulder and steered him towards where the _vod'e_ were sitting, awestruck. 

"It will come to you, Master Sifo-Dyas," Yan said soothingly. "Sit and watch Ben and I run some drills while you think it over."

"That was _amazing_!" Obi-Wan said as soon as they were in range. "Master Sy, Master Sy! That was great!"

Sy blinked a couple times and then finally dragged his attention back to the real world. He smiled a bit. "Thank you, Obi-Wan."

He handed the blaster he still held to Cody, who took it with a respectful nod, while Yan did the same with Waxer's and Ben handed back the other two blasters he had borrowed. 

Sy sat down without any more prompting and Obi-Wan quickly crawled into his lap. While the two of them were sorting out a comfortable position, Yan locked eyes with Helix and very minutely nodded towards Sy. Helix gave the tiniest of nods back. 

Good. The young medic would keep a quiet eye on Sy while he was resting. A bit of the tension in Yan's chest uncoiled.

"Have some water, Master Sifo-Dyas," Helix said, offering his canteen. 

Sy brightened with pleased surprise. "Oh. Thank you."

Yan took a slow breath and turned to Ben. Time to work out some anxiety with lightsabres.

\--

\--- POV: Wooley Mereel ---

Watching the _jetiise_ train in blaster practice had been weirdly hypnotic and the rhythm of it had quickly had him falling into something like the state that _vod'e_ used during their flash training courses. Quiet, still, and open, just taking _everything_ in to sort through later, when he had time to pick it all apart.

He'd felt more than just hints of the way the Force was swirling around all three of the masters. It had felt like ocean currents, difficult to read unless you'd spent time getting to know them and how they behaved.

It had told him where each shot would come from and where it would be aimed, and it had done so before each shot was even fired. Reliably.

Kark, but that had been eerie. Like feeling someone else make a battle plan for him, in his own head, and then feeling his own hands execute it.

Was that why Kenobi insisted he never needed to plan anything? Wooley suspected it might be.

Then there was the insane idea of somehow using blasters to block incoming fire. That discussion had been an odd one, but it really wasn't something he would've put past a _jetii_ to come up with and find a way to pull off. Knowing him, Kenobi might try to work out how to do it. Their General was endlessly curious about things that might be useful to his _Vod'e_.

Master Sifo-Dyas' experiment with the blaster bolts had caught him completely off-guard, though. Seeing them hang in the air like that, stopped in their paths, had made his eyes go wide. Wooley'd been able to _feel_ the surgical precision that the Master had been using to hold onto the pair of bolts, though he hadn't _quite_ been able to see how he'd done it.

He made a note to ask General Kenobi the next time they did a meditation or a lesson. Maybe Kenobi would be able to give him some kind of insight into what the _kriff_ had just happened.

"Wooley?" Obi-Wan broke into his thoughts.

"Yeah, Cadet?" He shook his head a little to clear it.

"We should practice 'sabres when Master Doo and Ben are finished!"

Helix chuckled. "I think maybe we should save that for next rotation, little one. Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas are both likely quite tired, and so are we."

That was a bit of a white lie and very strategically aimed to let him stick close to Master Sifo-Dyas, as Dooku had requested, to keep an eye on the clearly tired _jetii_. The _di'kut_ \-- who'd had two visions already earlier that day, and then done... whatever that had just been, in addition to doing the drills with Kenobi -- had about as much idea of what the word 'limits' meant as their General did. 

"But--"

Wooley shook his head and backed up their medic. "First, we all need to rest up, Cadet," he interrupted firmly. "We don't want to be so tired that we make mistakes, do we?"

"Well, I guess not," Obi-Wan agreed with a pout, then brightened again. "But we could practice without the 'sabres, too!"

Master Sifo-Dyas nodded absently, his eyes locked on the pair of masters still in the centre of the training yard and their flashing blades. "That's true," he agreed, obviously on autopilot. "Things like stances and katas could be done without a lightsabre."

"See!" Obi-Wan picked up the notion with renewed enthusiasm. "Come on, _vod'e_ , please? You said you would."

Wooley felt himself waver, and was grateful when Commander Cody stepped in. "Next rotation, Cadet," he reiterated. "When all of us are fresh and prepared for it. And taking advantage of your master's distraction is cheating, you know. Just like in card games, you should only do that kind of thing if it's _very_ important or might save someone's life."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "Learning how to use a 'sabre might save your life," he pointed out.

The Commander visibly floundered for a moment, unsure how to answer that because the Cadet legitimately had a point, there, and Wooley heard Waxer snicker. After a moment, Cody said, "True, Cadet, but that's only a 'maybe'."

Wooley was kind of thankful that whatever drills General Kenobi and Master Dooku were doing were finished right about then. The pair of them deactivated their 'sabres and walked over.

"Youngling," Master Dooku rumbled, "did I overhear some planning?"

Wooley had to fight not to snicker at the hearts in Master Sifo-Dyas' eyes as he looked up at the imposing _jetii_.

"Kind'a, Master Doo," Obi-Wan answered. "But my _vod'e_ are arguin' with me."

"Oh?" Dooku prompted him to go on.

"Well, they said they'd learn 'sabre so that they could spar with me, but now they keep tryin' to post-pos-- put it off," Obi-Wan explained, a stubborn set to his jaw.

"We'd rather try it after all of us have rested and aren't going to mess things up because we're tired," Wooley reiterated, then ruffled the Cadet's hair. "Obi-Wan's just excited to get started."

"Ah," Master Dooku nodded. "Well, I must say, as someone who finds 'sabre work fun, I can understand his enthusiasm."

"See, _vod'e_? Master Doo agrees with me." Obi-Wan tried to press once more.

That time, Master Sifo-Dyas seemed to realise what was going on, at last. "Obi-Wan," he interjected quietly, instantly getting the little one's attention. "We've talked about why it's not good to try to force people to do things." 

The little one seemed to wilt. "But-- was I? I just wanted to persuade them."

Wooley tugged him in for a quick hug. "No, you weren't forcing anyone, but it was starting to get close to feeling like it. You have to remember, Cadet. Persuasion can be nice, but it can also be the opposite if you're not careful and listening to the person you're talking to."

"Well said," Master Sifo-Dyas agreed, then got to his feet, his movements a trifle less graceful than usual. "Now, I believe I could stand to clean myself up, and so could the rest of you."

Wooley had to fight not to smile too obviously at hearing the master reuse the same transparent excuse a second time in the span of a few hours. He likely wouldn't have, if he'd been in top shape, it had to be said, but for now it was amusing to see.

General Kenobi, who'd been uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange, made an amused sound. "I don't doubt it. I think perhaps some downtime is in order for all of us before the late meal."

"That sounds like a good idea to me," Helix said, breaking his own silence. "Come on, _vod'e_. One of you pick up the Cadet and let's cart him off to where he belongs."

Waxer grinned -- Wooley could almost feel it, tugging at his own lips -- and joked, "Isn't that a kidnapping, _vod_?"

"Not if we give him back afterwards," Helix retorted, getting a snort out of Master Dooku.

General Kenobi raised an eyebrow at them. "Just because you give him back, doesn't mean it's not still a kidnapping," he pointed out, keeping his voice level but allowing his tone to go a bit sardonic. Likely thinking about the times something like that had happened to him, Wooley realised belatedly.

"Fine, Master Sifo-Dyas can cart him off, then, if it makes you feel better about it," Helix didn't back down, though he changed direction, so that Kenobi would be less strongly reminded of those moments. "Pick him up with the Force or something. Make it fun."

"Kidnappings aren't _fun_ ," Boil put in, rolling his eyes at them.

The Commander finally broke, then, deciding he was done listening to them banter. "All of you are absolutely ridiculous," he said, and scooped the Cadet up into his arms. "Come on, Obi-Wan, let's go inside, where we can find you something fresh to wear."

Happy enough to be manhandled, Obi-Wan didn't protest, giggling and squirming around until he could get his arms around Cody. Carefully not drawing attention to the fact that their Commander had dropped his rank and dignity long enough to verbally roughhouse with the rest of them, Wooley followed. "I'm with you on that one, sir."

Laughing at them, the others followed, leaving the three Masters to trail along behind them, in apparent bemusement.

The remainder of the afternoon passed quietly, and Wooley found himself more seriously thinking over the Cadet's insistence that they learn how to use a lightsabre. Maybe there really was something to it. He couldn't pinpoint what, but something was telling him that listening to Obi-Wan on this was the correct decision. 

He didn't know quite how to feel about that.

They'd learned the basics of knife fighting as cadets. Every _vod_ knew what a vibroknife was and how to use one. But learning how to use a lightsabre seemed... taboo, somehow. Lightsabres were used by _jetiise_ , not _Vod'e_. And the primary purpose of the _Vod'e_ was the protection of the _jetiise_.

Despite knowing that he could touch the Force -- that he was uniquely placed and would likely end up being both a _vod_ and a _jetii_ \-- the idea of even picking up a training 'sabre felt ... strange. Almost _wrong_.

There was no way he could bring that up to Kenobi, either. Their General cared about them and understood them in ways no other living person did, in this place and time. But until a bare few standard months ago, the Temple on Coruscant had all but defined his existence. It would be inconceivable to him that anyone wouldn't want to be a _jetii_ or might be uncomfortable with the idea.

Which was possibly overstating the case, here, granted, but Wooley knew all of his _vod'e_ felt much the same way he did on the topic.

The late meal came and went, not really making much of an impression on him, though it did draw him out of his thoughts long enough to talk and joke with his family, and then Kenobi deftly got him and the rest of his _vod'e_ settled in their sleeping quarters for another round of practice shielding.

It was a little bit disorienting, given his focus on his thoughts, to suddenly find himself sitting between Helix and Crys on the broad expanse of their mattress with Kenobi giving him a wry, knowing half-smile.

"Everything alright, Wooley?" Kenobi asked him, almost gently.

Taking a steadying breath before he answered, Wooley returned the half-smile. "Thinking. There's so much... so much I just don't know. About any of what's happening to us. To me."

"Does that pertain to anything in particular?" Kenobi asked for more intel, clearly trying to pinpoint the aspects that he could help with.

"Yes and no?" Wooley made a face.

Crys made an amused sound. "Helpful, _vod_ ," he quipped.

Wooley elbowed Crys in the side, pulling the blow more or less and ignoring the played up grunt of pain as well as the snickers from Longshot, then turned back to Kenobi. "It's hard to know what to ask," he explained, "when nearly all I have to go on is conjecture and a few observations that seem to conflict with one another."

Kenobi nodded. "Reasonable. Do you want to think it over some more or ask what questions you have, now?"

Wooley blinked at him. He hadn't expected that to be an option.

A beat later, he realised that he'd been treating it like trying to gather information in the lead-up to a firefight; needing to have as much as possible and making as much sense as possible, as quickly as possible.

But they weren't at war right now. The Death Watch wasn't a true threat anymore, though they might become one again at some point in the future, and the GAR didn't even exist as far as they were concerned, given their new status as _mando'ad'e_.

"I'll think it over a little bit more, if it's all the same, General," he answered cautiously, almost reluctantly, half-afraid this offer would vanish like mist in bright light.

Kenobi nodded. "Discuss it with your _vod'e_ first, if you prefer," he suggested, and that really wasn't a half bad idea.

Wooley nodded back.

Satisfied, Kenobi clapped his palms together once, and glanced around the room at them, meeting each _vod_ 's eyes before he spoke again. "So, the last time you practiced shielding, several of you had a bad reaction to it," he opened, and got nods from Waxer, Boil, and Crys, "and before we attempt that again, I want to ask how we can avoid having that recur."

Wooley wanted to laugh. "We'd been planning to make a few suggestions to that effect the next time the topic came up, actually," he offered, automatically taking the lead on this, as the _vod_ Kenobi was focusing on teaching.

"What are they?" Kenobi asked.

"The biggest one is to let us practice in staggered intervals. Having one _vod_ go dark at a time will be easier for the rest of us to bear than several at once," Wooley said bluntly, and then had to watch Kenobi's expression twist. In the network he felt like a mess of guilt and self-blame, which pierced through them all like a vibroknife. Wooley didn't like the way the dread that went with it felt like a rock growing in the pit of his stomach.

With a wince, Waxer flung himself at Kenobi. " _Kriff_ , General," he exclaimed, half-exasperated and half-pained, "that wasn't your fault! You don't get to blame yourself for something that we can't help feeling."

The self-blame only deepened. "I should've thought--" 

"No." Commander Cody cut him off sharply, then went on, his voice gentling. "No, you couldn't have known that would happen."

Kenobi shook his head stubbornly. "I should have, though. You've all hinted at it enough. If I'd been _thinking_ \--"

"No, General." The Commander held his ground. "None of us expected you to draw those kinds of conclusions from the oblique hints we might've dropped, and none of us blames you."

"If we don't blame you," Helix picked up the thread, joining their lieutenant, and Waxer's arms tightened around Kenobi, "there is no reason you should blame yourself. It's already been forgiven."

Boil and Crys moved in close to join the pair of _vod'e_ already hugging their General. "It's not the first time we've been reminded of that feeling, General, and all of us know it probably won't be the last," Boil added. "The odds that we'll end up marching far away -- be it here in the past or after we get back to the _Negotiator_ \-- are just too high for us to ignore the possibility."

"We accepted that risk long ago, General," Crys told him, the words simple but holding a wealth of meaning and emotion.

Longshot nodded, and added himself to their little tangle. "We meant it when we said you were one of ours. We intend to stick around until we physically can't anymore, but we've always known that there was a good chance we wouldn't live through the war."

That made it Wooley's turn, as the last _vod_ besides the Commander not yet in the hug. "It will take us a while to get used to the feeling of having our _vod'e_ drop out of the network, and until we do, it'll be upsetting, but having them in the room with us when it happens makes it just about bearable. The problem wasn't -- isn't -- shielding, and you didn't kark anything up. We just need to pick a different approach," he said, as he wormed his way into their tangle between Crys and Boil. Once he was situated, he wrapped their _di'kut'la_ General up in a hug in the network and felt his _vod'e_ follow his lead.

It took a few seconds that seemed more like hours, but then they finally felt Kenobi start to uncurl.

Commander Cody slowly got to his feet, looking like a karking lone sentinel with the strength and resolve to hold out against the full might of General Grievous and all his tinnies. "General," he said, audibly picking his words carefully, "you know that shielding hits me hard, and I know you have some idea _why_. But it _is_ getting easier."

"It is?" Kenobi's words were a bare whisper, choked and cracking under the weight of the snarled up mess of guilt-relief-confusion he was feeling.

"Yes," the Commander answered firmly, "and do you know why that is?"

Kenobi shook his head wordlessly.

"Because you've been helping us -- _me_ \-- get past that pain."

Surprised, Kenobi's eyes went wide, and he carefully wormed one arm free so that he could reach out to the Commander with an expression that did more than just hint at the awe that was bleeding through him.

Awe that the seven of them somehow inspired in their General.

Wooley wasn't sure they deserved that. Not from Kenobi, who towered over them despite the way he was gradually becoming one of them.

Before he could get any further in working out what to think of that particular bit of knowledge, the Commander was reaching back, wrapping his hand securely around Kenobi's forearm, as though he was about to haul their _jetii_ to his feet, and Kenobi was returning the gesture.

They stayed where they were, though, poised on the brink of... something. Wooley wasn't sure what. Waxer looked like he thought they were finally going to admit that they were head-over-heels for one another, watching them intently.

And then the moment broke.

Commander Cody let go and settled back into his spot on the mattress, prompting Kenobi to clear his throat a trifle awkwardly. Waxer made a disappointed moue and carefully picked his way out of their tangle of limbs. The rest of them did the same, one by one, and the tension in the room came down somewhat. 

"Well, I hadn't expected the conversation would go quite like this," Kenobi muttered.

"We did," Helix replied promptly. "Don't worry, General. Just... let yourself come back down off that. We all found that fairly difficult to address."

Kenobi scoffed at him. "That's one way to put it, I suppose."

Their medic caught their eyes one by one, and that was all it took for them to let him lead them in one of their breathing exercises. Kenobi joined in once he figured out what they were doing, and Wooley was glad that the most difficult part of this practice session was done.

Once they were all leveled out again, Kenobi smoothly took charge, leading them through a meditation and then having them practice building up their walls and then tearing them back down -- one of them at a time, as they'd requested -- while the rest of them clung to one another in the network for comfort.

All in all, despite how stressful it was for them, it worked out far better than their last attempt had, even though they didn't currently have three _jetiise_ trying to blanket them in peace and tranquility like last time.

When Kenobi finally let them stop, a couple of hours later, Wooley felt utterly drained. It was like he'd just relived one of the grueling physical training courses devised by the _Cuy'val Dar_.

"Tired?" Kenobi asked him with a smirk.

Wooley huffed at him. "I... yes and no? We didn't do much besides just sit around and think about walls, so physically no?"

The smirk widened. "But mentally, you're just about ready to drop," the General teased him. "That's perfectly alright. Building up your endurance in using the Force is just as difficult as the physical training you've undergone. Moreso in some ways."

Waxer groaned and let himself fall back to lie flat on his back on the mattress. "Wake me in a week," he requested.

Boil snickered. "Come on, _riduur_ ," he suggested. "Let's shower before we bunk down."

"You go on ahead, leave me. I'm not sure I can move," Waxer answered, making Crys snort loudly.

Longshot simply shook his head at their _vod_ and reached down to haul him to his feet. "Go clean up," he suggested, handing the _di'kut_ off to Boil.

"Once you've all got this down and built up your strength a bit more," Kenobi said without prompting, "we'll move on to the next step."

"What's that, sir?" Commander Cody asked the question they were all tempted to pose.

Their General looked almost happy at the very thought of what he was going to show them. "More advanced shielding techniques than a simple wall. You can get quite creative with them."

"Does that mean you'll show us what Master Plo showed you?" Waxer interjected.

"Once you've got a better grip on the basics, I can do that, if you wish," Kenobi answered, and all of them could feel how pleased he was by their wish to know more.

That, Wooley had to admit, was a pretty good incentive to practice.

\--


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: There is some brief and non-explicit discussion of possible sexual assault and the trauma that goes with it. No sexual assault happens. Ardanna is just worrying. 
> 
> There is also a brief reference to the attack that destroyed the surface of Mandalore. Again, nothing terribly graphic. I don't know that this will actually be an issue for anyone, but meh, might as well mention it than not.

\--- POV: Jango Fett ---

"So what's the word?" Jango asked Darist.

The two of them were seated in one of the off-duty guard rooms of the palace; this was where _verd'e_ working in the palace ate lunch or played cards or took a loth-cat nap in between shifts. Jango had timed the meeting so that they would be alone. The room was public, so anyone who saw him and Darist talking would know that the matter wasn't serious. On the off chance that a _verd_ wandered by, they'd see the datapads strewn about the table and leave them to their business. 

Appearances, Jango was coming to understand, were just as important as what was actually going on. His _buir_ seemed to manage it all effortlessly. Jango had to sit and think about it.

Well, that was why Jaster gave him these duties. To train him.

From the slight quirk of Darist's lips, she knew it too. Jango was young, but he would be the next _Mand'alor_ , assuming the clan chieftains didn't elect someone new, or that Jaster didn't lose a challenge. He had to be ready to lead his people.

Part of that was checking up with the _verd'e_. At some point soon, he reminded himself, he needed to comm Myles and Silas. It'd been too karking long since he'd heard from either of them. Maybe Wen as well, if he was in the mood to deal with that _verd_ 's ridiculous attempts at being funny.

Darist had been one of Jaster's supercommandos for a few years now. She didn't talk a lot, especially not to strangers, and she was as blunt as a warhammer. She was a good choice for Jaster's second. Jango knew that she'd had reservations about the position; as far as he could tell, they were unfounded. The _verd'e_ respected her and he hadn't heard any unusual grumbling.

"Word is that the little _jet'ika_ might find himself kidnapped by your _vod'ike_ before he and the _jetii_ he came with head out," she said, amused. 

Jango rolled his eyes and nodded. The _vod'e_ were so obvious it was ridiculous. "They won't, but they sure do look like they want to."

Darist snorted and took a sip of her caff. 

"Charming little bugger, isn't he?" She shook her head. "Looks like a handful and a half. I'm glad he's not my _ad_."

Jango didn't know Darist well, but they were reasonably acquainted. She didn't have a _riduur_ , though rumor was that one or two of the other _verd'e_ were considering vying for the honor. 

After the rescue from the Death Watch mine labor camp, she was one of the _verd'e_ who'd stepped up to adopt one of the rescues. The older _ad'e_ of that group were sixteen. Technically, they'd reached the age of majority for a Mandalorian, but they were young and without _aliit_ or resources. Darist had adopted Falin, one of the young men who'd been injured protecting Longshot and Crys. He was already grown and now healed from his imprisonment. All Darist needed to do was give him a place to stay, armour, support, and _aliit_. 

Jango knew from personal experience that it was no walk in the park to adjust after one's family was killed. Falin was a good _verd_ , but he was still heartsick. Darist would have her hands full supporting him.

"What, thinking of getting another foundling? Falin isn't keeping you busy enough?" Jango teased.

The dry look she gave him told him where he could shove that idea. 

She pursed her lips and looked at her caff mug. "You know, he and the others want to see Longshot and Crys. Now that they're all healed up. They want a chance to talk to the people who saved them."

Oh.

That made sense, now that Jango thought about it. 

"I don't think they would mind," Jango said. 

Maybe sometime during the afternoon. Obi-Wan would want to meet them, too, and so far Master Sifo-Dyas had been very willing to be dragged along to whatever the little one wanted to go investigate. 

"They wanna meet the _jetiise_ too?" he asked.

"Yeah, probably. All the _ad'ike_ are dying to go ask questions. The _verd'e_ are, too. They're just more polite about it." She grinned.

"You mean they've asked me instead," Jango said a little sourly. He'd fielded more ridiculous questions about crazy Force powers in the last four weeks than he'd ever even thought of himself during his whole life. 

Darist just grinned wider. "It's good practice, _verd'ika_."

Jango did not grumble at her about _practice, his ass_. He knew that _verd'e_ gossiped. Hell, he and Darist were doing just that, right now. He also knew that it was important to spread good information to his people. Information was power and a _verd_ who had a reasonable expectation of the risk involved in any given situation made wiser choices. Other sectors might have rulers that stayed in power by virtue of the fear and ignorance that they fostered in their people, but Mandalore was better than that. 

He had to remind himself of that every time a new _verd_ walked up to him and asked him if _jetiise_ slept floating in the air or if they ate sunshine, like plants, or if Jaster was going to start courting one of them. 

The answers to all of that were, of course, no, no, and _kriff, I don't want to think about that_. 

Which was probably why they kept asking him. Although now the rumor was that the two _jetiise_ were involved somehow. Jango had to agree with that one. Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku did act like long time _riduur'e_ as much as they acted like close friends. 

"I'll bring it up to them tonight at dinner," Jango promised, neatly avoiding further discussion on the topic of the _verd'e_ rumor mill. "They're usually busy in the mornings, maybe in the afternoon sometime."

"Sounds good. I'll let Falin round up his _verd'ike_." She sipped her caff. "When will the _jetiise_ earth healers show up?"

"Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku are working with the Council to get a place set up for them in Sundari. My guess is the earth healers will show up sometime after Sifo-Dyas and the _jet'ika_ head back. Dooku is coordinating."

Darist hummed and nodded. Speculation was running rampant about the Agri-corps among the _verd'e_ and the New Mandalorians took it to even greater heights. Mandalore's surface had been a barren desert for centuries. The idea that the _jetiise_ of all people might show up and make it liveable again was controversial. 

"The _verd'e_ are split," Darist said, answering Jango's unspoken question. "Jaster's _ori'ramikad’e_ are hesitantly in favor. They've seen how Ben protects the _Mand'alor_ , and we here at the palace have watched him and his _vod'e_ and the visiting _jetiise_ train. We're spreading the word out to the rest of the _Haat Mando'ad'e_. The outlying clans are more reserved, but they've all got _aliit_ who were involved with the Death Watch campaign. They saw the _jetiise_ lead from the front. Word is, they're more hesitant, but most are at least willing to let it play out. There are some holdouts and some hostile comments, but the Chieftains are keeping it in line."

Jango nodded. That was similar to what he'd seen in the Council room. He appreciated the extra information anyways.

"Keep me informed about anyone we need to keep an eye on," he requested. 

Darist nodded.

That took care of the True Mandalorians. He'd been talking with Chieftain Adonai about the New Mandalorians. They were more interested in the _jetiise_ showing up en masse. Adonai in particular thought that if the planet's surface was arable, then more of the traditional clans would lay down their weapons and take up the pacifist lifestyle.

Jango thought that was kriffing idiotic. The Mandalore Sector had several agricultural worlds, more than enough to supply the sector and have extra for export. Kark, Jango's own family had been farmers on Concord Dawn, though his _buir_ had also been the local Journeyman Protector. If the True Mandalorians wanted to go farm, they already had ample opportunity. 

Adonai seemed to have forgotten that just because a _mando'ad_ grew food for a living, that didn't mean they gave up the _Resol'nare_. Education, armour, self-defense, tribe, language, leader. None of the Six Actions said that a _mando'ad_ needed to follow the path of a _verd_. To give up the _Resol'nare_ was to lose one's soul and become _dar'manda_. A fate worse than death for traditional _Mando'ad'e_.

Even though the New Mandalorians appeared to be appreciative of the Agri-corps showing up, Jaster had asked Adonai to keep a close look out for anyone who might try to make trouble. Jango and Darist were doing the same for the traditional clans.

It would just be their luck if some _di'kut'la verd_ decided to prove they were _mandokar'la_ by putting a blaster to a _jetii_ farmer's face. Jango wasn't really worried about Ben; he and the _vod'e_ could wipe the floor with any single _verd_ or group of _verd'e_. Likewise, little Obi-Wan was well guarded by Master Sifo-Dyas, and Master Dooku too most of the time. But the _jetiise_ farmers? They were an unknown quantity, and Ben had strongly implied that they needed protection to venture into the Outer Rim sectors. 

Jango and Darist spent another hour catching up on deployments of their _verd'e_ , clan activities, and the status of the remains of the Death Watch faction. 

Pre Vizsla was still missing, along with a handful of Clan Vizsla _verd'e_. At this point, the assumption was that they'd jumped sectors. 

Concordia was in the process of becoming an official province, with all the rights and regulations that came with that honor. The field of candidates for who would become the governor had been painstakingly narrowed down to three options. None of them were perfectly ideal for Jaster, but none of them were outright losses either. That might have rankled, except the New Mandalorians were in the same ship. The whole Council was grumbling, but there was no outright infighting. Jango laid the thanks for that directly on Dooku and Ben's combined negotiating prowess. 

Kark, but he'd known that _jetiise_ were considered diplomats, but he'd never really seen one in action before Ben showed up. He was more than a little astonished by what they could sweet talk -- or intimidate, in Master Dooku's case -- people into. 

The palace and the Sundari Clinic were both nearly completely renovated. The clinic still had some structural work to be done, and the palace was just adding on cosmetic touches. A handful of Death Watch agents had been caught by the new security measures that Ben and Cody had insisted on. To everyone's relief, there were no new major incidents. 

When the conversation devolved into pure gossip, Jango thanked Darist and wrapped up the meeting. 

"Before I go, someone, I donno who, needs to contact Captain Sina," Darist said as she stood up.

"Why?" Jango gathered up the datapads, carefully saving the relevant information on them.

"She sent me a comm. Apparently, that visiting _jetii_ gave one of her patrolling guards a datapad. She has questions."

"When the kriff?" Jango asked. He left his jaw open and shook his head, because _really_ when the karking kriff had Master Sifo-Dyas been out of sight long enough to give a karking city guard a datapad?

Darist held up her hands, palm out, as if to say, _do not ask me_. 

"Have fun figuring that out, _ad_ ," she said with a dry smirk.

Jango sighed and kept the rest of his swearing silent.

_Might as well deal with this now_ , he thought. 

He tapped his chest in salute to Darist, who returned the gesture, and made his way to a comm room to call up Captain Sina. While he walked, he considered the merits of grabbing Master Dooku. 

Dooku _was_ the official liaison, after all. He knew Master Sifo-Dyas' quirks as well, though Jango wasn't sure if that would be a positive or a negative in this case. 

He checked his chrono. Afternoon practice should be finished by now. He sent Master Dooku a quick text comm, and requested a meeting. 

It didn't take too long for Master Dooku to join him in the comm room. Jango'd had enough time to look over some potential contracts for the Headhunter Company, and earmarked a few for Jaster to look at later. 

"Jango, how may I be of service?" Master Dooku asked, once he'd entered the room.

Jango set aside his datapad, and waved him into a seat. "Captain Sina of the City Guard said that Master Sifo-Dyas gave one of her _verd'e_ a datapad with instructions to give it to her. She's got questions."

"Ah." Master Dooku took a moment to consider that, and then nodded once. "I see. I will endeavor to help shed some light on the situation for her."

"You know about this?" Jango asked. 

"Not at all," Master Dooku said with a wry smile. "But this sort of thing is not unusual for Master Sifo-Dyas. He likely handed it off while we were out sightseeing."

That had been just over two weeks ago. Jango could see how that had worked out. A low level guard would have handed the datapad up to his superior, who would have had to pass it along to the Captain, who had likely then spent a few days waffling about _what the kriff_ and trying to discern if this was something she really needed to spend her time dealing with.

Clearly, she'd decided to pass the cred on up the line. Jango should probably be grateful. If she'd been a hardliner against the _jetiise_ then she would have just tossed the datapad in the trash.

But still…

"When the kriff did he talk to a guard?" Jango had to ask. "I could have sworn that I had eyes on him the whole time."

Master Dooku shrugged. "He probably used the Force to guide him, picking the perfect moment. Or perhaps it might be more apt to say that the Force encouraged him to hand off the item in question at a specific time in a specific way. It's difficult to say."

The _vod'e_ were right. The Force was bathashit. Absolute _osik_. 

Jango pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't need space sorcerer powers to feel Master Dooku's amusement at his reaction. 

"Alright. I'm gonna comm her and we'll see what's going on," Jango said.

It didn't take him long to get in touch with the Captain, though he was put on hold for a short amount of time. Being the _Mand'alor_ 's _ad_ had some benefits. 

"Captain Sina," Jango said in greeting as soon as her image popped up on the holo. He tapped his closed fist to his heart in the traditional salute, and she returned the gesture automatically.

Captain Sina nodded to them both and settled herself further into her chair. She'd clearly just sat down. Her hair was only halfway pinned up, though she was still in armour. That meant that she hadn't been at her desk, but she hadn't been out in the city either. Good timing on his part, then. 

" _Su cuy’gar_ , Fett, _jetii_ ," she said.

"I heard word from Darist H'yza that our visiting _jetii_ gave something to you."

Her gaze flickered to Dooku. It suddenly struck Jango that he was making a statement here about his, and his _buir_ 's, trust in the _jetii_. She'd expected to be contacted alone. Having Master Dooku here said that whatever she had to say about the _jetiise_ , she could say in front of their liaison. 

_Kriff_. Jango held back a wince. He hadn't really meant to imply that level of trust. He didn't think it was misplaced, so that was one small saving grace. He'd have to tell _buir_ tonight after dinner, just to let him know the lay of the land. 

"One of my guards was handed this," she lifted up a small datapad and waved it at them, "by Master Sifo-Dyas two weeks ago. He was out with his _ad'ika_ and your _vod'e_."

Jango nodded. "We both were there, too, if I'm thinking of the right outing."

She set the datapad down in front of her and pressed her lips together. "It is blank except for two files on it. One contained details of the heating and cooling system for our main Guardhouse. There was a list of suggested renovations. The note further stated that said renovations should be completed within six months, or the Guardhouse will burn to the ground."

Jango blinked. 

"And the other file?" Master Dooku asked.

Captain Sina's gaze slowly panned to Master Dooku. "Simply stated that the third floor break room was critically low on caff."

_What_. 

Whatever expression was on Jango's face, Captain Sina must have agreed with, because she just held up both of her hands and pointed towards him in the universal sign for _you see what I'm dealing with here?_

"And was it?" Master Dooku asked. 

Jango thought that Master Dooku already knew the answer. He couldn't quite place why. Master Dooku's expression was completely earnest. Experience told him that Master Dooku was secretly laughing. The man seemed to live on quietly stirring up trouble. 

"...Yes," she admitted. 

She didn't sound happy about that. 

Jango could see why. Either Master Sifo-Dyas had been sneaking around the City Guardhouse, _somehow_ , or he'd gotten his information via other means. That meant that someone else was out there selling information about the City Guard and their building schematics, and that whoever it was had access to her building. None of these options were comfortable thoughts. 

"And did your maintenance staff check the heating and cooling system?" Master Dooku asked, again as innocent as spring sunshine. 

Captain Sina ran her tongue over her teeth. "They did. Some of the wiring has nearly worn through. It seems like natural wear and tear." That statement neatly implied that she wasn't sold on that fact. "There was a leak, and the dripping fluids have corroded several key parts of the system. Much of it will have to be replaced. If left unchecked, it… could… have caused a fire."

She pursed her lips together like she'd swallowed something sour. 

It was a bit of a tricky situation. On the face of it, it looked like Master Sifo-Dyas had procured sensitive information about a government building. If she was being charitable, Captain Sina might think that Master Sifo-Dyas' spies had uncovered something potentially dangerous and he simply brought it to her attention. If she was being suspicious, she might assume that the spy caused the damage and that the datapad was a subtle threat. 

Unfortunately, both of those assumptions were wrong. By now, Jango had heard, and seen, a kriffing lot of evidence to point at Master Sifo-Dyas' karking weird Force abilities. He just _knew things_. 

First things first. "Does your budget cover the repair?" Jango asked.

"It does, barely. We've been building funds to replace the whole system in the next two years anyways. Our budget should be fine. Assuming that nothing else major goes wrong." She very slightly raised an eyebrow, subtly implying that this incident might be sabotage and that it could happen again.

Master Dooku pointedly did not look at Jango, though Jango could feel his attention on him.

Right. This was where Jango stepped in. If Master Dooku tried to reassure her, she wouldn't buy it.

"The information was given in good faith," Jango said firmly. "And you don't have an information leak. Master Sifo-Dyas is an oracle. The Force grants him visions of the future."

"Master Sifo-Dyas is very gifted," Master Dooku said.

Captain Sina looked like she desperately wanted to pinch the bridge of her nose, and was only holding herself back by the thinnest of margins.

"Magic," she said flatly. "You're telling me that a space wizard wandered by, got a magical vision of my headquarters burning down, and decided to jot it down on a datapad and give it to the nearest wandering guard on duty."

"Colloquialisms aside, yes." Master Dooku nodded. "Though I would argue that this use of the Force isn't precisely magic."

Captain Sina closed her eyes and raised her hand up to stop wherever Dooku was going with that argument. Master Dooku obliged her with nothing more than a very tiny smirk.

She opened her eyes and looked at Jango.

"Yeah," Jango said, resigned. "That's about the long and short of it."

Captain Sina covered her face with both hands and dug her fingers into her forehead, rubbing like she was trying to dig that information right back out of her head. The moment passed quickly and she dropped her hands back on her desk, and her polite mask of professionalism was firmly back in place. 

"Alright." She paused a moment, and then asked, "And the _Mand'alor_ is aware of this _jetii_ 's… abilities?"

"He is." Jango nodded. "Apparently, Master Sifo-Dyas is well known for it back at his home Temple."

Master Dooku nodded. "He is on the Jedi High Council. His wisdom is much sought after."

Given all the things that Dooku had hinted about Master Sifo-Dyas being shunned for his visions, that might be stretching the truth.

Although, now that Jango thought about it, maybe it wasn't. Knowledge of the future would be a very marketable thing. There were a _lot_ of people who would want to know what Master Sifo-Dyas had to say, even while they treated him poorly for his abilities. Sure, a wise farmer knew to feed his milking beasts well, but a greedy one would only give them enough to live and produce. The Jedi didn't have to treat Master Sifo-Dyas well to want to hear what he had to say.

None of this endeared the Jedi Order to Jango. But it did make him consider other worries… ones he might need to bring up to Master Dooku in private later.

Captain Sina gave Master Dooku a flat look and asked sardonically, "And that's why he felt the need to be sneaky, and thus make me re-do all the background checks on all of my _verd'e_ , rather than just telling the _Mand’alor_ and having him give us the information?"

Master Dooku shrugged. "I doubt that was his intention, but it never hurts to keep a close eye on your personnel."

It was probably a good thing that this meeting wasn’t in person. Captain Sina might have actually tried to stab Master Dooku for that remark. She covered it well, but her _no kriffing shit_ expression was as clear to Jango as the colors of her armor.

"Alright." Captain Sina took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you for the clarification, Fett, Master Dooku."

Jango nodded at her, and Master Dooku did the same.

"If your friend _jetii_ gets any more visions," she momentarily looked like she'd bitten something bitter, "then please just send a comm. There is always someone here to answer the general line. Just make sure that it is addressed to me, and from either of you, and I will look at it promptly."

_And none of this kriffing about with handing off datapads like a drug deal gone wrong_ , she didn't say but heavily implied. Jango was impressed with how much disapproval she could pack into a look without ever crossing the line of impropriety. 

He felt like he should be taking notes. 

"I will let Master Sifo-Dyas know," Master Dooku said. Jango noted that he did not agree to the comm situation. He only agreed to pass on her request. 

"Thank you." She nodded again at them, tapped her fist to her heart in salute to Jango, and ended the holo. 

Jango stared at the holo terminal for a moment. 

"He does this _osik_ on purpose, doesn't he?" he asked.

Master Dooku cast him an amused look. "Sometimes," he admitted. "Sometimes it really is the best way to deliver information, for reasons that would never occur to anyone else. Or perhaps even himself."

"And he just does it anyways? Without even knowing why?" That made no karking sense.

"We trust in the Force to guide us," Master Dooku said simply.

"You are all kriffing crazy," Jango said, voice flat and unimpressed. 

Master Dooku huffed in amusement. "Is it crazy if it gets results?"

"Yup."

That made Master Dooku laugh outright. 

Just as the _jetii_ was about to stand to leave, Jango waved him back down into his seat. Something he'd thought of during their conversation with Captain Sina was still bothering him. Now was as good a time as any to bring it up.

Master Dooku looked at him expectantly as he settled back into his chair.

"Master Dooku, may I ask you a few questions about Master Sifo-Dyas?" Jango asked quietly. He was, well, not worried. But maybe a little bit concerned. 

"You may ask, but I cannot guarantee that I will answer," came the prim reply. It didn't escape Jango that Master Dooku's good humor seemed to flee, to be replaced by a mask of neutral indifference. 

The caution was probably justified. If the _jetii_ had been talking to one of Jango’s _vod'ike_ , the next question posed would likely have been if the two _jetiise_ were kriffing. 

"You said that Master Sifo-Dyas is sought after for his wisdom, implying that to mean his visions." Jango paused to see if Master Dooku would jump in. He didn't. "Is he at risk if his abilities become common knowledge?"

Master Dooku's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're concerned that he might be a target for kidnapping."

Or slavery. Jango didn't think he needed to spell out the gruesome details for the older _jetii_ , though. Given his experience, he likely already knew.

"Lots of bad people would want an oracle on staff, and wouldn't care what they had to pay or who they had to hurt to make it happen," he said instead. 

"Hmm, that is true." Master Dooku crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, looking contemplative. 

"It is a risk," Master Dooku said after a moment. "All Jedi face a similar risk. Force sensitives are in high demand in the slave trade, for a variety of reasons. All of us are known to be at least a little precognitive. And it would be nigh impossible for your average pirate or warlord to compel a gift like Master Sifo-Dyas' visions. Not that they would know this," he admitted. 

His expression drew down in concern. 

"But the Sith," he said quietly. "Sith sorcery might be able to bludgeon Force visions into obedience. It wasn't a concern before now, because we thought the Sith extinct. Wiped out a thousand years ago. And yet Ben has told us otherwise."

Ben, who was from the future, a future where the Sith waged war with the galaxy and Jedi led armies. Jango winced.

"Didn't Master Sifo-Dyas have visions of the Sith?" Jango thought that would be clue enough that the return of the Dark Side users was something that the Jedi needed to worry about.

Master Dooku sighed in frustration. "There are many in the Order who would argue that those visions are metaphors. Force visions can sometimes be elusive and subject to interpretation."

Kark, no wonder Master Sifo-Dyas didn't talk much to other Jedi. If people kept telling Jango that shit he _knew_ was going to happen was just an elaborate dream to signify some other more mundane worry, he wouldn't spend time around them either. 

"That's kriffing stupid," Jango growled out.

Master Dooku just shrugged and held up his hands, though his mouth twisted in dissatisfaction. "The Order is comfortable in its supremacy. To admit that there are threats that they have overlooked for centuries is to admit to weakness, or worse, hubris."

Right now, Jango kind of wanted to strangle the whole karking Order. 

He let it go. If he was lucky, he'd never have to deal with them. 

Jango tried not to remember that no one was that lucky.

"So he is at risk," Jango said instead, bringing his point back around.

"Yes." Master Dooku looked subtly worried. "How much a risk that is... I don't know. But it's something that I'll have to remind both him and the High Council of." He took a sharp inhale and glanced up at the ceiling, clearly marshalling his temper. "I know that Ben has his reasons for keeping his silence about his home timeline, but there are moments where I wish I knew what to prepare for."

"He'll tell you when and if he's comfortable with it." Which probably meant karking never, but Jango didn't want to dash the man's hopes.

From Master Dooku's dry look, he knew what Jango thought about the matter anyways.

"I'm aware, Jango. And I've no interest in putting undue pressure on him. But even Jedi occasionally feel impatient." That last bit was said with a very small smirk, as if Master Dooku were poking fun at himself.

Jango had to bark out a short laugh. Kriff, but Master Dooku was much easier to get along with when Master Sifo-Dyas was around. More willing to talk and show amusement, more willing to make the occasional deadpan joke. 

Against his better judgement, Jango found himself enjoying the older _jetii_ 's company. 

He didn't want to bring it up, but he thought he recalled Ben mentioning Master Sifo-Dyas before, back when they first met on Korda VI. Something about the _vod'e_ and their creation. The implication was that Master Sifo-Dyas had died long before Ben got involved with the whole scenario.

In light of that, maybe he'd better mention his worry to Ben, too. He might have a few ideas on how to keep Master Sifo-Dyas safe, if only for Obi-Wan's sake. 

"Maybe Master Sifo-Dyas should tone down the prophecising then?" Jango suggested hesitantly.

"He cannot. The visions come regardless, and Master Sifo-Dyas long ago made peace with the fact that he can choose to warn people and attempt to change events for the better even at great risk to himself, or he can choose to stay silent and watch as others die. For all his quirks, Master Sifo-Dyas is an unfailingly kind man."

"I see."

And he did. Jango thought that all Jedi might make the same choice. Maybe they all _did_ , and that's why they ran around the galaxy trying to solve everyone’s problems. Certainly Ben tried to help everyone he could, no matter his own comfort or safety. 

"Are you joining us for dinner?" Master Dooku asked, surprising Jango with the change of subject.

Jango glanced at his chrono. "Kark, it is almost time to eat. I need to drop off some stuff at _buir_ 's office, then I'll join you. Thank you for helping me field Captain Sina's questions."

"My pleasure, Jango." Master Dooku gave him another one of those wry smirks, stood, and bowed. "We will see you, once you are done, then."

Jango waved absently at him as he left, and then quickly finished up his errands. 

Less than an hour later and he was settled into his seat at the _vod'e_ 's dining room table. His _buir_ had really done a nice job with the plans for their suite. So far, Jango was really enjoying the additional space, especially for family dinners. It meant that the _vod'e_ could be as cautious as they wanted and everyone could still be comfortable. Master Sifo-Dyas, Master Dooku, and Obi-Wan all fit easily in the space around the large oval table in addition to Jaster, Jango, Ben, and the _vod'e_. 

They all chatted comfortably as food was shared around. It had been odd at first to have the two master _jetiise_ join them for most meals. Now it was just business as usual. With Obi-Wan there chatting and giggling with the _vod'e_ , the _jetiise_ in their midst felt more like personal guests than ambassadors. 

It was a strangely comfortable situation. 

"Master Sifo-Dyas," Ben said, likely in an effort to extract himself from the conversation Obi-Wan was having with Cody about Temple classes. "Why _did_ you give Cody a datapad with real estate information on it? And why in such a secretive way?"

Master Sifo-Dyas set his fork down and swept an extremely unimpressed look across the table, taking in all the _vod'e_ and landing on Ben last. 

Cody just gave him a dry look back, as if to say, _did you really think we wouldn't tell him?_

"Because he needed to know," Master Sifo-Dyas said, sighing a little. 

"And I didn't?" Ben prodded.

Master Sifo-Dyas scrunched up his face and tapped his fingers on the table. He opened his mouth to speak, and then bit his teeth together into a wince. Whatever he was looking at wasn't anywhere in the room.

Jaster and Jango exchanged their regular _what the kriff_ look. It was becoming habit for them. Jango wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.

Finally, Master Sifo-Dyas rubbed the expression off of his face and focused back on Ben. "Cody needed to know. I knew that he'd tell you, and you'll…" He gestured helplessly at Ben. "You'll do something with that, but that's only tangentially related to why Cody needs to know. And he needed to know that this information was for _him_."

"You don't know why I'll need it," Cody stated.

Master Sifo-Dyas shook his head.

"But still, why the secrecy? You could have just handed it right to him and _said_ that it was for him," Helix persisted. 

"Because it's a secret."

"But it's not a secret," Boil insisted. "We all know. You knew that we'd tell each other, and it would have been easy enough to just give it to us when we were alone in our rooms."

All of a sudden, Master Sifo-Dyas just looked tired. His shoulders slumped and he rubbed his temple with two fingers. "I _know_. But. It's a secret. No, I don't know why, or what that secret is, or what will happen with that land. I simply _could not_ bring myself to speak of it openly. Because…" 

His mouth twisted unhappily and he slouched dejectedly in his chair. 

"Because?" Master Dooku asked, not unkindly.

"Because it would ruin the surprise," Master Sifo-Dyas said helplessly. 

They all stared at him. 

He took a breath and straightened in his chair. His face slipped into a mask of _jetii_ indifference and he went back to taking delicate bites of his dinner.

Jango would have assumed that meant he was alright, except for the tiny, displeased frown on Master Dooku's face and the glare he leveled at the rest of them.

_Kark, we're probably making Master Sifo-Dyas uncomfortable_ , Jango realized. 

The _vod'e_ must have caught on at the same time; they all started eating again. Jango watched Master Sifo-Dyas in his peripheral vision, trying not to spook the _jetii_ any more than he already was. The moment the rest of them took their visible attention off of him, he grabbed his tea cup and wrapped both his hands around it, lingering over a sip. 

Yeah. Kriff. They had made the master feel uncomfortable. _Osik_.

_Jetiise_ were so weird.

"It's a s'prise," Obi-Wan mused. "I wonder what it'll be." 

"It's not bad," Master Sifo-Dyas said firmly. "It's not a bad thing. However it works out."

"Well, that's something," Waxer said. 

The feel in the room relaxed little by little as everyone got on with their meal. 

"It's just… there's really nothing but sand on that land," Ben said. Clearly, he was still puzzling over the situation.

"Lotta that here on Mandalore," Jaster replied, a touch sardonically. 

"Do you know what kind of sand?" Ben asked. 

"Not offhand?" Jaster gave him a mystified look. "Sand is sand."

"Sand is not always just sand." Ben grimaced. "My former padawan grew up on a desert planet and had more than one very colorful rant on the subject."

"Oh Force, General Skywalker and his bitching about sand," Cody groaned. "I've never heard someone complain so much about a beach."

"It gets everywhere!" Waxer said in a faux-whine.

"In everything!" Boil answered in the same tone of voice. 

"In your boots," Wooley piped up.

"In your bed," Crys added, grinning.

"In your caff," Helix said, rolling his eyes.

"He also said it made ration bars taste worse, but I call banthashit on that," Longshot said, only to have Helix lean over and smack him.

"No swearing around the Cadet!"

"Ooop, sorry," Longshot said sheepishly. 

Obi-Wan just giggled at them around a mouthful of pasta. 

"Seriously, though, nothing could make ration bars taste worse," Longshot continued. 

Master Dooku huffed in amusement, while Master Sifo-Dyas managed to smirk.

Ben was too distracted looking at a datapad he'd dug up out of his belt. "Hmmmm. Public surveys say, let's see, mostly silica, iron… some minerals. Mica, feldspar, quartz… Some areas of the planet are primarily calcium carbonate sands, that makes sense if they used to be lakes or rivers… and, _oh_."

"What?" Jango asked, intrigued. He knew kriff-all about geology, but it sounded like Ben had found something interesting.

" _Beskar_. The areas of the planet that have silica-based sands, and those near the sites of old _beskar_ mines have _beskar_ grains in the sand. Including the area around Sundari, which apparently used to be a _beskar_ mine."

Jaster shrugged. "It's Mandalore. This is where _beskar_ comes from."

Ben set the datapad down and leaned over the table, his posture betraying his enthusiasm. "My dear former padawan once told me of all the things that one could make out of sand, and it is an astonishing amount of products. What types of products are determined by what the sand is made of. _Beskar_ is an incredible metal. I'm curious, _buir_ , does Mandalore create any glass products?"

"Not beyond what's locally used. It's not an export, if that's what you mean."

" _Beskar_ is naturally resistant to various types of energy and radiation. It's what makes it such an effective material for armour. Blaster bolts are next to useless against well made _beskar'gam_ , and it's even resistant to lightsabre strikes. I wonder if any of those properties could be transposed into glass. Something like transparisteel, but made with _beskar_ instead of other metals."

Jango lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "That would be something. If you can figure it out."

"Well, it wouldn't be me, not really. An expert in the field, though. They might be able to work it out. We could set up a small experimental facility on that patch of land…" Ben rubbed his chin.

Jaster waved a hand at Ben. "If you want to give it a go, the land is yours to work with. We just need to get the deed straightened out."

"I'll take care of it, _buir_ ," Jango said. He had some things to do with the city administration tomorrow anyways, and something told him that this would be good practice for him.

"Thanks, _ad_." Jaster smiled at him. 

Jango already had good ties with the _verd'e_ and the True Mandalorian clans. But to be _Mand'alor_ someday, he'd have to be familiar with all facets of how their people worked. 

While he was out in the city, he thought he might stop by and see Captain Sina, too. Just to meet her in person and see what he could do to smooth things over with her. At the very least, it couldn't hurt to make some friends with the Sundari Guard. 

\--

\--- POV: Ardanna Byzkan ---

Wooley and his _vod'e_ arrived early for his lesson. With them were the _jetiise_ and their _jet'ika_.

Had Wooley and his _vod'e_ arrived alone, she would have been sorely tempted to interrogate them gently about some of the comments they'd made the last time the _jetiise_ were present. What they'd hinted at suggested that someone had done far more than just train them in martial skill, strategy, and tactics. It had to have gone far deeper. And the mere idea that anyone would expose _ad'ike_ that young to the kinds of explicit topics the seven of them discussed with ease and obvious depth of knowledge made her blood boil.

And that wasn't even going anywhere near the fact that the _Mand'alor_ was very carefully _not telling her something_. Something to do with these seven _verd'ike_. It had to be something big. Something important.

Very likely also something _dangerous_. Or at the very least, traumatic.

Which meant it made sense that Mereel might want to keep it to himself. Foundlings were the future, and these wickedly competent _verd’ike_ weren’t the only children that had been adopted fresh out of a private hell. Most _Mando’ad’e_ had experience dealing with traumatized children. 

So she knew that if Jaster’s new _ad’ike_ had told him something in confidence, that trust would have to be respected. _Aliit_ should be a _safe_ group for the _ad’ike_ ; the more that was reinforced, the sooner they would open up. Ardanna had already seen the start of it with how the _verd’ike_ gossiped around her during Wooley’s training time. She’d learned more than they would have expected just by listening in.

Jaster might have already done what he could to get them whatever help they needed without breaking their confidence. Ardanna had heard tales of the _verd’ike_ going to talk to the _jetii_ healer when she’d been here. Why they might choose a _jetii_ over one of the _mando’ad baar’ur'e_ , Ardanna could only guess. It might have something to do with how they all seemed to know far too much about the Order, and how they trusted Ben to a shocking degree.

Despite that knowledge, the situation nettled her. It was an Armourer’s very purpose to gather and disseminate information and to guide their people. If she wasn't kept informed about the important goings on, how was she to do her job? To know that something crucial like that was being withheld from her was galling. 

_Ka’ra_ , she was worried about those children. The _vod’e_ showed no trace of shame or fear about their detailed knowledge of sex, which Ardanna hoped meant that whatever knowledge they’d been forced to gain was purely academic. Or rare, at least. But Ben… the way he flirted would have been remarkable but acceptable in an adult. For a child it was beyond concerning. The things it implied about what had happened to him were awful, and Ardanna could so easily see him trying to shield his _vod’e_ from harm...

Most of the details weren’t truly necessary for her to know. That type of personal information was for their _buir_ , and whoever else they trusted enough to share it with. Even though she _wanted_ to know. Even though she’d already started to care about Wooley and his smart, talented _vod’e_. Even though it pained her deeply to see such young children talk about things they shouldn’t have personal experience with. 

What she _did_ need to know was the names of those responsible. She’d already made it clear to the _Mand’alor_ that he _would_ be sharing that information as soon as he had it, so that the _Haat Mando’ad’e_ could wipe that atrocity out of the galaxy. 

But, for now, she had other concerns to focus on. Wooley and his _vod'e_ weren't alone. And today, they'd brought the _jet'ika_ and his _buir'e_ with them.

Ardanna had heard of the little one's tantrum on the training field from Wooley, and noted as the child walked in that he still seemed uncomfortable even after wearing his new gear for half a week. Perhaps it was foolish to put him in the standard armour offered to _ad'ike_ his age. She and Ben had been working together for months to tailor a set of _beskar'gam_ that would suit his needs. Of course the _jet'ika_ would be no different.

Clearly, the _jetiise_ needed a different baseline for their armour. Ardanna was wise enough to see that if she continued to attempt to put every _jetii_ that the _Mand'alor_ adopted into traditional _beskar'gam_ , then she would continue to have the same problems over and over. 

Ardanna was many things, but stupid was not one of them.

Once Ben's armour was perfected, she would use that as a starting template, and further her experimentation with Obi-Wan and Master Dooku. 

Master Sifo-Dyas, too, though as soon as she turned her attention to him, she thought of their visit to the armoury, rotations earlier. 

The visiting _jetii_ spoke strangely. Kind and present one moment and distant and unhinged the next. She'd _thought_ that he would be a good _buir_ for the little one, until he'd started speaking of rampant death in the future. 

He was unsettling. And the way he'd _laughed_. It wasn't healthy. 

No sooner had his strange behavior set Ardanna on her guard, though, than he had hustled his rumored-to-be- _riduur_ and their little _ad_ out of the room. 

_Jetiise_ could feel emotions. Obviously, he'd sensed hers.

Wooley and Helix had stayed behind to try and explain.

_"It's just karking Force nonsense," Helix said with a roll of his eyes. His expression told her that he thought it was frustrating and ridiculous, but his body language screamed 'defend'. His feet were planted and his arms crossed._

_"The Force makes him see stuff. Possible futures," Wooley added apologetically. "The General gets them, too, though not nearly as much. As far as we can see, it's an awful ability to have because it makes you experience events that are incredibly violent or depressing. That whole billions dying comment was about a vision he had of a war that is coming."_

_Ardanna pursed her lips and frowned. That would be enough to drive even the most stable person a little mad._

_"The visions physically exhaust him, too," Helix said, picking the explanation back up. "When he collapsed the other day? It was from a vision. He couldn't get out of bed without help for a full rotation."_

_That did explain his strangeness, but somehow it didn't make her feel any easier. By all accounts, he appeared to be honorable and just. Yet appearances could be deceiving._

_"Is he well? Is he to be trusted with_ ad'e _?" she asked._

_Helix pressed his lips together and took a breath. "We trust him with Obi-Wan. He's aware that his visions can leave him unable to care for a little one, so he's got contingency plans in place for if something happens. When he's here, Master Dooku is looking out for him and the Cadet. Back at the Temple, the Cadet stays with the crèches. Is Master Sifo-Dyas alright in general?" He grimaced. "We're a little worried, but not enough to intervene just yet."_

_Wooley nodded, and then glanced at the door. "We need to get back to the others before they miss us."_

_Ardanna waved them off._

After that, Ardanna had spent several hours considering the situation. Working with the forge had helped her process it all in her mind. 

The _jetii_ was tormented by his powers. The _vod'e_ had mentioned visions to her just after the _jetii_ had collapsed days ago, but she hadn't realized how pervasive the problem was. He was holding up under the strain even though it clearly pained him. As curious as she found that, it wasn't truly her place to meddle with that and try to push him towards help. Wooley and the _vod'e_ trusted him with Obi-Wan, whom they valued more than anyone save their General. She trusted their judgement in that matter, so whatever was going on with the _jetii_ must be under control.

The situation merited continued observation even if it wasn't her responsibility to act as a guide for the _jetii_. What affected her _aliit_ affected her, so for the Mereels' sakes she would watch.

Still. Knowing that someone had fled her domain made her uncomfortable.

It had taken her much longer to puzzle that out. Ardanna had no problem intimidating others. Nor did she feel the need to temper her remarks for those unworthy of her respect. And the armoury was _hers_ , to invite others into or banish them from at will. But the _jetii_ had offered her no insult, and her disapproval had forced him out of the sacred space of her people -- and with him had gone his _ad'ika_. Because he had an affliction that he could not control, which did no harm to others. 

_That_ was the rub. Such behavior was unworthy of her. Her insult towards him was unintended, but that didn't make it any less real. The transgression didn't seem enough to warrant an apology, but after Wooley and Helix's explanation… she could do better. Honor came through action. This was the Way.

So when Master Sifo-Dyas returned -- trailing behind the _vod'e_ , an over-excited Obi-Wan, and more sedate Master Dooku -- Ardanna kept her emotions in check. She was surprised to see that he had returned, despite his previous discomfort. 

She would not be a discourteous host, nor would she repeat her previous blunder. 

Especially not when the _ad'ike_ were here specifically to listen to the history of Mandalore. 

Wooley had warned her that he would be bringing guests and that they wanted to hear the histories inscribed on the walls. To honor the telling, Ardanna had donned her _buy'ce_ and nexu quill stole. 

" _Jetiise, jet'ika, vod'e_." She nodded to them. "Come, and listen to the history of our people, so that it may never be lost."

Obi-Wan bounced over to her, holding his helmet in his arms. He and the _vod'e_ had all taken them off as they entered.

"Are there stories for all of the pictures?" Obi-Wan asked excitedly, bopping up and down on the tips of his toes. "Can we hear all of them?"

A smile curled across her face. It was strange to know that the _jet'ika_ would likely feel her pleasure at his request. 

"There are, little one. And more. The history of the _Mando'ad'e_ stretches back thousands and thousands of years. Only a few of our great battles are shown on these walls, and even then, telling the tale of every mural here would take weeks."

She turned her attention to the _jetiise_. As soon as she did so, both masters bowed to her.

"Thank you for allowing us to hear your history," Master Sifo-Dyas said. There wasn't a hint of anything other than polite pleasantness in his bearing.

"Education is vital, else we are doomed to repeat every mistake made before us," she said solemnly. "This is the Way."

"This is the Way," Wooley said. Most of his _vod'e_ echoed the refrain just after him, though slightly less confidently. Ben stayed silent. His expression screamed his hesitance. 

Some foundlings adapted to the Way faster than others. He would learn, in time. Ardanna was sure of it. 

She stepped over to the east wall of the main room and gestured towards the images there. Ancient warriors in full armour were depicted fighting enormous beasts amid lush foliage. 

"Many thousands of years ago, this world was a verdant, savage place. No sentient called this planet home, and mythosaurs dominated the land. A single mythosaur could grow as large as a city. All creatures lived in terror of it." 

She pointed at an image of a massive lizard. The beast moved on four legs and had a long, spined tail. Large spikes ran down it's back, and its enormous head was graced with several large horns; the two most prominent ones sprouted from the side of the head and twisted down and forward, following the line of the jaw. The mouth was gaping open to show an array of long, sharp teeth.

"Then _Te Sol'yc Mand'alor_ arrived, _Mand'alor_ the First, and with him, his followers. He and his people had been cast from Coruscant, long before the Old Republic had taken hold there. They wandered the galaxy for many years before finding this world and claiming it as their own. _Te Sol'yc Mand'alor_ and his warriors sought out the mythosaurs and slaughtered them all. Ever since, the mythosaur skull has been the symbol of our people, and the image that the _Haat Mando'ad'e_ , the True Mandalorians, use as their standard."

Ardanna flipped up the edge of her nexu quill stole to show off the mythosaur skull decal on her pauldron. 

"The capital city of Mandalore was once the city of Keldabe. The _Mand'alor_ 's original throne is there, and it is nestled in a mythosaur skull, preserved from _Te Sol'yc Mand'alor_ 's time."

Obi-Wan's eyes were as large as _beskar_ ingots, and the _vod'e_ looked nearly as enthralled. Even the _jetiise_ stood attentive, their gazes bright with interest. 

She resettled her stole and stepped around the room, walking slowly past images of some of the more ancient battles. 

"Mandalore's empire grew, until we held nearly all of the Northern Quadrant of the galaxy. We converted as we conquered. Species did not and does not matter, only adherence to the Way. Those who follow the creed are _Mando'ad'e_ , children of Mandalore."

She noted with some satisfaction that the light of understanding was starting to shine in the younglings' faces. Excellent.

Ardanna stopped walking and pointed up an image high on the wall of a warrior in full _beskar'gam_ facing off against a figure in _jetii_ robes with lightsabre blazing in hand.

"Mandalore is neutral. We bow to no ruler but our own, we serve no other master. But we occasionally have allies. For many centuries, the Mandalorians were friendly with the Great Sith Empire, even allies from time to time. So long as our goals aligned."

As one, everyone's gaze snapped from the image to her. Obi-Wan let out a small gasp.

"The Sith are driven by passion, as are Mandalorians. _Mandokar_ is the spirit that fills us, the will to dare, to strive, to _fight_." She clenched her glove into a fist, emphasising her point. "Those without this passion are soulless. _Mando'ad'e_ do not share the same creed as the Sith, but for many thousands of years, the _Mando'ad'e_ found more common ground with them than they did the _jetiise_ , who _seem_ void of the very passion that fuels our souls. Having seen Ben in battle, I see now that _jetii_ can be _mandokar'la_."

Ben turned bright red, and his _vod'e_ grinned.

She turned back towards the image. 

"So it was, that, four thousand years ago, during the Great Sith Wars, the _Mando'ad'e_ found themselves again at odds with the _jetiise_. Jedi Knight Revan defeated _Mand'alor_ the Ultimate and stole the _Mand'alor_ 's Mask, the sacred symbol of the unity of our people. This very mask was worn by every _Mand'alor_ since _Te Sol'yc Mand'alor_ , passed down from leader to leader for three thousand years. Its image is that which we still base the design of our _buy'ce_ on."

Ardanna tapped her helmet, pointing out the T-shape of the transparisteel view port.

"Without the mask, without a clear way to choose a leader, the tribes scattered and the Mandalorian Empire began to fall apart. It took many years for the mask to be found again. It was given back to our people by _Darth_ Revan." She turned to look at the _jetiise_ and tilted her head, curious as to their reaction.

"The Jedi Civil War," Master Sifo-Dyas said. "There was a schism, and Revan was at the heart of it. His history is long and controversial. He was a powerful Jedi Knight, who Fell and became the galaxy's most terrifying Sith Lord. Most histories claim that he eventually cast off his Darkness and returned to the Order. There are some conflicting sources. It was a very long time ago and a dangerous era for the Jedi Order. There is much we don't know."

"Force, Master Sy," Obi-Wan breathed out. "C'n I read about him when we get home? Are there books?"

"Or holocrons?" Ben added. "Surely, there must be some. I admit, I've briefly heard of the Jedi Civil War, but not the details, and nothing about Revan. It sounds fascinating."

Cody snorted and shook his head, and Waxer and Boil snickered quietly. 

"We'd lose them both to the Archives if we didn't keep an eye on them," Wooley said to Ardanna.

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled at Ben and Obi-Wan, and while Master Dooku didn't quite smile, his face was alight with amusement. 

"I'll see what I can dig up," Master Sifo-Dyas said. "There are holocrons, but due to their age and the skill required to use those stores of knowledge, access to them is restricted."

"Master Lene likely has many notes, taken for her own research into the ancient Sith Empire," Master Dooku added. "She might be willing to lend you a copy."

Ben looked positively delighted, and Obi-Wan hugged Master Dooku tight around the waist. 

"Thank you, Master Doo." Obi-Wan beamed up at him.

"You're welcome, youngling." Master Dooku stood stiffly in place, tense and awkward, and patted Obi-Wan on the head. 

Ardanna held back her amusement. From the way Master Sifo-Dyas' eyes crinkled up, he was doing the same. Crys just outright giggled.

"The mask was next worn by _Te Taylir Mand'alor_ , _Mand'alor_ the Preserver. Under his reign, Mandalore regained some of its power. This lasted for three more centuries, until the _jetiise_ and their Republic divided the _Mando'ad'e_ again, this time over who to support in the Great Galactic War. The Sith Empire, or the Republic. The faction supporting the Sith Empire won."

There was evidence that the faction that won was led by a sycophant or puppet of the Sith Empire, and that those seeking to support the Republic followed the legacy of _Te Taylir Mand'alor_ , but that would string the tale out on a tangent that Ardanna didn't quite want to delve into this morning. Perhaps later, if Ben was interested in learning more.

Ardanna began walking slowly around the room again, passing over many images. She'd thought long and hard about what to tell the _jetiise_ this morning, and decided to highlight their Order's long history of conflict with Mandalore. 

Which was why the next image she stopped at was of Tarre Vizsla. 

"Over the centuries, the might of Mandalore waxed and waned. Two thousand years ago, the Mandalorian Empire was drawn into the New Sith Wars. Conflicts large and small raged across the galaxy, and all suffered for it. The number of systems that Mandalore controlled dwindled, and the tribes were fractured by greed and conquest. Just over a thousand years ago, near the end of the Old Republic, there came to be a Mandalorian child accepted by the Jedi Order. Tarre Vizsla."

She waved up at the image. Tarre Vizsla was shown with his 'sabre held vertically in front of him, hilt in both hands with the blade pointed down as a sign of his protection and forbearance. He wore the long flowing robes of the _jetiise_. Armoured pauldrons and a chest plate were layered over the robes and he had a _buy'ce_ on, one of the older designs with a gently pointed top. The T shape eye opening was much larger than what was on a traditional _buy'ce_ and had no transparisteel covering; his face was visible and peaceful under his helm. 

"Tarre Vizsla was the first Mandalorian Jedi. He trained at the Temple in Coruscant and served the Order for many years, until he returned to Mandalore and reunited the tribes. He was _Mand'alor_ for many years, and our people prospered under his wise rule. So beloved was he that after his death, a statue was built in his honor here on _Manda'yaim_. It is to the west of us, and its features are so grand and stately that the image of our _jetii Mand'alor_ can be seen from miles away. When he died, his _jetii'kad_ , the Darksabre, was given back to the Temple on Coruscant, a place he still considered a home."

She turned to look at Ben and then switched her gaze to Master Dooku.

"You have both seen the Darksabre. It was because of Tarre Vizsla that it is a symbol of power and leadership for our people. Tradition is breathtakingly important to us. Many will follow the one who wields it, simply because it is in their possession. It is said that the Darksabre has a soul, as all _Mando'ad beskar'gam_ has a soul. Some believe that the unworthy are not capable of wielding it."

"Our lightsabres do have a… a spirit of their own, for lack of a better term," Ben said musingly. "It's the kyber crystals. They are powered by the Force and are at least semi-sentient. A crystal that does not approve of its wielder will fight against being used, causing the interloper to falter or stumble. The more powerful the crystal, the more prominent the effect."

This was information that Ardanna had never heard before. She knew that _jetii'kad'e_ were special. It was obvious with how the _jetiise_ treasured them. How exactly they were made was something of a trade secret, and she was curious as anything about it. Given what Ben had just said, it was likely that their Force guided them in the weapon's creation.

"You partner with your _jetii'kad_ the way _Mando'ad'e_ do with their _beskar'gam_. Appropriate." She nodded in satisfaction. 

It soothed something in her to find these similarities between them. Jaster Mereel was _Mand'alor_. She would follow him where he led, even if he chose to ally with their ancient enemies. This was proof that he was wise to do so.

Jaster was a good _Mand'alor_ , and Ben and his _vod'e_ were _mandokar'la_. They would bring glory to their _aliit_ and to Mandalore. 

"Affairs between Mandalore and the _jetiise_ did not stay on pleasant grounds for long," Ardanna said, continuing the story. "During the fall of the Old Republic and the end of the New Sith Wars, Clan Vizsla raided Coruscant and the Jedi Temple, and reclaimed the Darksabre."

Cody snorted and shook his head. "I bet Tarre Vizsla was thrilled about that."

"Right? If he left his 'sabre to the Temple, and then it was promptly raided and the 'sabre stolen back…" Crys said, trailing off. 

"An interesting point, _verd'ike_ ," Ardanna said with a tilt of her head. "One could argue that Tarre Vizsla would be most displeased, to see his home away from home desecrated. On the other hand, many have argued that the _jetiise_ would not properly care for the soul of the Darksabre, and that such a weapon belongs in the hands of those who would wield it for the benefit of Mandalore."

"The Temple armoury has a large store of ancient weapons," Master Sifo-Dyas said. "Lightsabres from past members of the Order are stored there." His eyes grew distant and he crossed his arms, sliding his hands into his sleeves. "They sing to each other -- all kyber does. These cry for the dead or hum of battles past. Of peace and love, or sadness and death. The 'sabres remember their creators, and very few of them agree to be wielded again."

"You've been to the ancient armoury?" Master Dooku asked.

Master Sifo-Dyas nodded. "It is the Temple Battlemaster's duty to care for the weapons there. Lightsabres need little attention, but many of them appreciate being remembered."

Boil and Waxer visibly shivered. Wooley swallowed hard. 

"As a High Councilor, I am allowed in such areas. I stop by from time to time. While many of the weapons there are benign, there are those that are not. Sith 'sabres and artifacts. Implements used by the Mandalorian Crusaders to kill Jedi. The Order keeps them so that they do not fall into the wrong hands, and so that we always remember. Some are simply too dangerous to destroy."

"What do you see when you look at them, _jetii_?" Ardanna asked, curious.

Master Sifo-Dyas blinked and took a short breath in, and then focused back on her instead of whatever nothing he had been looking at. "Many things, Armourer. Battles, past and future. The images of those who used those weapons. I am no specialist in retrocognition. My skills lie in seeing what is to come. But some psychic impressions are so strong that anyone with a touch of Force sensitivity would see them. If the Darksabre had stayed with the Temple, it would not have been forgotten."

"Would it not?" Ardanna countered. "A weapon locked away, unable to fulfil its purpose… is that not a type of loss?"

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled at her. "Oh, Armourer. Not all lightsabres are made to do battle, and not all 'sabres want to fight. While every Jedi is trained to fight, most of us find a greater calling in peace. The lightsabre reflects its creator. Perhaps the Darksabre wanted to be found, to continue to bring the Mandalorian people together." He smirked. "We'd have to find it to ask it."

As one, the _vod'e_ looked calculating. Ardanna would have bet her boots that they had already come up with plans for Pre Vizsla and how to find him.

"Once you do, you must tell me what it says," Ardanna said. It wasn't a request. This was an important part of their history and it deserved to be recorded. 

"It's either that, or ask Tarre Vizsla himself," Master Dooku said musingly. "He is one with the Force now. In theory, it should be possible to hear him."

"Presuming he wants to be bothered by questions," Master Sifo-Dyas said, looking at Master Dooku out of the corner of his eye. There was a very slight smirk on his face, as if he were laughing at a joke that no one else had heard.

"Of course," Master Dooku conceded with a gracious nod.

"Master Sy, Master Doo, can we really talk to ghosts?" Obi-Wan looked at them both with wide, astonished eyes.

Both masters smiled at the little one, though Master Dooku's expression was more reserved. 

"All things are possible with the Force," Master Sifo-Dyas said.

" _Likely_ and _easy_ are different matters entirely, however," Master Dooku added dryly. 

Ben snorted. 

_Sorcerers_ , Ardanna thought with a mix of amusement and exasperation. _Jetiise_ must just be like this, always with the twisting answers that only brought up more questions. She was certain that they did it on purpose. 

Ardanna waved them all on to the next image. This one was of fire and explosions; the image was specifically crafted to remind the viewer of those types of clouds that were only seen as a result of city killing bombs. The plants at the edge of the scene were burning and withering. Closer to the explosions there were skeletal trees and the suggestion of bodies. In the center, there was only smoke and a flat plane. 

"Not quite three hundred years after the Darksabre was returned to the _Mando'ad'e_ , this happened." She waved at the image. " _Dral'han_ , The Annihilation. After the Republic's Ruusan Reformation and the birth of the New Republic, the Mandalorian people flourished. We grew in technological advancement and martial strength. Once again our power began to stretch out over the northern reaches of the galaxy. There was no war, not yet."

She had to pause a moment to stop herself from grinding her teeth. The _Mando'ad'e_ hated the _jetiise_ for many reasons, but this by far was the biggest one.

"The Republic feared us. We refused to join them, refused to give up our ancient warrior traditions. We would bow to no other power. So the Republic called on the _jetiise_."

Ardanna shifted her gaze to her group of listeners, though she refused to single out Master Sifo-Dyas or Master Dooku. They were not responsible for the atrocities committed seven hundred years ago. The Children of Mandalore had long memories, and held a grudge far, far beyond the grave…

She took a slow breath.

But change must come to them all, at some point. _Mando'ad'e_ adopted all those who would follow the Way. These beings in front of her were honorable. Ben and his _vod'e_ were _Mando'ad'e_ already and Ardanna suspected it would only be a matter of time before Obi-Wan, Master Dooku, and Master Sifo-Dyas joined them.

"I do not tell you this story to shame you, _jetiise_ , but to teach you. This is what you must overcome while you are here. This is the injury that the _Mando'ad'e_ still hold in their hearts and on their honor. Enemies, we can learn to work with. Defeats, we use to temper our passion on. This assault _burned_ , and we _have not_ forgotten it.

"The Republic called on the Jedi Order and their own judicial forces, and they preemptively attacked. _Manda'yaim_ was not the only planet to be turned into a wasteland by that strike, but it was the last. The _Mando'ad'e_ had no chance. We were crushed utterly and swiftly, ground into dust before we could dream of becoming a threat. The warrior tribes were destroyed, and any survivors were disbanded and cast out, our teachings hidden away. The Mandalorian Sector was put under occupation, and the New Mandalorians swore to uphold peace at any cost, and thus eventually took control back from the Republic. So it has been for seven hundred years. Our history has survived in shadows and whispers, and the Way was nearly lost."

Ardanna paused to take in how this information had struck her listeners. The _vod'e_ looked sickened, but not surprised. Ben looked resigned, and Obi-Wan heartbroken. Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku were grim, but did not object. 

"The _Mand'alor_ risked much, allowing _jetiise_ to come here," she said quietly. "It has been long enough that, perhaps, the children of Mandalore are ready for something new to grow between our two peoples. Many do not agree, but many others are tired. Their spirits burn for all the glory and prosperity that we once had. Mandalore will never join the Republic."

She tilted her head to take in Ben and Obi-Wan. "But. Perhaps there might be some common ground with the _jetiise_."

A small smile stretched across her face as she thought of the whole group training in the yard together, _vod'e_ and _jetiise_ working together, _verd'e_ watching and talking of new techniques that could be learned. 

Two different warrior tribes. _Mando'ad'e_ and _jetiise_.

"We have a common ancestor," she said. "It is not so far fetched that we might unite our tribes, as the _Mand'alor_ unites the _Mando'ad'e_." 

She stretched out her arms, encompassing all of the images on the armoury walls with that one gesture. "History waits to be written, _verd'ike_. Hold in your hearts the dream of the future that you desire to see, and step towards it with unyielding dedication. Foundlings are the future. This is the Way."

\--


	47. Chapter 47

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

Ardanna's history lesson had been extremely enlightening. More so than Yan ever expected it to be. He had, of course, studied the Jedi view of events, what little they had records of. The Mandalorians _had_ often sided with the Sith. The insight about how it related to passion and the Mandalorian belief about the soul was something he hadn't heard before. 

Much of the detailed information on those conflicts were restricted, available only with a Jedi Master's access code. Padawans got an abridged version of events and were only allowed to delve deeper with their master's permission. 

Even the information on Tarre Vizsla was not well known, though it was available. The Order interacted with _so many_ peoples and sectors, singling out just one was often a case of individual interest in the subject. Yan found himself curious about the details. 

The Mandalorian take on the destruction of Mandalore was not unexpected. Republic historians called it the Mandalorian Excision, as if the attack was a preventative surgery. 

Force, but Yan _did not_ like how much the Jedi Order was at the beck and call of the Senate. This was _exactly_ the type of action that he suspected the Order would inevitably be forced into in the future. The Senate was a corrupt conglomerate of self-important grifters. 

Yan brooded on this as Ben, Obi-Wan, and the _vod'e_ chatted amongst themselves about what they'd learned. 

Sy stayed right at Yan's side, his Force presence leaning into him in a comforting way.

Discontentment swirled in Yan's mind. He attempted to release it to the Force. _Attempted_. 

There was another brush against his shields; a nudge from Sy. 

Yan took a slow breath and exhaled his upset. Then he reached out with his mind and allowed Sy in.

He got back a wave of love-concern-worry. 

Yan sent him a mental rumble of, _I'm fine_.

_You're being grim_ , Sy sent back.

_For good reason, my dear High Councilor._ Yan shook his head. _It is similar, too similar, to what I see now. How much farther will the High Council allow the Senate to push them, us, the whole Order?_

The answer that Sy gave him left Yan cold, with all the anger swept right out of him.

_Much, much farther than you suspect_ , Sy thought at him. His mental presence was distracted and there was a distance to his words that told Yan that he was thinking on things that he'd seen. 

Yan looked at Sy sharply and stretched out his senses. There was just the barest hint of swirling in the Force around Sy.

There was a Sith on Coruscant. Sy's visions had told them that the Sith was already there, that a war was coming, and that the Order would break. A throne built on dead Jedi, that was what Sy had seen. 

How far _would_ the Senate push them? Right off a cliff, it seemed. 

_We cannot let this happen_ , Yan thought to Sy.

That brought some of Sy's attention back to the present. _Let?_ Sy huffed in amusement. _It's going to take everything we have to even make a dent in stopping it._

Yan was struck by the aching desire to do something, anything. He was not a man prone to standing idly by. Inaction frustrated him. 

While they had been thinking at each other, Ardanna had shifted to stand next to Yan.

"How did you find the lesson, Master Dooku?" she asked. Her Force presence was calm and held only mild curiosity. He could tell that she was controlling her emotions quite rigidly. It was impressive. Why she would do that, when she hadn't seemed to bother to do so in the past, was curious.

"Educational, Armourer Ardanna. We thank you for sharing your wisdom." He bowed his head to her. 

She nodded back. 

"You should have given them more time to rest," Sy said to her quietly.

"What?" Ardanna's helmet turned to focus on him.

Sy nodded towards the younglings. They were all talking quietly amongst themselves, and there was an intensity to that conversation that was worrying.

"They've been… adrift, the last couple of months. Attempting to regain their equilibrium. Now they will go back to fighting. Which isn't entirely bad, but…" Sy shook his head and looked at the floor. "They are so battle weary already, and this next handful of years will be the most peaceful any of us will see for a long time."

A cold chill settled in Yan's bones. Those words had the ring of prophecy to them.

Ardanna kept tight control of her emotions, to the point where Yan could only feel polite interest and a curious kind of blankness that came with those who were natural shielders. 

"How bad will it get?" Yan had to ask.

"Terrible," Sy said. His voice sounded so damn distant that he almost seemed to be talking from another room. There was an _absence_ to him, his mind totally elsewhere. "I cannot see the end of it, not yet. The choices haven't yet been made that will give us a hope of surviving."

Yan wanted to run out of the room and take Sy with him. He wanted to protect his dear one from whatever was coming, stop whatever nightmare Sy saw in their future. 

He couldn't do anything of the sort. 

He was as bound to his duty to the Light as he was bound to allowing Sy to do his duty as he saw fit. It chafed against him, this passivity. 

Ben looked up sharply at Sy, with Helix and Wooley doing the same a heartbeat later. 

Sy blinked and took a breath. "I would wish that we all had more peace before it comes," he said quietly.

"Master Sy?" Obi-Wan asked, finally catching on that something was going on.

Yan put a hand on Sy's back between his shoulders. A comforting gesture, and the others would take it as just that. What it really was, was Yan keeping Sy from falling over. He could feel a faint tremble along Sy's body as he fought off whatever he'd seen.

"I'm fine, little one," Sy said. He rubbed his hands across his forearms under his sleeves, as if he was cold and his normally tawny skin had taken on an unhealthy pallor. "Nothing to worry about."

Obi-Wan didn't look consoled. 

Sy gave him a tiny smile. With how their minds were still linked, Yan could feel how the effort cost him. Without a second thought, Yan fed energy into him, giving him an extra boost that would keep him going until they were done here.

"Right," Helix said flatly. 

Yan snorted at his blatant disbelief, and amusement filled Sy's Force presence. 

"Join me, _jetii_ ," Ardanna said, walking over to sit at her work table. 

Sy blinked at her in surprise.

_Ah_. That was why Ardanna was being so neutral. The last time they'd been here, her discomfort of Sy's abilities had been palpable in the Force. Sy had hurried them off to lunch rather quickly after that. She must have noticed. 

Clearly, she'd decided to rectify her behavior. Her invitation to sit, phrased in such a way as to not single him out for weakness, was a gracious one. Whether or not that meant that she was truly repentant or if she was simply lulling them into a false sense of security was hard to say.

It mattered very little right this second. Yan guided Sy over to one of the stools at the table with light pressure on his back. Sy went without hesitation.

"Thank you," Sy said with a nod towards her, which Yan echoed. When Obi-Wan looked like he might join them, Sy shook his head. "Go ahead and keep chatting with your _vod'e_ , little one. We only have a few more minutes before we should go start your morning lessons, and your _vod'e_ have things they need to do, too."

Yan kept his hand on Sy's back as they sat down, and used that physical connection to help anchor Sy's mind. He was still reeling internally.

Unsurprisingly, Helix detached himself from the group and wandered over to check up on them. The rest of them watched, but didn't join him.

Sy sighed as he approached.

"I'm quite alright, Helix," he said, sounding both surprised and fond. 

"No disrespect intended, Master, but 'I'm fine' is Jedi for 'I have internal bleeding'." Helix glared at him and made a 'gimmie' motion with his hands.

Ardanna snorted. Yan had to smirk. Helix wasn't that far off from the truth.

After a short moment of pure bafflement, Sy figured out what Helix wanted and held out a hand to him. Helix deftly took off one of his own gloves and slid his bare fingers along Sy's wrist, checking his pulse.

"It wasn't a full vision," Sy said soothingly. "I didn't see any details. I was just… edging around the outline of the future."

"That's a thing you can do?" Helix asked, sounding distracted. Whatever he was picking up from Sy's pulse clearly wasn't worrying him _too_ much.

"Sometimes." Sy shrugged. "It depends."

"How much time do we have?" Ardanna asked solemnly. 

"What?" Sy looked at her in confusion. 

"Before what you saw comes. How long do we have to prepare?"

That got everyone's attention. The others drifted over to the table. Ben looked like he was expecting to hear that disaster was imminent. Cody and the other _vod'e_ were all business, their full attention on Sy and Ardanna, listening closely to what was said. Cool. Analytical. Assessing the situation with the intent to plan.

Sy grimaced. "As much as I dislike this saying, the future is always in motion. I can't tell you when. It changes too frequently. A trillion decisions made across the galaxy can shift what will be, and relying on foresight as fact will only lead you to making foolish mistakes, especially for visions that are so vague."

"Do you have a worst case scenario?" Cody asked.

Yan bit back any reply he might have made. It was Sy's choice to answer these questions or not, even if the attempt to discern those answers left him more vulnerable and weak. 

At least the _vod'e_ were inclined to pay attention to whatever it was that Sy had Seen. That was half of the battle with the High Council. 

Sy's mouth twisted up, his expression pained and unhappy. "There's so much of it, Cody," he said quietly. "I haven't seen it clearly yet. It's..." 

He struggled for words, and Yan poured his own strength into him. His trembling eased. Helix still hadn't let go of him, though now he was simply holding Sy's hand. Another unlooked for point of friendly connection. Yan could feel how grateful Sy was for it.

"The Dark could come for us within this decade... or bide its time for several," Sy said after a moment. "Either way it is good and bad. Sooner means the deaths start faster and we of the Light will have less time to prepare. It also means that the Dark will make more mistakes. Later, and --" He shuddered. "Later we will be more prepared, but the Dark will have nearly perfected their plans. It will be so very much harder to survive. For anyone to survive."

Yan could see the edge of what Sy was thinking. A distant echo of millions of voices all crying out in the Force at once, followed by terrifying silence. 

His gorge rose at even that brief whisper and he swallowed hard.

"You are all so closely entwined with this," Sy said with a poorly held back wince. "Force, you must have given Mace the headache of a lifetime with all the shatterpoints around you."

Ben huffed in sardonic amusement, and Crys grinned weakly. 

Sy shook his head. "I am relatively sure that we'll have at least a handful of years before events begin moving quickly."

There. Another flash of _something_ in Sy's mind, something of pain and heartbreak, so quickly shielded away that the only reason Yan saw it at all was because they were still linked.

That was something that Yan would definitely have to ask about later. Now was not the time.

"I don't have anything useful to tell you right now. And it's just _so big_." Sy shrugged helplessly.

"Can you --" Crys started.

Boil stopped him with a smack to the back of the head. "Give him a minute, _vod_."

Sy smiled at them. "I'm alright. I'll tell you if I see anything actionable for you."

"Thank you, Master," Cody said gravely. "We do appreciate your efforts."

Obi-Wan crawled into Sy's lap, squeezing in between the table and Sy's body to do so.

"Obi-- hey!" Sy complained half-heartedly. There was a hint of a smile on his face.

"You need a hug," Obi-Wan said with a disgruntled frown. 

The _vod'e_ snickered as Sy was hugged very aggressively. 

Slowly, joy chased away the shadows in Sy's mind. A little more color returned to his face, and because of that, some of the lung-crushing worry fled from Yan as well.

"I feel like you're just trying to get out of leaving to go study your letters," Sy said with a sly look down to Obi-Wan. 

"Hugs are way better than letters," Obi-Wan said in a tone of voice that implied _obviously_.

Sy let out a quiet cackle, and Waxer ruffled Obi-Wan's hair. 

"That means it's definitely time for your lessons," Yan said, faux-sternly. 

"Awwwwwwwwww," Obi-Wan groaned quietly.

"Sooner started, sooner finished. Come." And the sooner he could get Sy settled in a comfortable chair with some tea. Several of the _vod'e_ gave him a knowing look, clearly catching his purpose.

Yan urged Obi-Wan out of Sy's lap despite Obi-Wan's continued quiet noises of complaint.

"We thank you for your time and courtesy, Armourer Ardanna," Sy said. He stood up slowly but was steady on his feet, and the three of them bowed to her in thanks.

"It was my pleasure to offer knowledge to ones so worthy of hearing it." She nodded back to them, but didn't rise.

Despite how interesting their visit was, Yan still breathed a sigh of relief when they were in the hall and on their way.

\--

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

Hearing Ardanna speak of the ancient history of the _Mando'ad'e_ had been fascinating. Hearing her talk about the Mandalorian tendency to ally with the Sith had been worrying.

Hearing her speak of the destruction the Order had brought to Mandalore on the Republic's say-so...

Ben had to bite down on a scowl.

That story had hit home, hard. He'd known the broad outlines of what had happened. That the Jedi Order had somehow been responsible for turning the planet into a desert. But what Ardanna had given him in the way of new details...

He'd have to meditate on it later. Just thinking about it was making him want to storm the Senate building and shout at them until he had some answers.

His _vod'e_ had found new resolve in her words, too. They had very much taken to heart her words about building the future they wished to see, and Ben knew there would be no way he could sway them easily. If he wanted to, he would have to be karking persuasive. Meaning, he'd have to have a plan that the _vod'e_ could all agree was better than their own and agree to implement.

Ben watched as Ardanna bid Obi-Wan, then Masters Sifo-Dyas and Dooku goodbye, then immediately began Wooley's lesson.

Taking the opportunity to think, Ben left the task of listening carefully and asking questions to his _vod'e_. He couldn't claim to be immune to the effects of Ardanna's words, himself. He'd already been planning to put as much of a spike in the Sith Lord's wheel as he could manage while he was stuck here in the past, and that speech had only firmed his own resolve.

Once she was through with Wooley's lesson, Ardanna had assumed that they were through for the day. That much was obvious. She'd all but dismissed them, brusquely asking, "Did you have any further questions?"

"One, yes," Ben answered, and got her full attention.

"Ask, little general," she prompted him.

" _Buir_ has consented to allow me to try to set up a pilot project on that square of sand that he's not using, but I don't have the required knowledge to do it on my own," he said, and watched her have to quickly adjust for a topic she hadn't expected.

"And what knowledge do you lack?" Ardanna asked, voice nearly as dry as the sand outside the biodome.

"How to make glass," he told her, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a smirk, at her look of surprise.

Her eyes narrowed a little. "Hmm. And you believe I can help you with that? I am an armourer, not a glazier, _jet'ika_."

Ben felt his _vod'e_ carefully keeping quiet, watching, amused, as he and Ardanna matched wits. He nodded, conceding the point. "I am well aware of that, Ardanna. It isn't _your_ assistance I would have in this, save in finding the expert who can help me."

"Ahhh," Ardanna relaxed again. "Glass... That is far less the province of our artisans than other media. _Mando'ad'e_ are far more drawn to metals, but perhaps we can find you the expert you seek. I do not personally know any such artisans, but it is possible that one of my contacts does."

"If you would ask them to put such an artisan in contact with me, I would be in your debt," Ben replied, very deliberately phrasing the request that way.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Ardanna gave him a curious look. "You're proposing to owe me a second favour? And this does not worry you?"

"You support my _buir_ and my _vod'e_ ," Ben pointed out. "You maintain as much neutrality as you can, and I have yet to hear from anyone at all that you would so much as consider asking something unreasonable of them. So, no."

" _Mando'ad'e_ repay their debts," Ardanna replied, jabbing at him verbally, "remember that, little general."

"If you are concerned I will not want to or will not be able to repay mine, tell me what you are likely to ask of me, and I will tell you whether it is within my power to grant," Ben countered, knowing just how important personal honor was to the _Mando'ad'e_.

That got him a smile, and he knew he'd passed whatever test that had been. "Well spoken, _jet'ika_. Alright, I will try to find you the artisan you seek. What you will offer me in return, I am not certain yet, but I suspect that whatever interesting new material you develop could be useful to me."

"If you wish to have some samples to experiment with, I'd be happy to bring you some," Ben agreed immediately. "I'd been planning to target the market for medical devices and possibly the market for private speeders. The new glass should make for good shielding against high energy radiation, assuming it behaves the way I think it will."

Ardanna's eyes widened. "That kind of technology should stay in-sector, first," she said firmly. "Then you can consider exporting it. Do not give away an advantage like that before you have armed yourself with it, _jet'ika_."

"I'm with Ardanna, General," Cody interjected, looking intrigued.

Wooley added, "Something like that could have interesting applications in places like our buckets' visors."

"Well-spotted, apprentice," Ardanna agreed. "That was my thinking as well. Now, I have several jobs that I must finish before the late meal."

Taking that as the dismissal that it was, Ben nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Ardanna."

The eight of them took their leave, and headed back to their suite to join their _buir_ and Jango for the noon meal, as had become their habit. Masters Sifo-Dyas and Dooku and Obi-Wan joined them, as well, and the little one chattered happily about the stories behind the murals throughout the meal.

Their _buir_ encouraged it, clearly amused by the youngling's interpretation of certain events and images. Jango did much the same, while the two Masters watched indulgently -- perhaps even fondly -- and occasionally posed a question of their own about the history or the art itself.

And then with a suddenness that was almost startling, their meal was over.

Ben decided it was time for a change of topic. "Obi-Wan," he asked, "was your armour easier to move in, today?"

The youngling made a slightly frustrated face. "A little, but it still feels weird."

"Did the chestplate come loose again?" Wooley asked him.

"It did, but Master Sy fixed it," Obi-Wan answered. "It's just... _weird_."

"It is, Cadet," Waxer agreed. "It took us a while to get used to it, too, remember?"

Ben felt it when, in an unexpected move, Waxer offered the little one a snippet of memory, of his own frustrations with his armour when he'd first gotten it -- Ben had to fight not to smile at the image of Waxer, then about the same size as Obi-Wan and scowling -- and how long it had taken him to finally get the hang of moving in it.

Obi-Wan, immediately picking up the memory and turning it over in his own mind, compared it to his own experiences, and relaxed. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "You all said that, but it's different."

"Not the same as you imagined it?" Ben asked, knowingly.

"No," Obi-Wan answered, then sighed heavily. "How did you pick it up so fast, Ben?"

"I didn't," Ben answered drily, making Master Dooku raise an eyebrow at him.

"It certainly looked like you did, from the outside," his grandmaster put in, clearly angling for something.

"Appearances can be deceptive, Master Dooku, as I've reminded you before," Ben replied serenely, feeling the hint of a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth. "I've grown used to picking up new skills as quickly as I possibly can, yet it still took me several weeks to really feel comfortable wearing _beskar'gam_."

"Perhaps that was because of the massive adjustment to your fighting style that it represented," Master Sifo-Dyas pointed out.

"There is certainly an element of truth to that, Master Sifo-Dyas," Ben conceded. "But my _vod'e_ and I are used to being under the sort of time pressure that a war breeds. If you cannot adapt to a new situation -- and fast -- you're as good as dead."

That sentence made his _buir_ 's expression go tight and unhappy -- upset by the reminder of the future they'd come from, no doubt -- and Ben almost regretted voicing the words despite the truth in them.

Cody nodded. "The General's not wrong about that," he said, his voice going almost weary, and Ben found himself wishing they could stay here, in this past that was somehow so much better than their present, in their own timeline. "We had to do much the same during our training."

Jango growled something savage under his breath that Ben couldn't make out, then said, "That was then. None of that applies here and now."

The _Mand'alor_ nodded. "There is no longer a war you are obliged to fight."

Obi-Wan looked up at him, expression solemn. "It's okay to relax sometimes, Ben," he said.

That made all of the _Vod'e_ tense up a little.

"We're not used to relaxing, Cadet," Boil joked, the words ringing rather truer than Ben knew he'd meant them to.

Masters Sifo-Dyas and Dooku exchanged a significant look, but said nothing. Their _buir_ briefly looked and felt like he was tempted to storm off to Kamino and blast a few buildings to rubble, before he got himself back under control. Wooley gave him a sidelong look, then refocused on the conversation when the little one spoke up again.

"That's okay, _vod'e_ ," Obi-Wan answered, deadly serious. "We can work on it. I'll show you how."

"Yeah?" Waxer asked the youngling, "How do you plan to do that?"

Obi-Wan grinned back at him. "I'll tell you later."

Helix snorted. "Trying to make us curious, Cadet?" He asked, looking a bit skeptical.

"Is it working?" Ben asked him, in turn.

"Not yet," Helix said, but Ben could feel that he wasn't about to say no to Obi-Wan out of hand.

And if he could, so could Obi-Wan. The youngling cocked his head, considering Helix, then added. "How about now?"

Crys laughed, feeling like he was playing keep-away with the little one in the network. "Try again, Cadet."

Obi-Wan considered that, then nodded. "I know. We'll play a game."

"What game?" Jango asked, apparently more willing to play along than the _vod'e_.

That got him Obi-Wan's full attention, and a bright grin. "The one Master Sy showed me, last rotation." 

Master Sifo-Dyas looked almost delighted by this turn of events. "The meditation game?" he asked Obi-Wan.

Ben had to bite his lip not to snicker at the looks of near-dismay on each trooper's face. They all looked like they weren't sure whether to be intrigued or wary.

"Yeah, the one where you have to imagine fun things," Obi-Wan agreed.

Ah.

That one was a staple at the Temple. He hadn't used it much with Anakin, who'd decided early on that it was dumb and he didn't like it. Ben had wondered at the time if Anakin was being teased for playing games that other initiates mastered at a much younger age. He’d looked into it, with limited success, and had chosen other activities for Anakin to increase his skills with. His _vod'e_ had no outside disapproval to colour their appreciation of the game, only Obi-Wan’s boundless enthusiasm. They also were incredibly creative. While Anakin was a technological savant, able to think up unorthodox solutions to difficult mechanical and algorithmic problems, the _vod’e_ were incredibly imaginative, and could spin entire stories out of the smallest observed detail.

The network reflected their growing curiosity about this game, now.

"You... imagine fun things?" Longshot asked him.

"It is a variation on the meditation that begins with the construction of the image of a place the practitioner feels at home or calm," Master Sifo-Dyas explained when Obi-Wan took a few seconds too long to figure out how to phrase his answer. "We use it to teach the younglings in the crèches. They very often find it far easier to create a new image to focus on, than to recreate one in as much detail as is required."

"What kind of image do you like to create, Cadet?" Wooley asked him.

"That's easy," Obi-Wan said, his tone making it clear he thought the answer to that particular question should be obvious. "Hawk Eyes making things go _boom_."

Cody flinched in the network, a sharp pang of homesickness going through him, but he recovered admirably quickly. "That does sound like something Rex would do," he agreed.

"So Captain Rex is your favourite, huh?" Waxer prodded the little one. "I thought I was."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You're _all_ my favourites, Waxer."

Ben heard a quiet snicker and glanced over to see Jango and their _buir_ stifling their amusement as best they could.

"You won't win against the _jet'ika_ ," Jango told Waxer. "Just surrender now."

Waxer drew himself up, but Boil shrugged and agreed. "Just because we know the outcome of a battle before it starts doesn't mean we won't put up a fight."

That was certainly true.

"But why're you fightin' _me_ , _vod'e_?" Obi-Wan pouted at the _vod_ and Ben fought not to laugh, himself, as Waxer and Boil all but melted.

"Yes," Ben asked, just to see the looks of consternation on their faces as they fought to find an answer that wouldn't upset the little one, "why? I thought you were all more or less alright with the idea of meditation, now."

"More or less," Helix agreed. "But the 'less' is what's bothering us."

"Oh?" Master Sifo-Dyas turned to look at Helix, now curious, himself. "Are you still struggling to find your center?"

Helix shook his head. "It's more just... well, somehow every time we've tried anything involving meditation as a group, _something_ unexpected has gone sideways."

That, Ben had to admit, was also true. "Maybe so, but you've also overcome every last one of those obstacles, _vod'e_. Including my own mistaken assumptions."

Master Dooku gave him a disbelieving look. "What does that mean, Ben?"

Suddenly realising he'd given away rather more than he'd strictly meant to, and faced with the question of just how much they were comfortable telling the two masters, Ben hesitated. He looked around the table at his _vod'e_ , silently asking them what they wanted to do. They'd been speaking quite freely until now, but this crossed over into much more private territory, given that it had to do with their network and the associated old traumas.

His reaction gave both masters and his _buir_ pause. None of them had expected that, clearly. All seven of his _vod'e_ also visibly hesitated, then, one-by-one, they turned to Cody, leaving the decision to their Commander, not just because he was their ranking officer, but also because it affected him the most directly.

Cody thought it over for a moment longer, then shook his head. "That's a story for another time, Master Dooku," he said, looking the intimidating Master in the eyes. "Suffice to say, a lot of bad old memories came up."

The response got him a nod. "As you wish, Commander."

All seven _vod'e_ relaxed, and -- somewhat to Ben's surprise -- so did Obi-Wan. He hadn't realised the youngling had gotten quite that tense.

"Bad memories, Cody?" Obi-Wan asked. "Like in my dreams?"

Ben hid a wince and bit his tongue. He wanted to think his answer to that one through before he even attempted to reply.

He didn't need to, as it turned out. Cody -- never so afraid that he wasn't willing to plunge headlong into danger, took a steadying breath -- then said, "Not _exactly_ , Cadet, but close enough. I'd rather not talk about them, though."

Obi-Wan considered that. "But talking about my dreams makes them less scary. Doesn't that work for yours, too?"

Force. The mix of bemusement-pain-fondness coming from Cody was making Ben's fist clench, under the table and safely out of sight.

"It does, Cadet, but that's a very private thing," he answered gamely. "You only talk about your dreams to those people you feel comfortable with. I do the same." He looked over at Ben, and offered a rueful half-smile. "There just haven't been a lot of people I could count on like that, until recently."

Ben swallowed hard against the way that made his throat go tight. He wasn't sure quite what Cody meant him to understand, but he knew it was important.

"Oh." Obi-Wan accepted the statement, mulled it over, and then turned to Master Sifo-Dyas. "Master Sy, can we stay for a while after the meal, please?"

Master Sifo-Dyas nodded. "Ask your _vod'e_ ," he answered. "I see no issue, here."

Wooley caught his eyes, silently asking him if he knew what was going on, and Ben had to shrug. 

Cody met his troopers' eyes, going down the length of the long oval table to his left and then up the other side, and got a round of nods. "Alright, Cadet," he said, shaking off his somber mood as best he could and Ben felt him shoving his memories back into their box. "You're planning to make us play that game, aren't you."

"Noooooooo?" Obi-Wan tried to hide his smile and failed.

"We need to work on your ability to evade that sort of question, little one," Master Dooku told him.

"That wasn't a question, Master Doo," Obi-Wan objected.

"It did not look like one, but it was," Master Dooku replied simply, then caught Cody's attention and let a hint of a smirk tug at the corners of his eyes. "The Commander is quite good at using them effectively."

Ben didn't miss the flash of surprise and pleasure the compliment sent through Cody, and nodded, adding his own two credits. "Cody is, without a doubt, the finest officer I have yet had the pleasure of working with."

That only intensified what Cody was feeling, making Ben smile.

Waxer sighed, exasperation lacing his voice and echoed in the network, and got unsubtly elbowed by his _riduur_. Crys and Helix snickered at them both, making Wooley and Longshot exchange a slightly pained look.

"So come on, _vod'e_ ," Obi-Wan started tugging at Cody's arm for emphasis. "Let's play the meditation game!"

Boil huffed. "You going to tell us how to play, Cadet?"

"It's easy," the youngling declared. "You make a picture in your mind, 's clear as you can, an' then you share it with everyone playing the game."

"One tradition at the Temple," Ben put in, "is to try to make everyone else laugh by coming up with something utterly ridiculous."

He watched his _vod'e_ exchange looks and smirk.

"Pretty sure we can do that, sir," Waxer replied.

Obi-Wan beamed at them. "You're my _vod'e_ and can do anything," he said, approving.

Jango snorted, but he looked amused. "Maybe this would work best in the sitting room," he suggested.

"We would be fine here," Ben agreed, "but that would be rather more comfortable, I'll own."

"Then let us get settled," Master Dooku said with a nod, "so that Obi-Wan can demonstrate the process for his brothers."

The little one beamed at Master Dooku for the suggestion. "That's a great idea!" He said, and tugged at Cody's bracer. "Come on, _vod'e_!"

Ben had to shake his head and smile some more, watching as his troopers folded like wet flimsiplast in the face of their Cadet's enthusiasm, despite their general dislike of group meditation.

This might be the perfect way to ease the seven of them into doing meditations together, in light of their previous experiences, he reflected, as he watched Obi-Wan harry the _vod'e_ until they did as he wanted and arranged themselves in a rough circle on cushions on the floor. Helix looked bemused, and Longshot mostly curious. Crys, who seemed to be developing a taste for havoc to rival any of the troopers of the 501st, had a smirk on his face that said he was looking forward to trying to make his _vod'e_ laugh. The others were watching Crys and looking almost resigned. 

Once his _vod'e_ were seated -- Obi-Wan had rather predictably made sure that Waxer was on one side of him and Cody on the other -- Ben and Master Sifo-Dyas joined them. Helix pointedly gestured Ben into the open spot next to Cody, and Master Sifo-Dyas beside him.

Without a word, Master Dooku perched on the arm of the sofa, whose cushions had been scavenged for the game, and caught Jango's eyes, then their _buir_ 's. "Come, join me," he invited them. "I will assist Master Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan in setting the scene, then explain what they are doing."

Oh, Master Dooku narrating what they were doing for their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ would make this all the more entertaining. Ben bit his lip. The _vod'e_ were sure to attempt to force Dooku to say something absolutely ridiculous, now, rather than make each other laugh. Or, no, they'd try for both.

That gave him an idea. Closing his eyes and letting himself relax, preparing himself for the game, Ben had to work not to smirk. He was fairly sure he knew how to make his grandmaster laugh. He felt Master Sifo-Dyas' presence settle beside his, brushing ever so gently against his shields, still cautious but friendly, and reached back, offering a light brush of his own in return. Then he felt Obi-Wan join them as the little one automatically followed their lead, and saw the youngling enthusiastically share his knowledge of the game with his _vod'e_ in the network, offering up his memory of it and the feeling of carefree laughter that accompanied it.

"You're familiar with how meditations work, now, _vod'e_ ," Ben said aloud, as they accepted the memory and smiled fondly at the enjoyment their Cadet and their General had for such things. "Would you like one of us to guide you, for this?"

Wooley, who had already joined them, didn't answer verbally, simply sidling up to Ben in the network and offering him an affectionate squeeze of one shoulder through their bond.

"I think we can manage it," Longshot said after a beat, and, gradually, one by one, the seven of them did.

Ben had to smile, proud of the lot of them. His men truly were the finest the GAR had ever produced. "Well done, _vod'e_."

"Well done, indeed," Master Dooku said in a murmur, then joined in, himself, his presence meshing smoothly with Master Sifo-Dyas' with the ease only years of practice could grant. "Shall we begin?"

"Me first, please, Master Doo!" Obi-Wan requested, getting the equivalent of an encouraging nod and a small indulgent smile in the Force, and the youngling's presence brightened with the intense focus he devoted to creating his image. Ben took the time to prepare his own, adding as much detail as he could muster, and then holding it back.

Ben was entirely unsurprised by the image that Obi-Wan shared a few seconds later. He suspected it was something cribbed out of a dream or a vision. It reminded him of one of those drawings that the youngling had sent his _vod'e_ , just prior to his arrival on Mandalore. An older, teenaged, Obi-Wan pelted hell for leather towards the position Ben and his _vod'e_ were holding, hand-in-hand with Captain Rex, as something big exploded violently behind them in a manner Ben reflexively associated with the 501st Legion, and Torrent Company, in particular. Obi-Wan was defending Rex as they ran, and taking full advantage of the covering fire the _Vod'e_ were providing him. Ben himself featured pretty prominently, wielding two 'sabres as he deflected the return fire that was coming at his _vod'e_ and Obi-Wan.

Cody, who Ben knew missed Rex like he would his armour or blaster, made a sound like he'd been gut-punched, and Helix immediately reached out to put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Master Dooku quietly described the image to their _ori'vod_ and _buir_ , but the murmur of his voice, low, even and rhythmic, didn't so much as make a ripple in the still-mostly-tranquil atmosphere of the room.

Without acknowledging Cody's reaction, Master Sifo-Dyas offered up a next image -- part distraction, part amusement, part demonstration -- and made Ben snicker. That was Mace, several decades younger than Ben had known him until he'd wound up here in the past. Probably only a few years younger than he was now, in fact. What was great about the image, though, was the absolutely ridiculous hairstyle. Ben wasn't sure whether he believed that this had ever happened. The Mace he knew was far too dignified to ever sport a hairstyle nearly a span high, even if was neatly shaped. It reminded Ben of Senator Amidala's intricate and overly ornate headdresses, for all that it was very simple, and looked like one of his troopers' tight regulation haircuts, just... taller. Much taller. 

Master Dooku chimed in with an image Ben would have thought beneath his dignity. It was amazingly funny in its minimalism. A rancor with a pair of those freely rolling eyes that were usually only found on cheap toys and never quite seemed to look in the same direction.

Obi-Wan giggled brightly, setting off Longshot. 

Ben smirked, having prepared his own image ahead of time, and shared it with everyone in the room. Master Dooku all but choked on his next breath, and Master Sifo-Dyas outright cackled.

Apparently, he'd caught them both by surprise, sending them the image of Master Yoda as a tooka. The patterns of the feline looked surprisingly fetching on the tiny master, in Ben's own opinion, and the pointed ears of the animal matched Yoda's own in approximate size and shape. Ben let his smirk have free rein and added a few more details to his image. A collar with a bell on it -- because why not poke just a little bit more harmless fun at his great-grandmaster so long as he didn't have to fear any consequences -- and someone's lap for Yoda to curl up in. That got him more outright laughter from Sifo-Dyas and an incredulous snicker from his grandmaster.

Cody, who had met Master Yoda a few times, joined them, and Obi-Wan giggled harder.

Pleased with what he'd wrought, Ben sat back on his heels and waited.

After he'd gotten himself under control, Master Dooku took the time to explain to Jango and their _buir_ what was going on, as he'd promised.

And, sure enough, now that he'd shown it could be done, his _vod'e_ wanted to try to pull that off themselves. He could feel the hint of calculation in the network, as they reconsidered the images they'd been about to share. Most of his men decided to stick with what they'd been planning to share, after a moment's contemplation, but Ben could feel Crys' decision to change his. The _vod_ all but radiated his anticipation and glee, and Obi-Wan was watching him with barely leashed curiosity.

When Crys stayed quiet, Longshot gave the impression of a shrug and shared his own image -- one of himself dunesurfing on Tatooine on a bantha rather than a speeder -- and got snickers out of just about all of the _vod'e_ , along with an amused snort out of Master Sifo-Dyas.

_A swing and a miss_ , Ben thought to himself with a snicker of his own.

Helix's shared image, bright with laughter and colour of its own, featured Boil buried under a pile of cadet _Vod'e_ and utterly failing in his attempts to get free as they cheerfully painted his white plastoid armour in various hues using their fingers. Just about all of the _Vod'e_ laughed at that one.

Boil chuckled, too, acknowledging in the network that that was surprisingly plausible, and fired back with an image of Anakin in bright pink robes and scowling darkly. Behind him, Ahsoka was laughing hard enough to have to lean on a snickering Rex, and, walking beside Anakin, Ben was doing his best to keep a straight face even as he teased his former padawan about his new look.

Ben couldn't _quite_ stop himself from laughing. His padawan had gotten himself into some spectacularly funny scrapes, at times, and though that one was entirely fabricated, the image rang true.

Wooley stepped up next, offering them the image of Helix's armour occupied by a human-Zakkeg hybrid. The medic's face was dark with a scowl, his spikes and horns poking out through the gaps between his _beskar'gam_ armour plates and he was glaring at a smirking Ben, who was turning to flee, after having apparently poked that sleeping gundark hard enough to wake it.

Helix snorted, then laughed, replying with a sense of _that's-about-right_ and _yeah-you-better-run_. Master Sifo-Dyas snickered, too, and Ben could tell that Master Dooku shook his head a bit ruefully, before going back to what he was doing, speaking softly to the other two people in the room.

And, Ben realised, only Cody and Crys had yet to share their images.

Well, this promised to be _entertaining_ , given Crys' recent tendency to make his _vod'e_ want to hide their faces in their hands.

Cody took the initiative, though, and what he picked made all of the _Vod'e_ \-- and Master Sifo-Dyas -- cackle. Ben joined in the laughter as the image registered fully. 

Master Dooku stared down at Obi-Wan, a panicked _what-do-I-do-help_ expression on his face, as Obi-Wan looked up at him with pleading eyes and asked him for something, presumably wanting to play some game. In the background of the image, Ben, Master Sifo-Dyas, Jango and the _Mand'alor_ stood watching and snickering.

Boil outright dropped out of the meditation entirely because he had to fight for the breath to keep laughing. Waxer followed him in short order, the pair of them leaning against one another, tears at the corners of his eyes. 

That was his Commander all over. Karking brilliant in the best ways. But, Ben knew, sharing that particular image was an invitation for _trouble_. One didn't just poke fun at someone like his grandmaster with impunity. Not where he could see it, anyways. He himself had been reasonably confident that he could lampoon Master Yoda to them in good fun, but this...

The next image to take shape was very clearly a response to Cody's and made Ben fight desperately not to blush, even as he knew it was a lost cause. Cody outright choked.

Ben had no idea how to react to the fact that it had been _Master Dooku_ who'd just sent them all an image of him karking princess carrying a starry-eyed Cody into what was presumably their bedroom. They were both adults, and clearly besotted with each other, and the rest of the _Vod'e_ were off in the background polishing off the remains of what looked like a marriage feast. The implications were karking obvious, and Ben froze as they registered fully.

Obi-Wan all but cheered, and Waxer and Boil joined him. Helix simply projected his glee-approval.

_Kriffing sith-hells._ Ben tried to regain his equanimity, knowing that his face had to be bright red, and all but shoved as much of what he was feeling as he could manage into the Force rather than just releasing it. That was his grandmaster, openly telling them all that he thought Ben and Cody were together and would stay that way, that they were attached enough to-- to-- He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, which felt a bit tight. 

At least, he consoled himself, Cody wasn't much better off. He felt dazed and almost mortified.

Crys, Force bless him, took advantage of that moment of stunned amazement to share his own image.

It didn't matter that he'd been expecting something of the sort from this particular _vod_ ; Ben still almost couldn't believe what he was witnessing. The rest of the _vod'e_ lost their grip on the meditation, their laughter too much for their attempts to concentrate. Master Sifo-Dyas simply laughed harder, the sound carefree, for all that it held a note of disbelief. This time Master Dooku blinked, and -- almost reluctantly -- allowed himself to laugh with them.

Where in the name of all that was holy Crys had come up with the notion of sending them an image of Master Fisto prancing through the Temple on Coruscant in nothing but a _very_ skimpy loincloth and wearing a truly ridiculous number of bows in his head tentacles, Ben had no idea, but it was extremely effective.

When Crys had spent enough time around Master Fisto to know what he looked like under his robes, was another open question, but Ben decided he didn't want to ask it. That way lay gossip that he wasn't prepared to listen to.

Master Sifo-Dyas caught his breath a moment later, and brought the meditation to an end for himself, helping Obi-Wan back out of it, and keeping an eye on Ben as he followed them back up.

"So, all in all, that worked out rather well," Ben quipped dryly, and then raised an eyebrow at his grandmaster. "Was that really necessary?"

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

Rather than sit on a de-cushioned armchair, Jaster grabbed one of the chairs from the dining area to sit next to Master Dooku to watch the meditation. Jango followed suit. 

"Are you sure you're interested in sticking around?" Master Dooku asked quietly as Master Sifo-Dyas and the younglings got settled on the floor.

"Yup," Jaster said with a nod. "I'm not gonna get a lot of what's going on, but they're my _ad'ike_. I'm interested in the things that are important to them. Plus, I'm curious," he added with a grin.

"Is it possible for non-Force sensitive people to get these kinds of mental images?" Jango asked.

"It is, though it is very difficult. Meditation helps, and the more powerful the Force user who sends them the more likely the image will come across cleanly," Master Dooku explained. 

Something about that struck Jaster oddly. 

The _vod'e_ had been keeping their Force sensitivity a secret, as well as their bonds to each other. From the way Dooku explained it, this meditation shouldn't even be possible without them.

Master Dooku glanced over to him and then smirked in dry amusement.

"Yes, I'm aware of their… unique situation," he said very quietly. "And no, I won't be telling anyone about it. No doubt Master Sifo-Dyas has already guessed at it, himself, from this exercise and Obi-Wan is very young and does not yet know the meaning of the word discretion. Master Sifo-Dyas and I will keep the little one from misstepping."

Jaster eyed him warily. "Why?"

"Aside from the fact that they do not wish this to be common knowledge and it is only right to allow them their privacy?" Dooku raised an eyebrow at him. "If Ben were a part of the Order, I might be able to wrangle keeping quiet, but Master Sifo-Dyas would be obliged to tell the High Council. But that is a moot point. Ben is not part of the Order."

"But Obi-Wan is," Jaster pointed out.

"That is true. When and if Master Sifo-Dyas is questioned on the details of Obi-Wan's time here, I am confident that he will uphold Ben's wish for privacy."

"But you just said that he would be required to tell the High Council if someone in the Order had… stuff like this going on," Jango protested, speaking low. 

Master Dooku looked at him mildly. "So I did. Master Sifo-Dyas will likely explain to the High Council that Obi-Wan has met and connected with his family, and that we have overseen all aspects of this visit and deemed the level of attachment not inappropriate or unhealthy for a child his age. Worse comes to worst, and he will explain that it was the will of the Force, and that Obi-Wan's commitment to the Order is unwavering." 

"He's five." Jaster frowned at him.

"Five year olds aren't super great at being committed," Jango added.

"And yet do you doubt his commitment to the Order?" Dooku asked archly.

Jaster and Jango exchanged a look. 

It was clear as day that the kid was adamant that he would be a Jedi Knight, and already the little one was ridiculously persuasive. 

"It will not come to that," Dooku said soothingly. "Master Sifo-Dyas knows how to handle questions from the Council, and he will make sure that Obi-Wan is safe in the Temple." He looked at the group on the floor, and a little crinkle of worry formed on his brow. "He will have to make a choice when he reaches his padawanship, though. To continue in the Order, knowing full well that he must always downplay his connection to his brothers, or leave and train here with Ben. I cannot say which would be better for him, and he is too young yet to fully understand the ramifications of such a choice."

"The Order would just let him go?" Jaster asked sceptically.

"My dear _Mand'alor_ , we are not slavers. If it is Obi-Wan's truest desire to leave the Order or he finds himself unable or unwilling to follow the Order's tenets, then of course he can leave. We would make sure that he has a safe place to go, though in this case that is already a given."

Jaster chewed on that thought for a while. He honestly hadn't expected that. Any of it. Not that Sifo-Dyas would shield the little one from their Council, nor that the Order would freely let the kid go. Things could get sticky if Obi-Wan decided that he really wanted to stay in the Order and the Council decided that he shouldn't be there, but maybe that was a hurdle that they would wait to jump until it arrived. 

"It will be tricky to navigate, to be sure, but not impossible," Dooku said as he watched the group settle into meditation. "There are many options available to him, and to us."

"You will keep me informed," Jaster ordered. Obi-Wan wasn't his _ad_ , not officially, but he might as well be. 

Master Dooku smirked at him, a now familiar wry twist of his lips that meant that he understood and acknowledged all the flaws in the given statement but was going to go along with it anyways. "Of course, _Mand'alor_."

Master Dooku turned his attention back to the group and a curious sort of stillness settled over him.

"Well done, _vod'e_ ," Ben said quietly.

"Well done, indeed. Shall we begin?" Master Dooku said, pitching his voice to carry quietly to the group. 

"Me first, please, Master Doo!" Obi-Wan looked like he was about to vibrate in place from all his contained excitement. 

Silence fell over the group. Most of them sat with their eyes closed, focused on whatever Obi-Wan was mentally sending them.

Then Cody made a low, pained noise. Right away, Helix had a hand on his shoulder, keeping him upright and offering support. Ben winced and the rest of the _vod'e_ looked like they couldn't decide if they wanted to laugh or cry.

"What was that?" Jaster asked as quietly as possible. It felt weird to talk while they were all thinking at each other.

Dooku answered in a very soft murmur, just loud enough to be heard. "Obi-Wan sent them something he dreamed of, I believe. Something that hasn't happened yet. An older version of himself and another _vod_ , his other favorite who hasn't been… grown yet. They are fleeing an explosion, hand in hand. Ben is there as well, helping Obi-Wan guard their retreat. Apparently, the destruction was a planned event, because Obi-Wan and his companion both look quite pleased."

Jaster blinked. 

That didn't imply great things about the future. No wonder Cody was upset. It was clear to Jaster that he missed his other _vod'e_ something fierce. 

Then Dooku's wording filtered through. 'Grown'. 

Dooku knew, or at least suspected, that the _vod'e_ were clones.

Kriff. Jaster wanted to groan. That was only going to get more obvious as they grew up. They already bore a striking resemblance to Jango. What would happen when they hit their late teens and 'striking resemblance' turned into 'kriffing identical'? 

At least Dooku didn't seem to be overly concerned about the possibility. 

Kriffing kriff. Jaster would figure out how to deal with that mess later. He had time.

Ben suddenly snickered, and Dooku cracked a more amused smirk. 

"Master Sifo-Dyas sent an image of Master Windu from his youth, with a… slightly exaggerated hair style."

Jaster raised his eyebrows. Windu was one of the Masters who'd come to test Ben. The bald one. 

"Back then, his hair was cut so that it was very close to his head," Dooku continued. "The image Master Sifo-Dyas sent has it shaped to be very, very tall and very flat on top. Like a table."

Jango's shoulders shook with silent laughter and Jaster found himself grinning. Damn, he wished he could see that.

"My turn," Dooku said softly, as if to himself.

Two heartbeats later, Obi-Wan and Longshot dissolved into giggles.

"One of my favorites," Dooku explained. "The image of a rancor with those spinny googly eyes." He waggled his fingers around as if to demonstrate the spinning of the eyes.

Jaster sputtered quietly.

"The kriff did that come from?"

"A childhood in the crèches," Dooku answered dryly.

Then he choked on a laugh of his own, while Master Sifo-Dyas chuckled. Dooku eventually just fell into snickering while Cody and Obi-Wan giggled along with him.

"Master Yoda," Dooku said, wiping his eyes. "My master and also Grandmaster of the Order. His species is small and green, with large pointed ears. Ben very expertly imagined him as a tooka." Dooku had to pause to laugh quietly. "With a little bell on his neck!"

Ben looked smug as hell, and Jaster did not blame him. So far he'd had the best luck at making the _jetiise_ lose their cool.

The _vod'e_ all started snickering, and Master Sifo-Dyas snorted. 

"Longshot has sent an image of him…" Dooku paused and raised his eyebrows in bafflement. "Bantha surfing? Down a sand dune?" He shook his head.

Jaster snorted. "Not so much imagination as wishful thinking, huh?"

"So it seems," Dooku answered, dry as dust. 

There was giggling back and forth, coming in waves.

"Helix sent an image of Boil happily buried in children and being fingerpainted within an inch of his life--"

"That bodes well for the _aliit_ ," Jango said with a snicker.

"--And Boil responded with a picture of a Jedi knight I have not met, dressed in bright pink robes, and scowling so hard he might break something." Dooku paused. "This must also be a memory, or a modified one, because that same _vod_ that Obi-Wan was thinking about is there too, with a Togruta padawan, both laughing themselves sick. There is an older version of Ben in Jedi robes with a few pieces of armour layered over, teasing the young knight."

_That knight must be his old padawan, the one with the temper. Skywalker_ , Jaster thought. 

He was glad to see that the image made all of the younglings laugh rather than get mired in loss and sorrow. Before he could comment on it, there was another wave of giggles.

"This was from Wooley, of Helix as a humanoid reptile blend. All spikes and attitude peeking out from around his armour. Ben is very properly running away from this fearsome version of the medic."

Jaster and Jango both cackled at that, finding it just as funny as the rest of the _vod'e_ did.

Then the quiet snickering and giggles that had been going around the circle turned into outright roaring laughter. Boil and Waxer fell over onto each other, gasping for breath. Even Master Sifo-Dyas was laughing.

Master Dooku was giving Cody an extremely unimpressed look. Not that Cody noticed, he was too busy nearly tearing up from how hard he was chuckling.

Jaster gave Dooku a sideways look.

"It seems the Commander decided that poking fun at one's elders was an appropriate pastime," Dooku said with open disdain. 

Jango covered his mouth with his hand, keeping the grin down. 

Jaster didn't bother. He openly leered at the _jetii_. "Spill."

"He sent an image of one of my less composed moments with young Obi-Wan, where I was perhaps not behaving with the calm collectedness that my experience and rank would denote." 

"Ahh, the _buir_ panic," Jaster said with a knowing nod.

"What?" Dooku looked at him.

Jaster just grinned and slapped Dooku on the back. "Happens to the best of us, _jetii_."

"Hmmm. Well. These games are in part created to help teach children about the rules of polite mental communication." Dooku turned his attention back to the group still falling all over themselves laughing. "Such as, do not start a fight you can't finish."

There was a brief lull in the laughter, and then both Ben and Cody turned beet red. Obi-Wan, Waxer, and Boil cheered and the rest of the _vod'e_ grinned like sharks. 

"What was your counterstrike?" Jaster said, verbally prodding him into a response.

"An image of Ben and Cody after their inevitable marriage, with Ben happily carrying Cody off to the bridal suite."

"Ha!" Jaster almost rubbed his hands together with glee. It looked like the _jetii_ was on board with getting those two together, too. The pining was ridiculous. If they didn't swear the _riduurok_ once they were old enough to consider it, Jaster was going to lock them in a room until they sorted their _osik_ out. Assuming their _vod'e_ didn't get there first.

Then any sense of composure the group had was totally lost. They all started cackling so hard that they were crying. Even Dooku was outright laughing. Crys just looked on like he'd just won the pot at a competition sabacc game.

"Oh _Force_ ," Dooku breathed out.

"Don't leave us in suspense," Jango said. If it had been a _verd_ he was talking to, Jaster was sure that Jango would have poked him in the arm to prod him into answering.

"No wonder Crys was asking about Nautolans. He sent us an image of Master Kit Fisto, one of the Jedi High Councilors, and a _very_ friendly individual. He was dancing around the large garden in the Temple, wearing only the smallest of underclothes, with his head tentacles festooned with bows." 

Dooku's shoulders shook in silent laughter.

Jaster shook his head, but he had to grin. "Kriff, Crys," he muttered. 

"I think the funniest part is, I could see Master Fisto actually doing that." Dooku covered his face with his hand and cackled quietly.

"I'm learning so much about the Jedi Order today," Jango said, deadpan. 

That just caused Jaster and Dooku both to lose it. 

"What?" Jango protested. "No one ever says that the space monks are sex fiends."

" _Sex fiends_ ," Dooku repeated with a breathless laugh. "Force, no one told me that Mandalorians were such prudes."

"Hey now, I protest that accusation." Jaster tried to sound stern but he couldn't keep himself from laughing. _Prudes_. Kriff. 

By that time, the laughter had died down and the younglings were setting themselves to rights. 

"So, all in all, that worked out rather well. Was that really necessary?" Ben asked Dooku, with one eyebrow raised.

Dooku sniffed and smoothed down his robes, mirth still apparent in his expression.

"You learned this when you were a crècheling, Ben. Just as there are forms of politeness for the spoken word, so are there for mental communication. If you'd poked fun at someone with an ill-timed joke, you would expect them to return the favor, yes?"

" _I_ didn't poke fun at all." Ben gave Dooku a slightly pissy look. 

"Ah, you are correct. You have my apologies, Master Kenobi." Dooku nodded to him gracefully. "I will keep my barbs to more appropriate subjects."

Ben sniffed, but his eyes were crinkled up in amusement. Cody was still sporting a bit of a blush, but he was smiling, too. 

"Once initiates master this skill, images are spontaneously cast between them. It's a game in the crèches," Master Sifo-Dyas explained. "I must insist that if you all decide to do this that you save your images for appropriate times. The meditation is a lesson in and of itself, but this is also a method to teach kindness. The mind is a wonderful tool, and an infinite number of scenarios can be imagined. Remember that those you share your creations with are people, too, with hearts and past experiences that you may not be familiar with. Just as mean-hearted gossip can cause an incredible amount of distress, so can unkind thoughts spread to others."

Master Sifo-Dyas was mostly watching Obi-Wan during this little speech, but it was spoken to the group. Honestly, it was something that hadn't even occurred to Jaster. Once it had been pointed out, it was obvious. Of course mocking images might hit different people differently, even if offense wasn't intended.

"An excellent reminder, Master Sifo-Dyas, and one I will keep in mind myself." Master Dooku nodded to his most-likely- _riduur_. 

The _vod'e_ looked faintly surprised, both by what Master Sifo-Dyas had said and by Dooku's willingness to be chided into better behavior. 

Maybe he was just trying to set a good example for the little one. That seemed likely. But looking at Dooku, he couldn't be sure. Perhaps the Master did regret his teasing.

"Be cautious of what you send to another person, and _when_ you send it. The Temple crèches are safe enough, but you are all warriors and are frequently put in a position of great scrutiny. To use this exercise as a method to deliberately embarrass someone else would be cruel."

"We wouldn't," Cody objected hotly.

"We know better," Helix added with a frown. The rest of the _vod'e_ looked offended.

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled warmly at them. "I know. But would you give a blaster to someone who'd never fired one without warning them of the damage it could cause? So I will give you the same instruction that I would give any that I taught this exercise to. Mindfulness is critical for one who can use the Force."

Some of the younglings' irritation melted away and they nodded at that. 

Jaster was almost sad that he was going to miss the mental jokes that the _vod'e_ would inevitably toss back and forth. 

Maybe he could bribe them with cookies to keep him in the loop.

\--


	48. Chapter 48

\--- POV: Sifo-Dyas ---

This by far was one of the stranger experiences that Sifo-Dyas had taken part in since he'd arrived on Mandalore. 

He and Doo were standing on the sidelines of the training yard, waiting for some of Jaster's warriors to show up. Sifo-Dyas had read the reports and talked to Doo about that first assault on the Death Watch mining encampment. He knew that a group of Mandalorian younglings had been rescued along with Longshot and Crys. 

He shouldn't have been surprised when Jaster had mentioned that the rescued children all wanted to meet up with Longshot, Crys, and the rest of their brothers. He'd offered Obi-Wan's regular afternoon training time immediately, once he'd seen how all the younglings had perked up at the idea of a meet up. Obi-Wan had unsurprisingly been curious and promptly gotten invited along as well.

Sifo-Dyas had just exchanged a knowing look with Doo; no doubt they would be fielding questions from a group of anxious parents while the younglings all mobbed their rescuers. 

Jango joined them for the afternoon as well, though Jaster had business elsewhere. 

Jaster's second in command showed up first, being trailed by a gangly teen in _beskar'gam_ that had been freshly painted in a bright gold with black and red accents. They both had their helmets off. Longshot and Crys lit up as soon as they saw the young man.

"Falin!" Crys said, waving.

"Crys! Longshot!" the young man grinned at them and jogged over, only to wrap them both up in a hug. 

Darist ambled over to where Sifo-Dyas, Doo, and Jango stood.

"Is this where the _buir'e_ get to hang out while the _ad'e_ chatter?" she said wryly.

Doo choked a bit, which he gamely attempted to turn into a cough. Sifo-Dyas just looked at her. He was fairly sure that _buir_ meant 'parent', but maybe he'd misunderstood.

"I'm afraid that Master Sifo-Dyas and I are not parents, simply masters of the Order," Doo explained.

Darist rolled her eyes towards him in a manner that suggested she thought he was full of the largest load of banthashit she'd ever seen.

"Uh huh," she said flatly.

"Neither of us has taken Obi-Wan as a padawan, an apprentice," Sifo-Dyas said, in an attempt to help bail Doo out of this pit that they were both sinking into. "He's not old enough yet to become a padawan. He lives and studies with his agemates in the crèches."

"I see." Darist smirked at them, like she didn't buy what he was saying for a minute. 

Sifo-Dyas did not sigh. He didn't need foresight to know that this conversation was going to repeat itself every time another parent showed up.

Force, he was mingling with parents at a younglings' afternoon gathering. He slipped his arms into his sleeves in the well-beloved and time-honored tactic of Jedi everywhere who wanted to look more comfortable than they actually were. 

Doo mirrored him. It was going to be one of those afternoons. 

Before Darist could say anything else, two more warriors trickled in with two younglings in tow. There was more hugging among the children and Sifo-Dyas overheard several happy exclamations of how well everyone looked. Obi-Wan bounced around all of them, excited as anything.

Eight. There had been eight other children found in the mine with Longshot and Crys. As much as it had saddened Sifo-Dyas to read what had happened to them, he hadn't been overly surprised. The galaxy was filled with people who routinely committed such atrocities. 

At least this group had been saved and were well on their way towards healing and having better lives. 

The rest of the visiting younglings showed up in ones and twos, with a parental figure or guardian at their side. The adults all came to stand near Sifo-Dyas and Doo, though he noticed that they kept Darist between them. That, too, was to be expected. The Jedi did not have a fabulous reputation among the Mandalorians. 

He didn't sense any hostility from them, thankfully. Just mild wariness mixed with curiosity. 

Every time a new youngling showed up there was another round of hugs. Introductions were made all around and all the Mandalorian younglings cooed over Obi-Wan’s new gear.

 _Armour really is integral to them_ , Sifo-Dyas thought with some amount of wonder. 

"Maybe you should get a little durasteel of your own, Master Dooku," Sifo-Dyas muttered to him, while motioning towards the _beskar_ clad younglings. "If you're going to be playing the role of ambassador here, it might help."

"I'll let you explain that one to the High Council," Doo answered him dryly.

"Pssh, let Qui-Gon tell them. He loves riling them up."

Doo cracked a small smile.

"Qui-Gon is your _ad_ , yeah?" Darist asked. Clearly, they weren't speaking quietly enough.

"My second padawan," Doo said smoothly. The rest of the adults were listening with interest. "My first was Master Rael Averross. Both of my former padawans are training padawans of their own now." He spoke with subtle pride, and Sifo-Dyas smiled along with him. 

"Oh? And you, Master Sifo-Dyas? You have any… padawans?" Darist asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sifo-Dyas shook his head. "I do not. My Force abilities are very strenuous for me, and I am quite busy with my position as High Councilor. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to give a student all the attention that they would deserve." He brightened up and smiled lightly, encompassing both Doo and Darist in his gaze. "All Councilors are required to spend time in the crèches teaching the little ones, and I often lend my expertise to Master Dooku, when he and his padawans spend time in the Temple. So I have my chance to teach."

"And they are the better for it," Doo said. "I certainly didn't have the patience to teach Rael court manners."

Sifo-Dyas huffed in amusement. "How you managed to find not one, but _two_ padawans who both didn't share your love of poise and elegance, I will never know." 

Doo just glared at him sourly. "They are excellent swordsmen."

"A credit to your teaching," Sifo-Dyas said, just innocently enough to tease.

Darist cackled quietly and shook her head. "We already met the one, and his _ad_. He really stuck his foot in the _osik_ here."

Doo winced a very tiny bit, and Sifo-Dyas kept his expression polite. Doo had explained the various blunders that Qui-gon and Xanatos had managed to get themselves into here.

"Qui-gon is a good man," Sifo-Dyas said, smoothly coming to Doo's rescue. "If perhaps a touch heavy-handed at times. Unfortunately, I haven't had the pleasure of spending much time with his padawan, so I cannot speak to his behavior. But he's young, and he makes mistakes as all young things do. I am sure that their time here was a learning experience for them."

Darist hummed at him, but didn't object. The Force around her and the other Mandalorians was filled with their mixed emotions. Anger and fear being the strongest. They weren't raging, though. Just a bit unhappy. It was curious. Sifo-Dyas could only thank the Force that his and Obi-Wan's presence had clearly had some positive effect on the situation.

"That's the hardest part of being a _buir_ ," one of the other adults present said. Another woman in _beskar'gam_ , tall and solidly built. "I've got four _ad'e_ , including Rav," she waved at the younglings, pointing out her own, "and it doesn't get any easier. They're gonna act like _di'kut'e_ from time to time no matter how well you try to teach them."

The gathered adults all snorted or chuckled quietly. 

"That's the damn truth," an older man in full armour muttered.

Anger and fear smoothed into rueful acceptance. 

"It's infinitely more frustrating when the wayward child can throw a speeder across a city block with their mind," Doo bitched quietly.

Sifo-Dyas laughed. "Force, it's worse when they can see what's going to happen before it does. We both know I was a terror as a youngling, and Obi-Wan is going to be just as bad, I'm sure of it."

"Ah, he has your sterling example to follow, Master Sifo-Dyas," Doo said with a smirk. 

"I pray he never gets involved with pranking." Sifo-Dyas shook his head. 

"But you were so good at it," Doo said with wide-eyed harmlessness. "I don't think the crèchemasters ever caught you, most of the time."

A slow, wicked smile curved across Sifo-Dyas' face. No, they surely didn't. He'd been very, very clever with his pranks. "There's still one trick left in the Temple, waiting," he confided. 

"And when will it be properly found?" Doo asked, amused.

Sifo-Dyas closed his eyes and _reached_ with his mind. "Hmm. If we aren't all dead in twenty years, it'll be found then."

The air of quiet amusement turned back into anxious alarm.

Kark. This was why he didn't have any friends.

Doo, bless him, just ignored the awkwardness and huffed in amusement. "You're ridiculous, Master Sifo-Dyas."

 _Might as well play along_ , Sifo-Dyas thought with some resignation. He gave Doo a mock offended look. "Brilliant. Brilliant is the word you were looking for."

The strained silence that followed the exchange was tiring, but not unexpected. Sifo-Dyas kept his expression serene as he watched the younglings examine every bit of each other's armour.

"Master Sy, Master Sy!" Obi-Wan bounced up to him and grabbed onto his arm. "Come meet my new friends! I told 'em that you're really good with a 'sabre _'nd_ a blaster, 'nd you know _tricks_. Can you come show them, please?"

He looked up at Sifo-Dyas with wide, pleading eyes. 

"Give in now," Doo whispered to him. "Before he asks me."

Sifo-Dyas cackled, and let himself be led off. "Too bad you're going to miss all the fun, Master Dooku," he teased as he was slowly dragged away.

"I believe I'm getting the better end of the deal, Master Sifo-Dyas," Doo said very seriously. "Good luck surviving show-and-tell."

Sifo-Dyas wanted to shoot back how he would make sure that Doo was next, but he didn't have the time. Obi-Wan had already pulled him into the group.

This, at least, wasn't totally unfamiliar. Ben and his _vod'e_ were known quantities. The other younglings weren't as hesitant about Jedi as their parents were. 

Introductions were made all around, and Sifo-Dyas carefully tucked away their names in his mind. Something about them was nagging at him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Can you really shoot a blaster and use a _jetii'kad_?" one of the littlest boys asked.

"I can. All Jedi are taught to use many weapons. You never know when it will come in handy." Sifo-Dyas paused, thinking. "I don't know that I've ever tried to do both at the same time, though."

"It can be done," Ben said confidently. "Depending on the lightsabre form used."

"Will you show us?" One of the older girls asked. 

That was followed by a chorus of, "Yes, please!"

Because of course they wanted to see it.

"I'm not sure that's wise," Ben answered with a smile. "I think if we pulled 'sabres now, your _buir'e_ might get worried."

"No way," the oldest boy said, Falin. "I mean, maybe a little, because _jetiise_ , but we've all seen the holovids. Seeing a _jetii_ in _beskar'gam_ is amazing, and Darist told me stories about what Master Dooku did to get into the mine to save us."

"My _buir_ said that he stood in front of the _verd'e_ and just soaked up all the blaster fire, and then he ripped the mountain open with a thought," one of the little ones said in a hushed tone.

"That's what the report said," Sifo-Dyas said with a shrug. He wished he could have seen it. Doo was marvelous when he fought. "Given what I know of Master Dooku, I believe it." He nodded back to where Doo stood surrounded by adults and looking grateful for it.

"We should thank him," Tani, an older girl in dark blue armour said. 

Sifo-Dyas smiled at her, charmed. "It is our duty to help those who are in need, when we can."

Her expression grew harder. "We can still thank him. Come on."

She led the whole herd of them over to Doo, where they promptly mobbed him with a hug.

Sifo-Dyas slammed a hand over his mouth to keep the laughter in. Doo's _face_. It was perfect.

He looked like he was being attacked but couldn't figure out how to escape without causing a diplomatic incident. The _vod'e_ were giggling like maniacs and Ben was grinning like mad. 

The younglings all tried to thank Doo individually. Every time it looked like he might escape the hug, he got another one from a different child. 

Sifo-Dyas stepped over to Crys.

"I want copies of whatever holos you and Jango take of this," he said quietly.

Crys tried to give him an innocent look for a whole two seconds, before saying, "Alright, fair."

Sifo-Dyas gave them another minute and then headed over to save Doo.

"Did you all want to see some blaster tricks?" he asked, immediately catching their attention. "I think Ben and I will be able to work something out, if he and his _vod'e_ care to help."

The children cheered and almost bull rushed back towards him and Ben. That earned him a relieved look from Doo, and a wordless thanks brushed up against his mental shields.

Having run classes in the crèches before, Sifo-Dyas was more than ready to organize this group of younglings. Children, even teenagers, were infinitely easier to deal with than adults. Any strangeness that Sifo-Dyas exhibited they were usually willing to just brush off. 

He quickly split them into groups, with Ben acting as his assistant and the _vod'e_ providing blasters for them to use as well as opposing fire. Happily, all of the younglings had armour on already so all Sifo-Dyas needed to do to ensure their safety was encourage them to put on their helmets and give a nod to Doo, who stepped forward to keep a mental eye on them.

First, he and Ben ran through a few demonstrations of trick shots.

"How are you that good at blasters when you don't even _like_ them?" Isabet complained. She was the youngest of the group, and clung the closest to Crys and Longshot.

"Practice. Lots and lots of practice," Sifo-Dyas explained. "Also, the Force guides our movements. We know where to shoot and how to move, because the Force tells us."

"Well that's _osik_ ," Mij complained. 

Sifo-Dyas gave them a grave look. "It comes with a price, never doubt that. Using the Force takes energy -- quite a lot of it in fact. It's easy to exhaust oneself without meaning to. A Force user can rely even more on the Force to sustain them through that, but it means the burn out afterwards is worse. The power is dangerous, too. It takes skill and years of practice to control, and even more to use it in stressful situations."

"With that power comes the duty to act," Ben added. "We must use the gifts that we have to help others. More often than not, we can feel when that help is needed and the Force urges us into action."

"And you do this while fighting?" Falin asked. He'd clearly been in enough altercations to realize how exhausting they could be.

"Yes," Sifo-Dyas said simply.

"So when Ben lifted us out of the mine, and then fought some more…?" Tani asked. She was only a couple inches shorter than Falin, and if Sifo-Dyas recalled, she was one of the ones who'd taken injuries to keep Crys and Longshot safe.

"Yes, it cost energy," Ben said with a nod.

"But--"

"There wasn't any other way, not with the time that we had," Ben said firmly. "The priority was to get you all safely to the surface."

"Are they gonna come back?" Cort asked. He was the smallest of the boys, and had glued himself to Helix's side. "Death Watch?"

The mood grew somber. Sifo-Dyas had been expecting something like this to happen. These children had been through horrors and examining if they were likely to happen again was part of dealing with that experience.

"We have done everything in our power to make sure that they do not," Ben said. "We believe we've killed or captured most of them."

"Most?" Isabet asked, her eyes large and suspiciously wet looking.

"My _buir_ said that Pre Vizsla escaped," Falin said. "And he's probably got a few _verd'e_ with him. But we're with the _Haat Mando'ad'e_. They aren't gonna let anything happen to us."

"That's right." Ben nodded and smiled at them reassuringly. 

The Force twisted around Sifo-Dyas. The training yard was gone, the palace was gone. Not destroyed; more like the vision had taken him elsewhere. Years sped by in an instant as Sifo-Dyas scrambled to take stock of what he was seeing. 

These younglings, all working together to teach others, so many others. Assassins sent in the night. A beach filled with a tiny portion of the largest family in the galaxy. A man with a black lightsabre and black _beskar'gam_. An army of droids. 

It went by so fast.

When the vision left him, he took a slow breath. It must not have lasted very long, because Doo was still standing off to the side of the yard looking worried.

"You'll have time to grow," Sifo-Dyas told the younglings. "The threat isn't gone, but you'll have time to grow. Learn your lessons well, take the time to be joyful and become strong. You'll be able to weather the storm, and your _aliit_ will help. Family is more than blood."

"Master Sifo-Dyas?" Ben asked quietly. 

Sifo-Dyas waved him off. "It's fine."

The younglings all looked at each other worriedly. 

"So Death Watch isn't gone?" Isabet asked.

Sifo-Dyas tilted his head in thought. "They won't come before you're ready to take them on, but you need to be prepared."

That seemed to dispel some of their fear. Which was a relief. If he ended up upsetting them any more, he thought their parents might come over to skewer him. Not that he wouldn't be able to escape, he would, but it would be dreadfully inconvenient. 

If anything, his words seemed to light a fire under them.

"We'll be ready," Falin solemnly promised. 

Sifo-Dyas smiled at him. "The future is always in motion. The best you can do is be prepared and make the best choices you can given the circumstances."

He could almost see the wheels turning in the children's heads. 

Ah well. That probably wasn't a bad thing.

"Want to try using a blaster at the same time as a 'sabre?" he asked Ben.

Ben's brow wrinkled with worry. He glanced quickly towards the young _mando'ad'e_ and then towards their parents. His expression smoothed out and he gave Sifo-Dyas a warm smile and a courtly half-bow. "I'd be delighted. Have a seat with Obi-Wan and I'll show off a little."

 _Clever, clever_.

He'd very neatly given Sifo-Dyas a reason to sit down. Not that Sifo-Dyas was going to complain. This vision wasn't as terrible as it could have been, but he was still feeling a bit light headed.

Sifo-Dyas gave Ben a knowing smirk and nodded back. "Very well. I concede the lesson to you, Master Kenobi. Come, young ones, let's give Ben and his _vod'e_ some room."

He urged the children away to the side of the yard, and then sat cross legged right on the edge. Doo's Force presence was strong at his back, even though they weren't physically close. Doo pressed his presence in close around him as a bulwark against whatever emotions the Mandalorians were feeling, an unspoken promise that he would guard Sifo-Dyas' blind spot.

Obi-Wan crawled into his lap without prompting. To Sifo-Dyas' mild surprise, Helix sat down next to him on one side, and Cody sat down on the other. The rest of the _vod'e_ took the field to help Ben.

What was even more surprising was how both Helix and Cody sat close enough to let their shoulders brush up against his. He would have liked to say that it was the vision that left him shaking at that moment, and not the unexpected comfort of a friendly touch.

The other children gathered around Cody and Helix, all eagerly watching. Obi-Wan was bouncing a little in place, utterly focused on what was about to happen.

Once the demonstration got underway, Helix leaned slightly towards Sifo-Dyas.

"You alright?" he asked very quietly.

Force, but Sifo-Dyas appreciated his discretion. It was bad enough to constantly be at the whims of whatever the Force wanted to show him. He didn't enjoy appearing weak in front of strangers on top of that, too. 

Sifo-Dyas opened his mouth to answer, but Helix interrupted him. "Before you say, 'I'm fine,' please take a moment to really evaluate that banthashit you're about to shovel at me," he said sourly.

That caused Sifo-Dyas to huff in amusement. He did as Helix asked and closed his eyes and took stock of himself.

"Tired. A bit dizzy. It will pass," he said, matching Helix's tone and volume so that their conversation would go unnoticed. After another moment of consideration, he added, "A little ill. Nothing unusual. It will settle quickly."

Helix gave him an unhappy look and passed over his canteen without another word. 

Emotion swelled inside of Sifo-Dyas and squeezed his chest. He knew that the _vod'e_ had a vested interest in keeping him functional; he was Obi-Wan's primary protector at the Temple and they wanted the little one safe and sound.

Every single time they actually seemed to _care_ , Sifo-Dyas was shocked all over again. 

Sifo-Dyas took the canteen. He had to brace his forearm against his knee for a moment, tucked in at Obi-Wan's side. The children around them ooo'd and ahhh'd at whatever Ben was doing. Sifo-Dyas wasn't paying attention. He just closed his eyes and took slow, even breaths.

Obi-Wan was tense and excited in his lap. The canteen was cold in his hand. The air was warm and dry. Helix and Cody's arms were firm against his own, their _beskar'gam_ felt solid and supportive to him.

"Still with us, Master?" Cody asked softly.

Sifo-Dyas managed a nod. He took a small sip of the water and had to swallow hard to get it around the tightness of his throat. The water helped. He savored the sensation for a moment.

"You all keep surprising me," he said, his voice rough.

"How?" Cody asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I have never had so many people concerned for my well being," Sifo-Dyas said, somewhat wonderingly. "And especially not over something as minor as a little discomfort."

Helix growled under his breath and glared out at the field in front of them.

"Thank you," Sifo-Dyas said, turning to look at Cody, and then Helix, in an attempt to impress upon them how much he appreciated their kindness. 

Cody looked at him for a long moment. What he was searching for, Sifo-Dyas had no idea. Eventually, he nodded and said, "You're welcome."

They all watched Ben attempt to shoot a blaster while doing Ataru flips with his 'sabre flashing. 

Sifo-Dyas thought through the flashes of the future that he'd seen in his vision. There were hints of war in it, and children, and a hundred other things that he couldn't quite get a grasp on. Over it all was a feeling about the younglings here.

"Cody, keep an eye on this group," Sifo-Dyas said very quietly. "Set them up with teachers, if you can. Check in on them once in a while, make sure they have what they need. Make sure that they are growing up to be kind people."

Cody stared at him. "Alright."

"If they are caring, honorable people, it will change countless lives. If they are cruel and hard, things will change for the worse. You're going to need them one day, and need them badly, either way."

He took another sip of water as Cody and Helix both stared holes into him. 

The rest of the demonstration passed in a blur. After a while, Ben convinced Doo to join him on the field. When Obi-Wan started to get fidgety, Sifo-Dyas begged off, saying that they needed to get cleaned up for dinner. Truthfully, he needed the quiet time as much as Obi-Wan did, to get settled for their evening meal.

The children swarmed both him and Obi-Wan to give them good-bye hugs, which Sifo-Dyas liked to think he accepted with better grace than Doo had. Doo managed to extract himself from the situation before he could be mobbed again, and said good-byes for all of them.

The adults gave him friendly smiles and waves as they left, and Sifo-Dyas nodded back at them with a carefully crafted warm smile.

It dropped off his face the moment they were alone in the hall. Force, but he was exhausted. 

"That went rather well," Doo said.

"It was so fun! They were all so nice, 'nd they had armour, too, 'nd they all had really great advice on how to get used to it," Obi-Wan babbled happily.

Sifo-Dyas just gave Doo a tired look. They couldn't risk a friendly touch in so public a place, and certainly not in front of Obi-Wan. They settled themselves for leaning into each other in the Force, letting their minds brush against each other.

"I think all the younglings enjoyed it," Doo continued. He paused to gauge Sifo-Dyas' mood. "If you're not careful, they might try to follow you back to the Temple," he teased.

Sifo-Dyas laughed quietly and shook his head. "Are you _trying_ to get me kicked off the Council?"

"I would never," Doo said, mock innocently. His eyes were happy, though, and Sifo-Dyas found himself smiling along with him as they walked back to their suite.

\--

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Looking back on the events of the past rotation or so, Cody was glad he had the chance to sort through his thoughts and reassess where he -- and his _vod'e_ \-- stood. It had been eventful and somewhat stressful, for all that none of those events had involved firing a single blaster shot.

The afternoon they'd spent with the _mando'ad'e_ they'd helped rescue from the mine on Concordia had been a relief, but very emotionally charged. Right from the moment that the group of teens had assembled in the training yard, Cody had been able to tell that he and all six of his _vod'e_ would need time to touch and recenter themselves after that meeting. Waxer had been hit especially hard by whatever he was feeling -- Cody hadn't been able to untangle it on the fly at the time, and it was still a gordian knot of emotions now -- and Boil hadn't been far behind his _riduur_.

The rescued teens had done their best to scold them for even showing up on Concordia, let alone for taking part in the assault, and then proceeded to do what they could to mother hen Crys and Longshot, who were both long recovered from the ordeal. It had been kind of hilarious to watch those two _vod'e_ try -- and fail -- to protest the way the oldest teens had all but stripped them out of their armour to check them over and then hug them. Well, it had been until it had been his turn. Then it had become a bit awkward and knowing that his men were laughing at his discomfiture had pricked at him.

On the other hand, what had happened next had made the whole thing worth it. He'd had to bite down hard on his amusement when the whole group of them turned to Master Dooku, more or less as one, and repeated the procedure on a very confused and almost panicked _jetii_. The master's badly hidden internal flailing had been karking hilarious and Cody had seen more than one of the _verd'e_ who'd adopted these Foundlings smile. Master Sifo-Dyas had watched, from where he was keeping an eye on the Cadet, and smirked at his _riduur_ right along with the rest of them.

Luckily for Dooku, it hadn't taken long for the Cadet to distract the lot of them, deciding he needed to join in on the hugging, and then the General had turned their little gathering into a chance to show off his weapons skills. That had lasted until Master Sifo-Dyas had decided that Obi-Wan had had enough excitement for the day.

The teens had regretfully let the little one and his masters leave, hugging Master Sifo-Dyas that time, who handled the contact rather better than his _riduur_. The master had looked at the group of Foundlings with something like wonder in his eyes, and Helix had muttered something under his breath about _jetiise_ and their insistence on what seemed to amount to personal isolation. Cody had to agree -- even the _Vod'e_ were better at those sorts of things, despite a distinct lack of good role models.

Once the masters and Obi-Wan had escaped into the palace, the Foundlings had turned back to the eight of them, demanding that Crys and Longshot -- and their _vod'e_ \-- not simply vanish off the scopes this time, before allowing the gathering to break up and drifting back to their respective _buir'e_.

Being able to end the unaccustomed social time -- as pleasant as it had been -- had been a karking relief and all eight of them had gratefully availed themselves of the option to make a strategic retreat and process what had just happened.

Seeing the _mando'ad'e_ they'd freed and directly had a hand in keeping alive had somehow brought out an even more intense reaction in them than any of the rescues that the 212th had pulled off in their own timeline, and they needed time to slot that away properly. Hells, it was probably more important to do that now than it had ever been when they'd still been physically mature, considering what Helix had told them about the topic.

The moment the seven of them and Kenobi had been able to get back to their suite, Waxer and Boil had taken just enough time to strip off their armour plates before they'd all but collapsed into one anothers' arms, radiating a mix of intermingled relief and rightness, shot through with more than a hint of anguished longing. Wooley and Longshot had wrapped themselves around the two aching _vod'e_ , and offered what support they could. Cody, Crys and Helix followed suit once the four of them were settled comfortably.

Their medic was all but shaking, and Cody tucked himself in close to his friend's back, offering the support and protection that Helix had so often granted him. It took Helix a moment to relax into the touch and the comfort, but when he did he took a shuddering breath.

" _Vod_?" Cody prodded at him quietly. "Helix? Check in with me."

"I-- I'll be fine, but that was overwhelming," came the response. “They’re alive and we saved them. I knew that. It’s just… We never get to _see_ that. We’re just clones. We come in and fight and die and save who we can and then we _leave_. But those _mando’ad’e remember us_ , and always will. They know our names, our faces. They... They're... They're not _Vod'e_ but they _know us_. They-- They cared that we-- that we--”

Cody let his grip on his friend tighten as Helix's words trailed off into a kind of pained groan. He had to take a moment to remind himself that they were warm, secure. _Safe_. "What do you need, _vod_?"

"Just... keep doing what you're doing." Helix was gradually calming, regaining his usual calm focus inch by inch. "I'm-- I don't know what-- why--"

Longshot huffed at him. "You told us yourself that emotions would be tougher to deal with so long as we're this tiny, _vod_. Just breathe. We've got the watch. _Morut'yc_ , Helix."

Waxer and Boil were still tense, though. In the network the feeling of _something missing_ seemed to roll through all of them, and they looked up to meet their General's eyes.

Kenobi hovered at the edges of their comfortable tangle, hesitating to join them until Crys rolled his eyes and sat up enough to snag him by his right wrist and tug. Thankfully, that got through, and Kenobi smoothly stripped off his own armour, stacking it with movements almost as deft as a proper trooper's.

Once the General had wormed his way into their huddle, any of them who could reach had made sure they had contact with him.

Cody decided he'd definitely been right about the need to touch and be touched. He already felt a lot kriffing better and he could tell his _vod'e_ did, too. All of them were still worryingly unstable, though.

It felt like a role reversal, given how much he'd been relying on the network to keep his own footing lately, but somehow he and Kenobi were the ones left with bedrock to stand on, right now. He had no idea what was going through their heads, but it couldn't be something easy to cope with, or they wouldn't need the network this karking badly. Grabbing for his General in the network and tightening his hold on Helix again, Cody took a breath and started reaching out to the others, one by one.

Longshot and Crys, who were the closest to calm, managed to sort themselves out first, and then added their own efforts to his. It took a lot of the strain off him and Cody could appreciate that. This was pulling all kinds of bittersweet memories out of their boxes and dusting them off, but he had no time to deal with them right then.

Kenobi got a hold of Helix and Wooley, then, and managed to handily calm them down.

They all reached out for their last two _vod'e_ together.

It was only once they were all in contact that Boil and Waxer took a full breath.

"Kriff, it's good to know they really are okay," Waxer managed to say after spending a minute or so just soaking up the warmth and belonging that the network was shoving at them.

Boil nodded, the movement rubbing his nose against his _riduur_ 's chest. "You said it. I don't know why we all reacted this strongly to it, but, just knowing all of them got adopted is a lot off my mind."

Cody hadn't known that Boil was worrying about that. "Next time you want to know something like that, _vod_ ," he said dryly, " _ask_."

Kenobi made a bemused sound. "One of us will know, or be able to find out," he agreed.

"What I want to know," Helix said slowly, "is what Master Sifo-Dyas meant about getting those _ad'e_ teachers. He said they'd be important to us sometime in the future."

Cody shrugged. "I guess we'll find out when it happens," he muttered.

"That is how Force visions generally work," the General agreed. "At least... it's how mine have. You'll recall that, during our pursuit of General Grievous, on our last rotation in our timeline, I got a strong vision just after we made planetfall."

That had been worrying. Kenobi had all but collapsed into his arms and stopped responding to, well, anything. Cody nodded. "Your point, General?"

"My _point_ , Cody, is that part of what I Saw also came to be after we got sent back those thirty years."

"It did?" Crys asked, hushed. "You never said."

"What was it that you saw?" Longshot followed up.

With a quiet sigh and a wry smile, Kenobi said, "Flashes of many different events, Longshot. The most relevant part was that I Saw the eight of us, grown, standing with _buir_ and _ori'vod_."

The _vod'e_ all fell silent for a moment, considering that, and then Wooley said, as though speaking to himself for all that it was directed at them, "Those eight _ad'e_ seem familiar, somehow. I'm not sure why, but they do."

"Oh?" Kenobi's focus sharpened. "How so?"

"It's a feeling like I've met them before," Wooley answered absently, "but I don't know how that could possibly be."

"Now that you mention it," Waxer said with a nod, "I feel it too. Didn't realise it until you said so, but you're right, _vod_."

Boil and Longshot made quiet affirmative sounds.

"Whether they're familiar to us or not doesn't matter," Cody said decisively, "Master Sifo-Dyas told me we should find them teachers, so we will. What he said about making sure they grow up to be kind, after he's repeatedly told _us_ we're kind, implies he wants us to teach them our ways."

Helix blinked at him for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at him. "You want us to turn them into _Vod'e_?" He asked, sardonically.

"What else do _we_ know that the _mando'ad'e_ don't?" Cody challenged him. "We have our knowledge of ourselves and our timeline. Master Sifo-Dyas specifically came to us for this mission. Fighting skills? Morals? Ethics? They can get those from their _buir'e_. Diplomacy and tactics and strategy? Those too, though maybe not as much as if they were learning from the General or Master Dooku."

"Point to the Commander," Waxer joked. "Alright, sir. We're with you."

General Kenobi made a thoughtful sound. "You know. I wouldn't be against teaching them, but I think perhaps Master Dooku might be better at it. They noticeably respect him in a way that they don't respect me. I look too young."

Boil and Crys exchanged a grin that threatened havoc. Cody found himself echoing it, along with the rest of his _vod'e_ , a beat later. Master Dooku, with his awkwardness around _ad'e_? Teaching eight of them at once about things unrelated to the Force? That could be entertaining.

"That might make for some fantastic holos we can send Master Sifo-Dyas," Longshot pointed out.

"I'm on it, _vod_ ," Crys replied with a gleeful giggle. "They'll go well with the holos from this afternoon."

Another brief silence fell, then Cody felt Wooley gather himself, psyching himself up to ask something he wasn't sure would get a positive reaction from the rest of them.

Not sure what to make of that, Cody tried not to let Wooley's nerves spread to him.

"General?" Wooley spoke hesitantly, his voice quiet, "I think I want to ask my question now."

"By all means," Kenobi replied promptly. "What is it, _vod_?"

It still sent a tiny jolt of relief through Cody every time Kenobi referred to one of them like that. One more subtle sign that he was allowing himself to integrate more fully with them, that he'd accepted them. Even if it was subconscious.

Wooley didn't reply immediately, thinking his question and his wording through, taking his time and being deliberate in a way few _Vod'e_ were, when it came to gathering intel.

"Something tells me that listening to the Cadet is the right thing to do," he said, after a few seconds. "That we _should_ learn how to fight with 'sabres. I can't put my finger on _what_ is telling me that, though. And, sure, logic says that it makes sense to pick up the skill. Obi-Wan wants to spar with us. I'm almost certain _you_ want to do the same. Knowing how to use a 'sabre will let us deal with Pre Vizsla more effectively if, no, _when_ he does show his face again. But the idea of picking up a 'sabre... it feels... _wrong_."

As their _vod_ spoke, Cody felt the network go from curious-wary to agreement to emphatic-agreement as Wooley put into words what they'd been feeling, themselves, but hadn't quite managed to articulate.

Longshot sat up as far as he could to point at Wooley for emphasis. "Kriffing well said, _vod_ ," he put in. "That's something I've been trying to find a solution to, myself."

The rest of them simply nodded, one by one, as Kenobi met their eyes. When the General looked at him, in his turn, Cody added, "Lightsabres are a _jetii_ 's weapon. _Vod'e_ are not -- well, have never been -- _jetiise_."

"Until now," Kenobi agreed, even as he contradicted the words. "Anakin felt much the same, at first, you know."

Cody blinked, then stared for a moment, surprised. _Skywalker_ had felt that way? The Hero with No Fear?

"General Skywalker _what_?" Helix asked, incredulous as Cody was. " _Why_?"

Kenobi heaved a deep sigh. "The Council, in their _infinite wisdom_ , did not want to accept him into the Order, citing that he was too old to be trained effectively. That he had missed out on too much of the basic teachings. Anakin... took that rather strongly to heart, despite all my efforts to the contrary."

The network went tight and hot with their combined anger and frustration.

"Let it go, _vod'e_ ," Kenobi reminded them. "Release that anger, as you can. It is long in the past -- or perhaps the future -- and no longer an issue."

"I get the feeling that your precious High Council has _no karking idea what they're kriffing doing_ , way more often than I karking should," Helix grumbled, extremely put out.

Crys snorted. "I'm right there with you, _vod_."

"So, how did you get him past that," Longshot wanted to know, wrenching them back on topic, and incidentally helping all of them calm the kriff back down with the change. It gave them something to focus on that _didn't_ work them up further.

Cody appreciated that. "Whatever he did likely won't work for us, _vod_ ," he reminded his trooper. "We just went through that with the shielding exercises."

Kenobi winced, and all of them felt him raising his shields higher. "That should never have--"

" _General_ ," Helix drawled, warning in his voice, "if you're about to repeat what you did when we talked about this last time, I'd have to advise against it."

Stopping short, Kenobi gave him a wary look. "Or what?"

Calmly, all Helix did was raise an eyebrow at him and reply with a sharing of that image of himself as a Zakkeg and Kenobi fleeing, which Wooley had given them all.

The General cleared his throat. "Well. Point taken."

A short silence reigned in the room, and Cody counted the fact that the General didn't raise his shields again a victory. Then Kenobi resumed speaking. "In the end, I wound up talking it out with him, like this," he said with a shrug. "It took a good amount of discussion to pinpoint the source of his hesitance, but once we had, we could address it. You seven already know why you're not comfortable picking up a 'sabre, and I see little point in covering the same ground twice. So I will turn the question back on you; what would help? How can I make it easier for you? Is there something specific about it that bothers you, or is it only that cognitive conflict?"

Waxer and Boil exchanged looks. "That's... tough for a grunt like me to answer, General," Waxer answered after a moment, blatantly passing the responsibility off and up the chain of command. "Commander? You got any insights?"

Resisting the urge to make a face, Cody tried to find a way to phrase his answer that would lead to the fewest misunderstandings. "General," he said slowly, "for as long as we've been alive, we've known that our primary purpose was the protection of the Jedi Order as a whole, and our assigned _jetiise_ in particular. It's... There are strata. The _Vod'e_ were created to serve the Order, sir, and what you're offering us means we have to take on a role we're not prepared for whatsoever. Mentally or otherwise. It's like trying to step into a pair of boots in the wrong size. Worse, everything we know, all of our training and experience, says that allowing ourselves to do that is... it's a violation. Taboo."

Rather than surprise, what Cody saw in his General's expression was closer to deep thought, as though he'd been handed a puzzle, rather than the problem of reconciling two fundamentally contradictory worldviews.

He thought for a few seconds, visibly turning a few possible solutions over in his mind, then shook his head. "No, it won't work," he said quietly, after about half a minute had ticked by.

While he'd considered the issue, the tension in the room had ticked back up to a level comparable to the one they'd been at just after leaving the training yard.

"So that's it, then?" Longshot asked. "There's no solution to the problem?"

Kenobi glanced over at him, surprised. "What? No. No, that's not what I meant, Longshot. No, what we need to do is ask a different question."

"What would that be, General?" Cody asked him, reminded of the way Master Plo had taken a similar approach to the questions Kenobi had had about shielding. Reformulate the question, and often an answer will appear.

"Bear with me," the General said, "this will take some adjustment on your parts, for it to work, but I think it's worth a try."

"What is?" Wooley spoke up, looking almost hopeful. Wordlessly, the rest of the _vod'e_ let their hope-skepticism-interest wash through the network.

"Learning how to use a 'sabre doesn't make you a Jedi," Kenobi answered obliquely. "Tor Vizsla was certainly not part of the Order, but he was among the best swordsmen I have ever faced."

Cody turned that idea over in his mind a few times. He could see the logic, and it made sense. Rang true just as much as the Cadet's insistence that they learn did. It also represented a way for them to learn 'sabre without having to attempt to scrap and then rebuild their entire identity overnight. It would take time for them to really come to terms with that required shift in their thinking, but if they did things Kenobi's way, they'd have that time.

"That might actually work," Cody conceded aloud. " _Vod'e_?"

"It'll be kriffing weird," Helix muttered, "but alright, we can try it."

"You said it," Crys agreed with their medic.

"Stands a decent chance of being effective," Boil said. Waxer and Longshot simply nodded.

Wooley sighed and scrubbed at his face with his hands. "That's... okay. Okay, General, we'll give it a shot, but this'll mean you have to be patient with us, too."

The comment got him a smile. "I can do that," the General said easily, his tone very effectively disguising the hint of command in his next words. "Treat it as just one more set of weapon drills, if you can, and if anything about it continues to bother you, tell me."

Cody smiled back. That was a command he didn't mind following, or enforcing. "We will, if you will, sir. Now. There is something else we all need to discuss."

The General gave him a knowing look, and through the network, Cody could tell he was feeling much calmer and more focused than before. "You want to try to plan for what Master Sifo-Dyas hinted was coming."

Waxer nodded. "We have a chance to make the future better," he said seriously, his voice quiet but no less intense for that. "Don't we have a moral and ethical obligation to do it, General? We've already interfered just by _existing_ at this point in history. Even if we got back to the _Negotiator_ tomorrow, we'd leave behind a mark. The members of your High Council know about us. So do the Cadet and the entire Mandalore sector. And the Death Watch."

Helix nodded. "And we have absolutely no guarantees that we _can_ get back to the _Negotiator_ without doing it the long way and living those thirty years," he pointed out.

"Your idea of going back to the location where we accidentally skipped back in time stands a reasonable chance of working," Kenobi replied.

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't at least try to make sure that _buir_ is in a stable position before we leave," Boil said firmly. "The political situation here is still tenuous."

"And what if we've already changed things enough that our future no longer exists?" Longshot asked, voice solemn. "We all know there's a good chance we haven't, just based on the visions that Master Sifo-Dyas has been having of the War, but just because the Clone War still happens doesn't mean it'll happen the same way."

General Kenobi looked like he wanted to argue that but couldn't, frustrated and tempted to pace. "Always in motion, the future is," he muttered, apparently to himself, then took a steadying breath. "Alright, _vod'e_. I am not going to give up hope that we can get back, and I am not about to stop trying before I've even started, but your points are all exquisitely well-argued."

"We can plan in those attempts to get back," Cody assured him. "But we need to approach this in a more methodical fashion than we have been, so far. Ardanna was right. If we want to prevent the War from breaking out in the first place, we can't just sit back now that we've sent Death Watch running out of the sector."

"What'd you have in mind, Commander?" Crys asked him.

Taking a slightly deeper breath and squaring his shoulders, Cody met his _vod_ 's eyes. "We can't plan out the next thirty years. That's a fool's errand," he said in answer and got a few bemused huffs of agreement in response. "Master Sifo-Dyas hinted that we might have a lot less time than that, though. Remember what he said? A bare handful of years of peace."

"We should use them to make our own preparations, then," Wooley agreed.

"Precisely." Cody turned to Kenobi. "You said your plans were to keep Master Dooku from Falling and play the rest by ear, sir, but I don't think that will work. What do you know about the events that caused the War? You know the history better than we do."

Kenobi went quiet, gathering his thoughts before he spoke. "We've already stopped one of the most important dominoes from falling," he said. "In our timeline, after _buir_ got killed on Korda, the entire Mandalore sector got destabilised, making it easy for Death Watch to take advantage of the New Mandalorians' pacifism. Their attacks in turn further radicalised those who wanted to lay down arms, pushing the political factions to greater extremes of opinion. The kind of compromise that _buir_ worked out between the clan chieftains and the New Mandalorians for the Death Watch campaign would have been impossible in the time we came from. Whatever else happens in its place, that series of events will not, now that the Death Watch have been more or less dealt with."

"And you have plans to shore _buir_ 's position up further, with that new glass project of yours," Waxer said with a hint of a smirk and sent a pulse of pleased-proud feeling in their General's direction. "Economic strength is just as important as the military side of things."

Kenobi conceded that with a tilt of his head in Waxer's direction. "I don't know what all of the critical turning points will be, now that we've made this change," he admitted, "but in our timeline, there were several: the death of Jaster Mereel, leading to Jango Fett becoming _Mand'alor_ until Galidraan and the slaughter of the True Mandalorians; the Stark Hyperspace war; the Trade Federation's blockade of Naboo, ten years before the War, which set the stage for tensions to rise in the Senate; Master Sifo-Dyas' actions to commission the GAR and his subsequent death; and the Separatist Crisis, which culminated in the first Battle of Geonosis."

He paused briefly and thought back over what he knew, trying to bring the larger picture fully into focus, for all that he knew he was missing pieces of it. A war as widespread and as vicious as the Clone Wars didn't just spontaneously develop, after all. It was the result of the interplay of many different factors and required very specific conditions to burst from smouldering coals into the kind of raging flame that he'd experienced.

"After Count Dooku created the Confederacy of Independent Systems, they tried to secede peacefully," he went on, "which is not against Republic law. There was a vote scheduled in the Senate as to whether or not the Military Creation Act should pass, granting the Republic the right to build a military. It never came to that vote. When the Confederacy's droid army was discovered and the First Battle of Geonosis happened, Chancellor Palpatine used his emergency powers to create the GAR and use the clones as troops. That's when everything started to spiral.

"There are several smaller players to keep in mind, too. At some point in the decade before the war, General Grievous' people were destroyed by the Jedi; another mission that sounds far too much like Master Dooku's description of the Senate's actions in having the Council send him and his team to Korda VI for my comfort. There too, the Senate claimed they'd thoroughly investigated the situation and sent members of the Order to put down what _sounded_ like dangerous insurrectionists, but the situation turned out to be infinitely more complicated than that. Then there is whatever incident sent Maul and Asajj Ventress on their rampage and off into the Sith's waiting hands. I unfortunately have no further information about that, _vod'e_."

"Is it just me, or does the Senate come up a distressingly large number of times in that overview?" Helix asked.

"It's not just you," the General said grimly. "What bothers me is that it makes a disturbing amount of sense, given Master Sifo-Dyas' visions -- which tell us the Sith Lord was on Coruscant long before the war started -- and Count Dooku's own words to me on Geonosis."

"Korda VI. Galidraan. Grievous' people. That's a lot of missions where the Senate used the Jedi to do something awful," Cody said.

“Not to mention that old history of Ardanna’s,” Wooley added. “The _Dral’han_. That’s… pretty unsettling.”

"It is. It makes me wonder what other dirty work the Senate has had the Jedi unknowingly carry out." General Kenobi's disgust and upset resonated through their bonds.

"The first item on your list, we've already prevented," Cody pointed out, "and the others all took place more than ten years from now in our timeline."

The General gave him a wan smile, his presence in the network falling somewhere between resigned, determined, and fond. "I know. We're in unknown territory, here, as you all so eloquently pointed out. If Master Sifo-Dyas is correct, and things happen more quickly here than they did in our timeline, we don't have much hope of stopping them. It will be incredibly difficult to be ready in time."

Crys scoffed. "The Separatist Crisis we can't do anything about. The blockade of Naboo, though. That we could probably fix. Send their monarch an anonymous text comm with as much detailed information as you can. Their spies are sure to intercept it, but that's fine. In fact, it's better. That kind of information will get their attention. Even if they think it's a hoax, they'll investigate and if they find evidence of preparations to attack them, they'll take action."

Clever. "That's a good plan _vod_ ," Cody agreed. "Think you can pull it off, from here?"

"I'd need the General to tell me what to put in the body of the message, but I think so. It'd be safer not to use a holonet terminal inside the palace, or even on planet, but I'll make do with what I have access to," Crys answered.

"We have already done something about the Separatist Crisis, too," General Kenobi put in, his tone of voice thoughtful. "We just have to make sure nothing reverses it. In our timeline, Master Dooku's was the voice that the Confederation of Independent Systems rallied around, starting with the Raxus Address."

"Do you know what prompted Master Dooku to make that address?" Cody asked him.

"No, I don't," Kenobi said and sighed. "Something happened to make him leave the Order, but I don't know what it was. He tried to recruit me during the first Battle of Geonosis. Told me that there was a Sith somewhere in the Senate, and that there were hundreds of senators under his sway. But not who it was or why he'd left the Order. And then the fighting broke out in earnest shortly after. I never had a chance to find out."

Wooley, who'd kept quiet until then, spoke up. "Maybe Master Dooku leaving the Order should go on your list of dominoes," he said.

"Perhaps," Kenobi conceded. "But I'm not certain that can be prevented. If he left the Order, it was doubtless either because he decided to of his own volition, which is something I will not interfere with, or because the Sith Lord was influencing him, which I will not permit to happen, in this time. Should he still choose to leave the Order despite being under my protection?" He shrugged.

"Then we should make sure he has somewhere to go, if he does leave," Wooley replied. "Why leave that to chance? Make sure he knows he has a home here with us, regardless of whether he's part of the Order or not. And so do Master Sifo-Dyas and the Cadet."

"His home is the Temple, _vod_. Just like the General's was," Crys pointed out.

Helix shrugged. "So we'll find a way to let him bring his home with him, if that's what it takes," he quipped, his tone making it clear that he didn't mean that at all seriously.

General Kenobi got a melancholy feel in the network, reminded of the home he had given up for the sake of this self-appointed mission, but Cody couldn't help the way the sentence made his focus on his chief medical officer sharpen.

"Say that again," he demanded, and all of his men turned to look at him, dawning understanding in their eyes.

Helix went from surprised to amused to understanding. "We'll find a way to let him bring his home with him," he repeated, a small smile gracing his features. "How do you plan to pull _that_ off, Commander?"

"I don't know yet, but it's a good idea and I intend to try to make it work," Cody replied.

"There's that plot of land _buir_ just deeded to the General," Longshot pointed out.

"You want to, what, build a new temple on it?" General Kenobi asked, skeptical but unable to quite hide the tiny note of hope in his voice.

He hadn't thought the idea through that far yet, himself, but there was little he wouldn't do for his General. If Kenobi wanted a home away from home, Cody would see to it that he got one. "That plot of land might not be quite big enough for a reproduction of the Temple of the Order and a glassmaker's facility," he said, "but we could probably find a way to make it work, even if that means scaling down the Temple."

"Are you going to found a new order of Mandalorian Jedi, while you're at it, Cody?" Kenobi asked him, hiding his interest and hope behind sarcasm, as he tended to when he didn't want to risk disappointment. "The High Council would likely object."

Cody let the words roll right back off of him. "Maybe. And maybe not. But all of that is a problem for tomorrow. For tonight, we should focus on ourselves. It's been a while since we ran a full set of drills."

Waxer grinned. "Flight training?"

"And all the rest," Cody agreed. "Come on, General. Let's go have some fun."

"Oh, alright," Kenobi grumbled.

None of his _vod'e_ was fooled by that, and all of them -- including Kenobi -- knew it.


	49. Chapter 49

\--- POV: Darist H'yza ---

Darist took a drink of her _ne'tra gal_ and settled her cards in her hand. She blessed the fact that Falin was old enough that she could leave him alone for the evening while she went to her regular bitch-and-bet night with some _verd'e_. 

There were five other _verd'e_ seated casually around the sabacc table that someone had dragged along with them; it was a folding thing with cup holders built in and little cubbies for credit chips. Several more _verd'e_ were hanging around the room watching the game. Most of the folks present were from Headhunter Company, Jaster's personal company of _ori'ramikad'e_. There were a few _riduur'e_ mixed in too, dragged along by their spouses. It wasn't a big group; large enough for some variety in players and small enough to still seem cozy.

Honestly, Darist was glad that Montross was gone. He hadn't shown up to these gatherings often, but when he had he had always been more of a dick than she wanted to deal with.

_Hut'uun'la or'dinii_.

"Kriffing _jetiise_ ," Tal bitched, tossing down a card. He, like most of them, was still in his _beskar'gam_ , though his _buy'ce_ was sitting next to him on the floor. "Could they get any weirder?"

Tal had been at the training yard this afternoon. He'd adopted little B'arin, and while all their _ad'e_ were having fun with the _jet'ike_ and their _vod'e_ , the rest of them had had the dubious joy of getting to know Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas. 

As Jaster's second, Darist had spent some time with Dooku. Those instances were often filled with work, though, not a casual social event like today. 

"Could'a been worse, _verd_ ," Darist said, sipping her drink. It was good brew, made by one of the _verd'e_ in his free time. Everyone had a hobby. Kree's was brewing and distilling. 

"How?" Tal asked. His voice held more curiosity than anything else. 

Darist snorted. "You've all seen Ben fight. The way he talks in the Council is something else. The kid is wicked smart. He stands on thin air to see over the table. Who knows what weird _osik_ they’d come up with?" She paused to think for a moment. "I'd _thought_ that Dooku was a cold one, just what all the stories say. But the moment the other _jetii_ showed up with their _ad_..." She snorted in amusement.

"They are absolutely _riduur'e_ ," Zeiirk said firmly from where she was sprawled on a nearby couch. The chestplate of her armour was sitting next to her and her body glove was unfastened at the neck. She looked tired as kriff; she'd been pulling double shifts covering for a sick friend.

"Right?" Fenra said. "I was on guard duty in the Council room the day after the new _jetii_ and the _jetii ad'ika_ showed up. Dooku walked in with a limp, I swear to _manda_."

Jeers and scoffs filled the room. Fenra just waved a hand at them all. "I'm serious!"

"Pffft, you're full of _osik_ ," Tal said, rolling his eyes. 

"That was the look of a well laid man," Fenra said solemnly. He leaned over the table, unintentionally offering the rest of them a look at his cards. "If they didn't screw 'til dawn, I will eat my _buy'ce_."

Darist barked out a laugh. "Convenient, then, that it would be rude to go up and ask them to see what they say," she said sarcastically.

Fenra winced.

"Well, we _could_..." Zeiirk trailed off.

"If we wanted our asses gifted with a close, personal introduction to a _jetii'kad_ ," Tal said dryly. 

"Kinky," Kree said, sipping at his washtub distilled moonshine. 

Several _verd'e_ threw rolled up napkins at him. 

Irre harrumphed from where she sat leaning up against Kree. "Like you weren't all thinking it."

"Today was still weird," Tal said, changing the subject back to something that wouldn't make Darist want to bleach her brain. 

He wasn't wrong. Sifo-Dyas was a strange man. She wondered if it was a _jetii_ thing.

"Lotta doom and gloom from the visiting _jetii_ ," Con'ak said. "My _ad_ told me that he said Death Watch would come back in a few years."

Con'ak had adopted Isabet. She already had some _ad'e_ , so she'd already been prepared to take on one of the littlest of the rescues. Her household already had extra clothes and hand-me-down armour from her older _ad'e_ , and she had a lot of local _aliit_ to help with childcare.

The group shifted uneasily.

"He's not wrong," Darist said, stemming the mutterings about spooky space magic. "Pre Vizsla got away. He'll come back eventually. That little twat couldn't keep his nose out of everyone else's business if he tried."

Several of the _verd'e_ laughed and the tension in the room eased.

"We kicked their _shebs_ already, we can do it again," Tal said confidently. 

"If Dooku doesn't beat us to the honor." Fenra shook his head. "I thought _jetiise_ were supposed to be all peaceful, but that man likes a fight."

"You're watching him pretty close, Fenra. You looking to see if he and his _riduur_ are open to flings?" Kree teased.

Laughter echoed around the room and Fenra tossed a salted nut at Kree, hitting him in the arm.

"Go kark yourself," Fenra complained. "I'm watching because it's my job."

This was also true. Fenra was keen. Darist had him in scouting roles more often than not, when they were away on a contract. Ally or not, code or no, the _jetiise_ were not historically friendly to the _Mando'ad'e_. All of Jaster's people had been cautious as hell around them.

Seeing Dooku's _riduur_ bring their _jet'ika_ to visit had been something of a relief. One didn't bring the vulnerable members of the _aliit_ into an enemy encampment. 

"Gotta say, though, I wouldn't mind a fling," Zeiirk said, gazing fondly off into nothing.

Kree and a few others groaned at her, but she waved them off.

"Yeah, you're all just jealous. Kriff, did you see them fight? I was there. It was _hot_." Zeiirk waved a hand at her face, as if to cool herself off, and blew out a breath.

"And the way they joked and played with the little _jet'ika_ after?" Con'ak added. She shook her head. "I've got a _riduur_ , but damn, even I was tempted."

Nothing drove _Mando'ad'e_ crazier than combined competence in battle and skill with children. Darist had seen the holos. She could see the appeal. Kind of not her type, though. And besides, Jaster kept looking at them like he was considering the pros and cons of kriffing one or both of them silly, and Darist didn't want to get within twenty parsecs of that. It was a holo drama just waiting to happen.

"They do have a cute _adiik_ ," Darist said as she mused over the afternoon's events. 

"Looks a hell of a lot like Ben," Tal said, throwing down a card.

"They're _aliit_ of some kind." Darist moved her own cards around in her hand. "I guess all _jetiise_ are _aliit_ , but those two are closer. _Vod'e_ is my guess."

"Where do you think they came from? Before the _jetiise_ took them?" Con'ak asked quietly. No one liked to talk about the rumors that _jetiise_ stole children, but they'd all heard them.

Darist shook her head. "Ben doesn't talk about it, and I don't think the little one remembers anything but the _jetii_ Temple."

"Probably for the best," Kree said with a grimace, and then took another sip of his booze. 

"Yeah." Darist nodded. 

Whoever had raised Ben and his _vod'e_ were ruthless bastards, turning _ad'e_ that little into soldiers. The shit she'd heard come out of their mouths was enough to make a seasoned _verd_ go cold in the face. 

Whatever they'd been through, it obviously hadn't hit little Obi-Wan as hard. The child was happy and sweet and friendly to just about everyone. None of the _verd'e_ had missed how much the little one seemed to care for the older _jetiise_ , either. 

"You know the little baby _jetii_ gave me some candy the other day?" Fenra said out of the blue.

"What?" Darist hadn't heard this bit of gossip yet.

"The _ad'e be'Mand'alor_ were in the training yard during my shift to keep an eye on them. They were all waving their _beskad'e_ around with the older _jetiise_ watching and giving pointers."

The old weapons master, Unna, had about lost her mind when she'd seen what the _vod'e_ were using _beskad'e_ for. Mandalorian _beskar_ used for _jetii_ sword forms. It was almost sacrilege, according to her. Darist couldn't figure out if the old _verd_ was more pissed that her precious weapons were being 'misused', or if it was because those 'good, promising _mando'ad'ike_ ' were being tainted with _jetii_ weapon skills. Or, kriff, maybe she was just jealous because she wasn't and had never been involved in the younglings' training drills.

It wasn't a purposeful slight by the _ad'ike_ , Darist and Jaster were both certain of it. Neither of them had mentioned it to the _vod'e_ , either, because they knew that Unna was one of the _verd'e_ who was less than thrilled that Ben had been adopted into the _aliit_. If those _vod'e_ got wind of that, there would be blood shed. No question. 

Fortunately, it seemed that none of the younglings actually _needed_ Unna's expertise. They were better trained than most of the full grown _verd'e_ that Darist had met. 

Jaster was playing it cool with Unna and the ever dwindling number of other _mando'ad'e_ who were dubious of Ben's presence. He was a good kid. He'd win them over in time.

"They got to the end of their practice and the little one started digging through one of the pockets in his baby _jetii_ robes."

The armour for _ad'ike_ his size was the type that strapped on over regular clothes. They didn't wear body gloves or armourweave bodysuits like an adult would. Most of the _mando'ad'e_ around the palace found it unbelievably funny and cute that the _jet'ika_ had _ad'ike_ armour on over his _jetii_ tunics. It was such an odd culture clash, but a strangely endearing one. 

Fenra paused his story to take a drink, while the rest of them finished up that hand of cards and the next round was dealt. 

He wiped his mouth with the hand still holding his bottle, and said, "So there I am, casually watching them all --"

"Eavesdropping," Tal said, amused.

" _Casually watching_ ," Fenra insisted with a glare. "And the little _jetii_ starts telling the _vod'e_ what a good job they did at practice, and hands them all little wrapped candies. The _verd'ike_ looked like they were gonna melt on the spot."

Darist snorted in amusement. Kriff, but those _vod'e_ were whipped. 

"Then the little one sees me sitting nearby. The rest of the _verd'e_ watching were a little farther away, but I camped out close enough to --" he cleared his throat and a mildly sheepish expression passed over his face, "-- get a good look. The little one was handing out pieces of candy to Ben and the _jetiise_ and he sees me. He bounced right on over, and I kark you not, I thought the _vod'e_ were gonna train blasters on me from the glares they gave me. It was like the kid was running into a known ambush."

They all snickered and drank. Fenra was a good storyteller, and he made everything sound funny.

"So the kid looks up at me and says, dead serious, 'Would you like a candy?' The Mereels were still watching me like I owed them creds and by now the _jetiise_ were watching too, which was worse. I mean, they _looked_ fine, not frowning or anything, but I'm pretty sure that Dooku was wondering what my organs looked like and his _riduur_ was happily planning my funeral. So I sat there and stared, because _what the kriff_."

Fenra's face said it all. He had on this look of wide-eyed dread mixed with pure incredulousness. Darist had to set her drink down because she was laughing so much, and the rest of room was right there with her.

"While I'm sitting there being my charming self, the kid holds out his hand, and gives me this little foil wrapped candy. And he says, 'Sharing is important.' He looked so damn serious that I had to take it. Then he ran back to those _gedin'la_ nexu beasts that he's got for _aliit_. I swear, I thought they were gonna eat me."

Darist couldn't breathe. She threw her cards down on the table and laughed into her hand.

" _Ori'haat_! Do _jetiise_ eat people? We don't know," Fenra joked.

Tal managed to get himself under control enough to throw a salted nut at him. "The _Mand'alor_ wouldn't let them stay here if they ate people."

"Or at least, only as long as they weren't going to eat _us_ ," Kree said with a laugh.

That wasn't objectively true. Darist had worked with Jaster for years. He wouldn't invite beings into their home if they were a danger to anyone here, and he _certainly_ wouldn't let them near his _ad'e_. Kree was probably mostly joking. Probably.

"They don't eat people," Darist said, throwing a nut at Kree. "Sifo-Dyas and the _jet'ika_ have gone to the kitchens a few times because the little one likes cooking."

Con'ak gave Darist an unimpressed look. "No _ad_ likes cooking at that age. They like making a mess."

Tal, Irre, and Zeiirk all snorted in amusement. 

Darist raised up her hands in surrender. "Don't look at me. I don't know that kind of thing. I avoid them when they're that little. Falin is the perfect _ad_. Someone else did all the hard work of teaching him to be a person, and now all I have to do is give him a little guidance, some armour, and a home. Good deal."

Now the rest of the _verd'e_ were laughing at her. She took it with good grace. 

"Seriously, though, the _jetiise_ seem mostly alright," Darist said, pointedly taking the focus of the conversation off of her skills, or lack thereof. 

"Dooku and his knights fought with us on Concordia," Fenra said, suddenly serious.

" _Mand'alor_ shared drinks with him," Kree said, which was as much as a vote of support from him. It said that the _Mand'alor_ supported Dooku's presence here, and _Haat Mando'ad'e_ went where their _Mand'alor_ led.

"They treat _ad'e_ like a treasure," Con'ak added. "Theirs and the _Mand'alor_ 's."

"The Mereels treat them like _aliit_ ," Tal added. "I don't know if you noticed it today, Darist. The long haired _jetii_ , Sifo-Dyas. He had one of his spells."

They'd all heard about how the visiting _jetii_ had collapsed a week or two ago. Apparently, he was infirm in some kind of way. There were rumors that it was some kind of Force _osik_ , and given what Sifo-Dyas had hinted at about seeing the future, she was inclined to think that was it. Darist hadn't gotten involved enough to get to the bottom of the matter yet. Maybe she'd ask Cody after a Council session one day soon.

"They were subtle about it, but they watched him, sat with him. Checked in with him and gave him water. It wasn't just for the _jet'ika_ 's sake. They treated him like _aliit_ ," Tal insisted. 

Darist leaned back in her chair and mulled that over. She'd caught that herself, but it was good to hear her assumptions confirmed by an outside source. If she'd seen it, and Tal had seen it, that meant that everyone else had too. Or at least they'd be hearing rumors of it by tomorrow. 

The rest of the room waited for her input. As Jaster's second, she often had a little extra insight and she wasn't shy about sharing it when she could. 

"The Armourer met with them," Darist said eventually. "More than once. Shared some history with the _jet'ika_ , I heard."

That was a damn big deal. That meant Ardanna approved of them. She wouldn't share her stories if she didn't. 

"Everything I've seen…" Darist paused to look around the room and gauge the temperament of the warriors around her. 

She'd always felt proud to be a part of Jaster's Headhunters. Being his second had brought out a sense of responsibility and a feeling of protectiveness that she hadn't expected. These were _her_ people. She wanted to do right by them and make the wisest choices that she could, knowing that they would do their best to follow her lead.

Everything she'd seen so far told her that Ben was a good person, a good _verd_ despite his age. Honorable. Just. Caring. After seeing Dooku with his _riduur_ and their _adiik_ , she felt like she'd taken a peek at the human being under the formal mask of Jedi Master. She was inclined to trust what she'd seen.

"I think this could be a good thing," Darist said. "They're different. Weird, sure. But… I think I could see them as _aliit_."

The rest of the room mulled that over in silence. 

"Besides, did you see how Dooku panicked when our group of _ad'e_ hugged him?" Darist added with a derisive snort. "I thought Sifo-Dyas was gonna kill himself trying not to laugh at his _riduur_."

Tal and Fenra just cackled, and like that, the gossip was off and running again. Darist almost wanted to take notes, so she could share the best bits with Jaster in the morning.

\--

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

After their reaction to seeing the teens they'd rescued on Concordia last rotation, Ben had known the seven of his men needed time to talk things out and decompress. 

They'd made a good start on it that night, with their training and drills, but he'd been able to sense that they hadn't quite finished working through their feelings. And so, shortly after firstmeal, he'd ended up taking his leave to give them some space.

Feeling the ups and downs in the network as his _vod'e_ alternately discussed serious topics and gossiped was normal, now, and Ben barely noticed those inputs anymore as he took his tea with his grandmaster and Master Sifo-Dyas. Obi-Wan had joined them at Master Dooku's table as he worked on his lessons, and had a cup of tea of his own beside him.

It was still so strange to him to have the chance to actually sit and talk with his grandmaster like this, as equals (their respective ages notwithstanding). It harmonised with the way he'd really only been able to do that with Master Yoda until he'd gotten flung back in time, and it was nice to get to know the man his grandmaster had truly been before the Dark Side had twisted him so.

Ben let himself smile as he held his cup up to his face and savoured the delicate scent of the brewing tea, his eyes falling shut briefly. "I know it hasn't been long," he said, as he looked back up at his grandmaster, "but what do you think of the new governor of Concordia?"

Master Dooku shrugged. "She is a politician, at heart. Her first big test will be bringing her new constituency in line with what the _Mand'alor_ expects. There are likely lingering pockets of Death Watch sympathisers, and merely rebuilding the local economy will be difficult without reopening more of the old _beskar_ mines than the New Mandalorians will allow."

"You knew that already, though," Master Sifo-Dyas put in, a hint of a knowing smile on his lips. "You have a plan, don't you, Ben?"

"It's not a plan," Ben answered. "Not yet. As you say, first the new governor must establish herself. I doubt it will take her long, though. Thalinn Bry'sta is hardly new to the scene, and, though she clearly also has her own agenda, she seems honest enough. For a politician."

Master Sifo-Dyas' knowing smile widened. "You're quite good at that," he said.

"Oh?" Ben grinned back, sure butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "Good at what?"

Shaking his head, his grandmaster gave him a wry smile of his own. "I don't know how I missed it, when first we met, or when I first came here with Mace and Qui-Gon, but you are obviously of our lineage."

That was bittersweet. "We do have something of a reputation, don't we," Ben answered, wondering how his life might've been different, had his grandmaster not left the Order when he did. "But to answer the question, I was considering outsourcing the glass production that I am aiming to get started here to Concordia. It would make a good source of legal income for them, and would also mean that Governor Bry'sta would owe us a favour."

Master Dooku nodded in approval. "That is a clever move, binding them more tightly to Mandalore."

"The more governors _buir_ and Jango can rely on, the better, when my _vod'e_ and I finally do get back to our proper place in the timeline," Ben responded.

"How do you intend to do that?" Master Dooku demanded sharply. "You said yourself that you had never experienced anything like the event that brought you here, so I fail to see how you could replicate it."

"We shall see," Ben responded lightly. "I don't know how yet, myself, but I was hoping that you and Master Nu might help me find out. Just because I have not come across anything like it before, and nor have you, does not mean it has never happened before. The Temple Archives might well hold the answer to this question."

He'd have gone on, but the network went... calm and flat in that way that he associated with his _vod'e_ practicing meditation. It had come on gradually, taking him slightly by surprise when the seven of his men finally did manage to center themselves and truly find their balance.

"Ben?" Master Dooku prodded at him.

He nodded back. "Oh, it's nothing serious. Do go on."

That got him a disbelieving look, but neither of the other masters commented.

After a beat, Master Dooku said, "I very much doubt there is anything like that in the Archives, Ben, or it likely would've come to light after the Council first heard of your existence."

That was a fair point. But on the other hand... "How thorough was the search they did?" He asked with a wry smile. "The Archives are vast. Even Master Nu doesn't know the full catalogue."

Master Sifo-Dyas snorted, making Obi-Wan look up from his lessons. "If you believe that Master Nu is not still digging through the stacks, you don't know her as well as we thought you did."

"Who's Master Nu?" Obi-Wan asked, sounding like the name was familiar but not quite falling into place in his memories.

"You have not met her yet, youngling," Master Dooku told him. "Master Nu oversees the Temple's Archives and before you spend time there, you must know your letters. Knowing more than one language helps."

Obi-Wan gave him a skeptical look. "I know enough," he said, clearly trying to weasel his way into getting something he thought was new and interesting. "I know most'a my letters now, an' I know Basic and some Mando'a."

"Alright, Obi-Wan," Master Sifo-Dyas agreed, not bothering to hide his amusement. "I'll take you to meet her once we're back on Coruscant."

Ben watched his grandmaster's face twist as he tried to decide how he felt about that idea and bit at the corner of his lip to keep from interrupting. Hints of amusement, mild horror, and intrigue were visible, but none of them came fully into view.

"You must remember, Obi-Wan," Master Dooku said seriously, "the Archives are a place of learning, and contain many very rare texts that can be easily damaged. Master Nu is very protective of them. If you do not follow her rules carefully, she will not let you stay."

Obi-Wan nodded seriously. "Yes, Master Doo."

Master Sifo-Dyas said something more, but Ben didn't hear the words, more focused on the way the entire network of _vod'e_ seemed to be caught up in a strong reaction to something. The seven of his men were all radiating apprehension-fear-anger, though they were apparently managing to keep it from reaching Obi-Wan.

What that implied...

Had the seven of them somehow worked out how to shield their connection to the little one without also blocking each other or him out? Or were they so focused on what was happening that they were simply automatically shielding themselves? But, no, if they were, then he wouldn't feel them this clearly. Something interesting was happening. Something Ben wasn't sure he'd ever observed before. Perhaps it was a characteristic of the network? The seven, or, well, nine of them seemed to react very differently to emotional and mental shocks than any other Force sensitive that Ben had ever worked with up to this point.

"Ben?" Master Dooku prodded at him, verbally, a second time. "You seem quite distracted today."

He wouldn't be able to put the masters off forever, and Ben knew it; odds were good that at least one of them had already pieced together the truth of the situation he and his _vod'e_ found themselves in with the complex network of Force bonds tying them together. Nevertheless, he answered carefully, so that Master Sifo-Dyas wouldn't have to worry about revealing anything too compromising to the Councilors back on Coruscant. "My _vod'e_ seem to have decided to attempt a meditation on their own," he said. "I told you once before that I can sometimes feel them from a great distance, did I not?"

Master Dooku nodded. "You did. You feel them now?"

"I do. As I said, I may be distracted, but it is nothing serious."

"You're not worried about them?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, youngling," Ben reassured him. "The seven of them can do just about anything they set their minds to, remember? You've said so yourself. My _vod'e_ are very competent and determined people."

Obi-Wan accepted that, then shoved his datapad at Master Sifo-Dyas. "Here, Master Sy! I finished it. Now can we play a game?"

Master Sifo-Dyas considered the datapad, then Obi-Wan. "You're sure you're finished?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

"You're not just telling me you're finished so that you can play?"

Master Dooku made a quiet amused huff of sound, but said nothing. Ben had to bite down on his own smile at the byplay.

Obi-Wan took back the datapad and started very earnestly pointing out everything he'd finished, item by item. "I did the animals, an' the colours, an' then the numbers, too."

"So you did," Master Sifo-Dyas agreed. "But what about the story at the end? Did you see it?"

"Story?" Obi-Wan perked up. "No! Where is it, Master Sy?"

Satisfied that the little one would be happily occupied trying to puzzle out the simple tale with Master Sifo-Dyas' help, Ben allowed himself the small smile after all, knowing it had to look wistful.

The network shuddered, ringing like a bell before going abruptly loose and relaxed. Ben hid his flinch at the sudden change as best he could. All of his _vod'e_ were filled with a sense of surprise-awe-wonder that contrasted so sharply with the apprehension-fear-anger of before that Ben wanted to massage his temples.

_Kark_ , but that had been a shock like falling a hundred meters into icy water.

His grandmaster gave him another long look, like he was trying to imitate Helix's attempts to do a medical scan with nothing but his eyes, then Ben felt a brush against his shields, and a second. Master Dooku exchanged a look with Master Sifo-Dyas and nodded. "Whatever you just sensed was strong. Likely enough that you wish to meditate on it yourself," he said, giving Ben an excuse to leave, if he wanted it.

In the network, he felt his _vod'e_ seem to uncurl, reaching out to one another with a kind of wonder that made Ben want to know if his suspicion -- that that orange adegan crystal had finally gotten to Wooley -- was accurate.

"I think... I think you may be right, grandmaster," he replied absently, standing and offering the three of them a bow. "I thank you all for the tea and the company."

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

As had become their habit, he and his _vod'e_ were breaking their fast with their _buir_ and _ori'vod_. The time together had been something they'd needed at first, a welcome touchstone and constant in their lives, after they'd gotten flung thirty years back in time. Now, it was more wanted than needed. Waxer enjoyed the meals he got to eat with his family around him, and he knew his _vod'e_ felt the same way. The network always seemed to glow with contentment in those moments, of late.

It was a bit more potent right now than sometimes.

After their impromptu strategy session the previous rotation, they'd spent an hour or so running their drills and working out some of their lingering stress and anxiety by shooting targets and generally proving to the world once again that they were more than capable of causing utter havoc when they chose.

It had been as effective as ever, and all seven of them and the General had felt parsecs better once they'd called a halt.

The tension in the network had simply been ... well, alright, it hadn't been _gone_ , but it had come back down to levels Helix would accept without repeatedly reminding them that stress was terrible for them, at their age.

_Stress is terrible for any being at any age_ , Waxer thought with a quiet huff of breath, and pulled his focus back to the meal in front of him.

"And will you be having tea with Master Dooku today, as you planned, Ben?" Their _buir_ was asking with amusement in his eyes, though he was careful not to smile. 

"Unless there is some task my expertise would be helpful for," Kenobi answered, "yes."

"If anything comes up, _buir_ or I will comm you," Jango put in. "Go enjoy your leaf water."

Kenobi gave him a disappointed look. "Clearly, my _vod'e_ came by their dislike of _leaf water_ honestly," he quipped, and Crys snickered.

"Caf is obviously the better choice," Jango shot back, and grinned at him.

Waxer, who knew Jango had specifically recruited Master Dooku and gone out to buy their General tea, scoffed. "Of course it is, _ori'vod_ ," he put in. "But tea seems to be as essential to the _jetiise_ as hyperdrive fuel is to a cruiser."

That got him chuckles from just about everyone at the table. "Point," Kenobi conceded, his laughter clear to see in his eyes and tangible in the network. "I trust you'll be able to find some way to keep yourselves entertained while I'm otherwise engaged, _vod'e_."

"I'm sure we'll think of something, sir," Helix answered.

And that was that. Their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ took their leave and exited the suite with the General in tow.

As the door slid shut behind them, Longshot let out a long breath that wasn't quite a sigh. "We have a few more things to discuss, don't we, _vod'e_?" Their sniper asked the room, knowing the answer before he voiced the thought.

"Definitely," Boil agreed, "but I don't think this calls for the sabacc deck."

"No," Wooley agreed. "That's more fun to do if we're discussing more risqué topics."

"What's on the docket for today, then?" The Commander demanded, sounding like he had an idea of what they wanted to hash out, but wanted explicit confirmation.

"Trying to hammer out what Ardanna means when she says 'This is the Way', mostly," Wooley said and ran a hand through his hair. "And I'm glad Helix and I explained the Force vision thing to her. She and Master Sifo-Dyas seem to be working their way to an understanding, now."

"Yeah," Helix muttered, "but that was only karking necessary because _jetiise_ react weirdly to normal people."

Waxer rolled his eyes at their medic. "No such thing as 'normal', _vod_ , and you know it. But you're not wrong. Being able to use the Force seems to make a being incomprehensible to the rest of us."

Wooley snorted. "That's one way to put it. General _Buir_ 's about as close as we've found to what we'd consider a sensible _jetii_."

"And considering how hard those Force visions seem to hit Master Sifo-Dyas and our General, I think it might be safer to say that the Force is using them than the other way around," Commander Cody said with a slightly pained expression. 

Boil made an amused sound. "Point taken, sir," he said. "But Wooley's right. Ardanna didn't make Master Sifo-Dyas uncomfortable, last time they were in the same room at the same time, and he didn't confuse her as badly. Both of those are good things."

"I still want to know why she keeps saying 'This is the Way'," Longshot interjected, pulling them back on track. "It's clearly some kind of ritual phrase, but I can't seem to work out what it means with any certainty."

"Maybe it's a blessing?" Crys suggested. "Ardanna does seem to be the single most important person in the Palace after _buir_. Even _ori'vod_ looks up to her like she's got some kind of unspoken authority."

"Hmm," Wooley considered that. "That's possible," he conceded, "but it doesn't quite fit. She uses it after she hands out advice, mostly. A blessing would imply permission or well-wishes."

The Commander leaned forward onto his elbows, where he was resting them on the table. "Ardanna definitely gives it that meaning as well, _vod_. If she hands out advice, it's with the intent of making sure that someone is successful in what they're attempting."

"So you think it's more of a, what? A kind of guidance, Commander?" Waxer guessed.

"Isn't that what giving advice is, _vod_? Guidance?" Crys asked him. "That sounds pretty plausible to me, sir." 

"Maybe," Boil suggested, "we should ask her? That seems to be one of her main functions."

The Commander nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe," he agreed.

Deeming that topic checked off by unspoken accord, all of them leaned back in their seats. Wooley jerked back upright with a surprised sound and reached behind his back to grope at his chair with a very strange expression on his face. In the network he felt confused-surprised-resigned -- as though he already knew what he would find. 

When he pulled out that bright orange kyber crystal that had -- according to both Kenobi and Dooku -- decided to follow him home of its own accord, Wooley made a face at it. "What do you want?"

Longshot snickered. "I don't think it can answer you, _vod_."

There was a weird tug in the network, though, a beat later, and Wooley looked like he wasn't sure whether to be more amused or weirded out. "Er, it definitely can, Longshot," Wooley replied, his unease clear in his voice. "I think it wants me to meditate with it?"

"Without the General?" Boil asked, "You okay to try that, _vod_?"

Wooley swallowed hard. "I-- I think I'd rather not try it alone?" He answered, obliquely asking them to help him out.

Waxer nodded. "We're here if you need us," he said firmly. "And if it would help, a few of us can try doing the group meditation thing with you."

That sent a feeling of warmth and light trickling through the network, through Wooley but definitely not coming from him. It was pleasant but oddly alien.

Helix cleared his throat. "Was that... was that your crystal, Wooley?"

Wooley nodded, wordlessly.

"It seems to want us to join in," Boil said and groaned. "But _why_?"

"Ask it yourself," Wooley retorted, finding his voice again. "I have no karking clue."

"I guess Master Dooku and the General weren't kidding when they said it was almost sentient," Waxer muttered. "This is so karking weird."

The seven of them exchanged looks, all of them a bit uncomfortable with the idea that they were contemplating taking directions from a semi-sentient _rock_.

After a moment, Helix sighed, audibly giving in. "You know what, I've seen the General pull off too karking many impossible things in the last two years. We may as well give this a chance, _vod'e_."

It was the damnedest karking thing, but Waxer swore that made the crystal _smug_.

Wooley gave it the stink eye. "Don't go getting any ideas," he told it. "We're still not very good at the whole meditation thing, so this might not work at all."

That didn't seem to matter to the thing one bit. If anything, it felt like the crystal was getting more insistent, giving the network the impression of wanting-to-speak-but-being-unable-to.

Huh.

Commander Cody caught Wooley's eyes. "Your lead, _vod_. You're the strongest of us, and Kenobi's student."

Wooley scoffed. " _All of us_ are Kenobi's students. You six just refuse to acknowledge it," he retorted. Then, getting out of his chair, he turned to leave the dining area. "Come on, _vod'e_. Might as well be comfortable while we do this."

"You know, we _could_ call the General in for an assist," Boil suggested.

Wooley was shaking his head before the sentence was finished. "I don't know why, but I need to-- no _we_ need to do this ourselves. I-- It's just a feeling, but that would be a mistake."

"Got to stand on our own at some point," Longshot said philosophically. "The General won't always be there to help."

"He'll do his kriffing best to be, if we need it," Crys agreed, "but we've never been dependent on anyone like that before, and I see no reason to start now."

Commander Cody nodded. "We'll support you, Wooley."

"If we fail, we can still ask General Kenobi to help us, later," Waxer put in. "We lose nothing in this attempt."

"Except a little sanity," Helix muttered. "We're taking orders from a _crystal_."

Wooley laughed. "The General would tell us it's the will of the Force, _vod_."

"That's the problem," Helix shot back, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his eyes.

Moving to take a cushion off the long sofa, then thinking better of it, Wooley settled himself against one of its arms instead, wordlessly signaling to the rest of them to join him.

"Get comfortable, _vod'e_ ," Helix suggested. "Something tells me this might take more than a minute or two."

They arranged themselves on the sofa so that they were all in physical contact, something they'd learned helped relax and center them, and had recently started doing before each attempt to practice meditation or shielding. All of them had a hand on Wooley, and they were reaching out to him in the network. It was physically impossible, but, somehow, every last one of them ended up with a firm grip on one of Wooley's forearms through their bonds and he was gripping back.

Without letting go, Wooley started leading them into a meditation. It was slow and deliberate in a way that the General wasn't. A little bit awkward and unpracticed.

But it worked.

Feeling like he and his five _vod'e_ were following Wooley on a patrol, watching their _vod_ 's back and each others' as they cautiously made their way through contested territory, all Waxer had time to feel was a prickling of the skin at the nape of his neck, and then it was like he was himself, and Wooley and Boil and the Commander, and all of the others, all at once.

He/they looked around, bewildered.

The sparsely forested landscape he/they'd been crossing had vanished, and in its place was what looked like the cramped room that he/Crys and he/Longshot had been held in on Concordia alongside the eight other captive _mando'ad'e_. A barren space, just big enough for the people who'd been held in it, containing nothing. Bare duracrete walls and floor, and a door he/they knew would be near impossible to crack.

Before he/they could so much as stand up to try to get out, though, the door opened, admitting a figure that he/they couldn't place. Neither _jetii_ , nor _Vod_ , nor _mando'ad_ , it was wearing a blank nondescript set of armour that could have been on any bounty hunter in the galaxy, the pieces scarred and mismatched.

The voice, too, was pitched perfectly to belong to any number of species and gave no clues to the being's gender or affiliation.

"Pathetic," it said, sounding disgusted, "can't even defend yourself."

He/they couldn't hold back the growl that rose in his/their throat, but he/they didn't speak. He/they'd been interrogated before. This was nothing new.

The being laughed nastily, reminding him/them of the way the Instructors had, anytime a _Vod_ had failed a test. Mocking. Cruel. _Fully aware of what would happen to the_ Vod _and uncaring of his fate._

He/they tried to stand and got yanked to a stop almost before the movement began by chains that held him/them secured to the blank floor and wall. How he/they hadn't noticed them before was a mystery to him/them, but that was secondary.

"What do you want?" he/they demanded, belatedly realising he/they wore no armour and had no weapons.

"I want you to defend yourself," it said, and tossed a lightsabre hilt onto the floor. _The General's lightsabre hilt._

A jolt of pure protective rage rushed through him/them. "What did you do to him?" He/they snarled.

All they got in answer was more mocking laughter. "He had faith in you to the bitter end, you know. But look at you. You've failed before you've even begun. Can't even pick up a weapon."

He/they looked at the 'sabre hilt, feeling a shudder run down his/their spine. _What if--_

_No,_ Vod, _don't think that. He's fine. He has to be fine._

"You're bluffing," he/they declared, yanking harder at the chains around his/their hands, trying to get free and failing miserably as the vaguely humanoid being laughed at them. 

"You think so?" It asked, nudging at the 'sabre hilt with its foot. "You'll never know unless you can get out of here."

His/their captor snorted in disgust. “You can’t do it, can you?” The being crouched down just behind the ‘sabre hilt and leaned in to peer at them. “You really are just useless copies, aren’t you? Engineered for obedience, and trained to heel. The perfect little weapons.”

The accusations crawled under his/their skin and writhed in his/their gut like worms. “No,” he/they denied, low and vicious. The General would never think of them that way. They had names. He/they had family and clan. And Kenobi was insistent that he/they were important to him.

“Yes,” the being hissed back. The word was filled with smug satisfaction. “Even slaves have more free will than you do. A slave might dream of freedom, but you were _designed_ to obey.”

His/their captor stood up and took a step back, as if distancing himself from something he found distasteful. “Well. Your inadequacies are my gain. I’ve broken your pretty little general, and found his tiny double, too. I wonder, is the little one a clone, like you? Do you think he’s been _designed_ to serve? Like _you_?” 

He/they didn’t need to see the being’s face to know that there was a smile on it.

“I’m looking forward to finding out.” The words were a low, excited growl. Then they turned mocking. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me, because _you can’t even will yourselves to try_.”

It was still _wrong_ to pick up a lightsabre -- let alone _the General's_ \-- with the intent of using it, but he/they had no choice. He/they had been backed into a corner, and their General needed them. Both of them did. Kenobi was almost certainly injured, and possibly worse, because he/they _couldn't karking make themselves pick up his weapon_ and use it to get to him... and the Cadet--

He/they cut off the thought, unwilling to let it take shape fully and took a steadying breath, banishing as much of the roaring flame of his/their anger and frustration as he/they could, then closed his/their eyes.

_For the General, for their_ aliit _, he/they would dare much._

The lightsabre hilt seemed to leap into his/their hand, igniting with a satisfyingly lethal hum as it flew through the air, and when it landed in his/their hands it made an almost physical _click_.

Before he/they could do more than cut through their chains with two almost desultory flicks of the 'sabre, the room seemed to dissolve around them, leaving them blinking their eyes open in their sitting room, to see a brightly glowing orange kyber crystal hovering in the air before them and seeming to beam at them in more than just a literal fashion.

Waxer looked over at Wooley and had to swallow. His _vod_ was older, about sixteen standard, at a guess, and looked so much like _ori'vod_ that it took Waxer a moment to realise who he was looking at. Wooley was staring down at a lightsabre hilt in his lap that very obviously wasn't the General's, and the kyber crystal that had been floating in the air had vanished from sight. Waxer knew without having to think about it that it was safely encased inside Wooley's 'sabre hilt.

A strangely comforting weight at his own hip made him look down, and he knew what it had to be.

Carefully, hesitantly, he unclipped it from his belt, and looked at it. The design was similar to the General's but Waxer knew it as intimately he did his _riduur_ 's skin and scars. It was _his_.

Helix was staring in wonder at his own lit 'sabre, the blade a bright shining teal. Waxer knew without having to ignite his own that it would be the blue of the oceans on Kamino when the planet's sun shone brightly, as it did so rarely. His _riduur_ 's was a few shades lighter, and Longshot's nearly matched Boil's in hue. Crys' was the bright blue of Ahsoka's montral stripes.

Commander Cody's 'sabre ignited with an almost resonant hiss of sound, and Waxer stared at it in awe. He'd never seen a 'sabre before that had two colours. The blade itself was a familiar, rich 501st blue but somehow shone a bright gold to match their own Battalion markings, casting strange shadows on the walls of the sitting room as he held it carefully aloft with an expression of mingled awe and determination.

The sound of their door hissing open and a familiar voice calling out for them shattered that... whatever it had been. A vision?

When Waxer blinked his eyes open a second time, he felt like he'd made a forty klick march in full gear, his hands were achingly empty, and General Kenobi was grinning down at them.

The room was back to normal around them. Wherever, whatever they’d experienced had disappeared like fog in bright morning sun.

Waxer let himself go limp against the back of the sofa. "Karking hells, that was tiring."

His _vod'e_ laughed, all of them sounding just as wrung out.

Wooley groaned. "You said it, _vod_. General, you could've warned us about this," he half-complained, holding up his kyber crystal, which was shining just as brightly as it had in their... it had to have been a vision. What the _kriff._ They'd all collectively had not one vision but _two_.

Kenobi shrugged. "Those sorts of tests must be met by the padawan without a master's help. All of you did wonderfully, though you did almost give me a migraine with the way that made the network react. Rest now, let yourselves recover. _Buir_ and _ori'vod_ will be here soon with midmeal."

In the network, Wooley felt a bit dazed, and he was staring down at his crystal like a _vod_ who'd just been presented with his first rotary canon. Besotted and a little bit awed. Through him, Waxer could feel that the karking crystal that had started this whole... mess of a meditation was radiating contentment and pleasure. There was a sense of _wholeness_ to it. Of _connection_. It was a similar kind of feeling to the one he'd gotten when the General had completed the force bond with him.

Maybe it _was_ similar.

Kenobi vanished into their dining area and came back with water for all of them. "Drink, _vod'e_ ," he demanded. "And don't hold back when we eat. You just expended a lot of energy."

Helix snorted. "So you're allowed to tell us that, but when I tell you the same it's incorrect?"

Kenobi smirked. "I'm better at managing my reserves than that and have had far more practice at using the Force than any of you," he replied, not unkindly. " _Morut'yc, vod'e_."

A silence reigned in the room, as they all let themselves equilibrate. Kenobi was right, Waxer had to admit with a grimace. All of his limbs felt like they'd had duracrete weights attached to them while he wasn't looking. If he'd had to, he was sure, he could've gotten up and run drills or dealt with whatever else was needful, but given the option to take his time and recover, he was karking well going to take advantage of it.

General Kenobi was the one to break their silence again, about a minute later. "Now that you've made your connection with your crystal, Wooley, you've taken your next step forward. That piece of kyber will go in your 'sabre once you're ready to build one." His smile was wry. "Perhaps you'll listen better than Anakin when I tell you that that crystal is your life. Guard it well, for if it falls into the wrong hands its connection to you could be abused."

Waxer had to wince. That sounded more dangerous than a simple weapon was worth. A deece ammo cartridge couldn't hurt you if an enemy picked it up, but this crystal could be used to hurt his _vod_ if it got lost or stolen.

"Me?" Wooley asked, sounding apprehensive, "You want _me_ to _build a lightsabre_?"

"What I want has nothing to do with it, Wooley," Kenobi responded. "You will. Your crystal will insist."

That sounded like pure fantasy on the surface, but Waxer knew just how accurate that likely was. He made a face.

"I really hate that you're probably right about that, General," Wooley agreed with a groan.

Laughing, their General shrugged. "It was the will of the Force that you would use this kyber crystal, and now that you have truly gotten to know it, not having a proper weapon will begin to nag at you. There's good reason why most temple initiates are eager to build their 'sabres, and do their best never to let their crystals out of their sight. You'll see."

That gave Waxer pause, and he felt the network echo it, all of them coming to a nearly simultaneous realisation.

The General had to have a connection like this with his own crystal. Or possibly that should be crystals, plural. But he had entrusted his 'sabre to the Commander many times, and the rest of the _vod'e_ present in the room had all retrieved it for him at least once. Granted, usually during training sessions, but even that was evidently enough to qualify, judging by Kenobi's description.

And it gave context and meaning to their vision that it hadn't had, before.

They'd subconsciously known that the General wouldn't be parted from his 'sabre easily, and that the mere fact that it was lying on the floor in front of them had to mean he was in danger. That they'd have to act or risk losing him forever.

And they had chosen to act.

They'd shoved aside all their unease and discomfort long enough to pick up that 'sabre with the intent to retrieve and protect. To heal if needed.

Helix caught his eyes and nodded.

"So what exactly just happened, General?" Boil asked. "I'm not sure I understood it."

General Kenobi gave them another smile, this one more happy than sardonic. "Based on what I could gather, it seems that Wooley's crystal wanted him to have some help, and the rest of you got dragged along for the ride," he said. "I'll have to see about arranging a trip to Ilum for all of us."


	50. Chapter 50

\--- POV: Wooley Mereel ---

_Force,_ but being ... connected? Force bonded? Allied? Allied might be the best word. Being allied to a kyber crystal was weird.

General Kenobi had made them take the rest of the rotation to rest after their meditation with it, and, Wooley had to admit, that had been the right decision. The seven of them had been tired enough to _devour_ midmeal and then curl right back up together once their _buir_ and Jango had left again, saying something about heading to the spaceport to pick up some unexpected delivery. Wooley had paid it little mind.

His crystal felt like it was _singing_ to him practically all the time over the connection they had now, a sense of contentment and relief underlying the unheard sound. The presence the crystal had was strong -- strong enough to feel like a _Vod_ in the network who was trying to get his attention -- and it was surprisingly distracting. Like a pylat bird that wanted attention. Or maybe the Cadet, when he wanted to play. Insistent, happy to see him and feel him. Excited. Eager.

Right now, that was novel enough to be more amusing than anything else, but if it didn't calm the kriff down sometime soon, the sensation could get irritating. Being this distracted during drills or -- Force forfend -- a mission would mean injuries or worse.

The crystal seemed to try to reply to that thought with what felt like reassurance. As though to say that it wouldn't allow him or his _vod'e_ to come to harm. 

How exactly it intended to do _that_ , Wooley was hard pressed to work out. And the crystal wasn't talking.

Well. Not in words at any rate. For a semi-sentient object that could apparently only communicate in emotions, the crystal was quite good at getting its point across.

_You got a name?_ Wooley asked it. He could just keep calling it 'the crystal', but that seemed vaguely disrespectful. He knew what it was like to be considered interchangeable. 

He got a sense of surprise and confusion in return. As though no one had ever asked it that question before. Perhaps no one had. Perhaps the _jetiise_ didn't talk to their kyber crystals the way he was trying to. Wooley had no idea what the protocols surrounding that kind of thing were. But his crystal didn't seem to mind at all. If anything, it was encouraging him to continue treating it like another _Vod_ with its delight and enthusiasm.

The crystal didn't answer him for a long time, giving him the impression of someone thinking hard, and when it did, it was with an imitation of their door chime.

That wasn't all that helpful or clear. Wooley silently rolled his eyes at it. _What does that even mean? Do you want to be called Chime?_

The question got him a response that felt like _close enough_.

It was a very strange feeling, getting emotions from Chime, for that matter. Akin to listening to someone who didn't speak Basic but was trying to sound out their words anyway. Heavily accented and strange but recognisable once you paid attention and got the hang of things.

And then, just as Kenobi had predicted it would, the crystal started to nag at him. Gently but insistently. Exactly what it wanted wasn't clear from its nagging, but, given the impression that he and his _vod'e_ had gotten from the piece of kyber -- _want to protect, but can't_ \-- Wooley was sure it wanted him to build that 'sabre he'd been carrying at the end of their collective vision.

The idea made him want to shake his head and sigh, but at least they and General Kenobi had talked this part through. He and his _vod'e_ would go along with the 'sabre training Kenobi wanted them to do, but even knowing that Tor Vizsla had carried the Darksabre and used it very effectively, it still felt uncomfortable to consider building or even using a lightsabre. That was their General's weapon. A _jetii_ 's weapon. Not a _Vod_ 's.

And yet in their vision all seven of them had had 'sabres of their own.

They'd clearly all gone on that trip to Ilum that General Kenobi had suggested and successfully found kyber crystals of their own. Which meant that at some point in the future they could and _would_ overcome the ingrained knee-jerk feeling of _wrongness_ that they all got anytime they considered picking up a 'sabre.

He wasn't sure what further meanings that vision might have. Did their crystals' colours mean something? Why were his and Helix's so different from the others'? Would their 'sabres have different strengths to correlate with their Force sensitivities? Was that even important at all? The way Kenobi talked about using a 'sabre, it didn't matter how sensitive you were. Just how disciplined and how skilled. And any _Vod_ could do that. They had those qualities in spades. But he was just guessing.

On the other hand, Tor Vizsla had been an expert with that Darksabre he'd carried. Kenobi had occasionally complained about General Skywalker's lackluster sabre skills, though. And General Skywalker was the most powerfully Force sensitive _jetii_ that Wooley knew of. It all _seemed_ to scan. To fit together.

He'd have to pin Kenobi down and ask him all of these questions at some point.

Later, when he wasn't so karking tired.

Wooley let his eyes drift down to the crystal cradled in his palms and felt like he might fall forward, freefalling towards its surface like he'd leapt out the door of a flying dropship. Like they had on Concordia. 

He had no idea how long he spent just staring at the bright orange crystal. At Chime. Running his fingers over it again made it seem to glow a little, a spark seeming to catch and hold roughly at its center.

"Wooley, _vod_ , are you _petting_ your sentient rock?" Crys asked him, making Kenobi chuckle.

"And if I am?" Wooley shot back, unperturbed, without taking his eyes off it.

Crys didn't have a ready answer for that. Clearly, the _di'kut_ had assumed he'd protest the accusation. Such as it was.

"If it's sentient," Wooley added, "why not, after all? Master Sifo-Dyas said he goes and visits the old 'sabres in the Temple armoury. As though they'd know that he'd been by. And if it's not? I've lost nothing. Besides. It's aware enough to pick a name."

"A name?" General Kenobi sounded intrigued. "Really."

"Well, yeah," Wooley answered absently. "I asked it if it had one."

"Huh. Alright, that's fair, I guess," Crys stumbled over his words a little. "But you're staring at it like it's the last glass of water on Tatooine."

Kenobi interceded. "You'll see when you get your own, Crys," he said, "at first it really is somewhat overwhelming."

"Somewhat overwhelming?" Crys echoed. "Wooley's petting that crystal like he thinks it's his _riduur_."

Waxer and Boil snorted. " _Vod_ ," Waxer said, "if you think that's how you're supposed to pet your _riduur_ , it's no wonder you haven't got one."

Before they could get into an argument, Commander Cody interjected, "You're not planning on trying to get to Ilum in the next few weeks, are you, General?"

"No, there are a few things that I need to set in motion here, first, and there's no immediate rush. We'll make the trip after I hear back from Ardanna about that glazier she's tracking down for me, and I can get them set up with the equipment they need to produce that new glass." Kenobi shrugged. "If I can, I'd like to discharge that debt before we go off-planet."

"And you think _buir_ will let us make the trip?" Boil asked him.

"He may insist that he and Jango join us, or perhaps that Master Dooku does," the General said simply. "Or that they all do, as the case may be. But, yes, I think he will."

"Master Dooku?" Longshot asked, puzzled. "Why Master Dooku?"

With an amused smirk playing at his lips, Kenobi started ticking points off on his fingers. "Master Dooku is still a member of the Jedi Order, and Ilum is very often visited by groups of padawans and their escorts. Having him there would lend us a layer of legitimacy we wouldn't otherwise have. Having him there would -- probably -- satisfy _buir_ that we'd be well protected enough that he could let us go without worrying a hole in his stomach. In the event that we are attacked by pirates, having a second swordsman of his calibre would be a big help, especially now that he knows the blaster practice drill. And, last but certainly not least, I expect he would like to replenish his stash of kyber crystals, after having given up three of them at once."

Wooley had to admit, that was a lot of good reasons in favour. "I'm fine with it," he said, most of his attention remaining on the crystal in his hands. "What I want to know is, where do I keep mine? I have a feeling Chime will just follow me around the palace if I try to put it down."

Kenobi considered that for a moment, then gave him a wry smile when he managed to tear his eyes away long enough to look up. "Most padawans simply put it in a zippered pocket in their robes, but I suppose you don't have that option. One of your belt pouches would likely be the most easily workable solution, though you'll want to pad it with something soft."

Time slipped away from him again, after that, and when next he roused from the half-trance he'd landed in, his _vod'e_ were standing and stretching. Wooley did the same, debating what he could use to line his belt pouch, as Kenobi had suggested, and coming up with nothing. He didn't want to destroy any of the fancy clothes his _buir_ had gotten him, even if it was looking like he'd never wear any of them, and he literally owned nothing else in the way of textile goods.

"Here," the General said, holding out a long strip of beige cloth.

Wooley recognised the soft worn fabric as having come off the remains of his General's robes, and had to swallow at the reminder of their past lives. Taking it, carefully, he wrapped it around his kyber crystal a few times, then tucked the whole mass into a hastily emptied belt pouch. He was fairly sure he wouldn't be needing the navigational aids that were usually kept there anytime soon, and if he did, one of his _vod'e_ was sure to have a set he could borrow.

When they exited their sleeping quarters, their _buir_ and Jango were already present, and talking amiably with Masters Dooku and Sifo-Dyas... who were both eyeing the box on their dining room table as though it contained multiple primed thermal detonators.

General Kenobi stopped short when he spotted it. "Oh. Oh no."

Jango snorted. "That's almost exactly what Master Sifo-Dyas had to say. What the karking hells is in that box that's so bad? And why was it addressed to your _vod'e_? Who the kriff do you know on Coruscant?"

"Besides Masters Plo and Windu?" Commander Cody asked wryly.

The General had joined the other two masters in looking like he wanted to jettison the box into the nearest sun and be done with it. "Cody, that box contains the cookies you were threatened with. I'm certain of it."

Master Dooku looked only slightly less concerned. "They were sent _cookies_? In a box this well-sealed? From _Coruscant_?"

"I'm afraid so," Kenobi replied. "I expect it's the price incurred for the method they chose to implement to ensure that the Council would see their request to have Master Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan be allowed to visit."

"Ah." Master Dooku nodded shortly. "Then the rest of us had best ensure we are elsewhere when that box gets opened."

Waxer and Boil exchanged a look.

"They're not really that bad... are they?" Helix asked. "Serious answer, please. We all thought the stories were exaggerated for effect."

"I strongly recommend opening that box outdoors," Master Dooku said simply. "The smell... lingers."

"Or we could just incinerate the whole box right now," Jango suggested. "If they're that bad, there's no need to punish ourselves."

"Trust me, Master Yaddle -- I assume this was her doing -- will ask about them," Master Sifo-Dyas said quietly. "She'll want to know whether you tried them or not."

"We never promised her we would try them," Longshot pointed out, but he didn't sound entirely certain.

"No, _vod_ , we didn't," Boil agreed, and Longshot relaxed.

Crys poked at his wrist comm for a moment, then nodded. "We didn't. Thank the Force. But she did say she wanted to meet the General someday."

"That can probably be arranged," Kenobi said, and Wooley heard the well-hidden note of longing in his voice only thanks to Kenobi's feel in the network.

"If you do decide to forego all sense of self-preservation and common sense," Master Dooku said -- the words making Wooley give him a glare, because no _jetii_ had any room to criticise anyone else about that sort of thing -- and shuddered, "make sure you're in a well-ventilated area or outdoors when you open that box. Do not do it after a meal, or you will risk making yourselves quite violently ill. Should you take your destinies into your own hands and dare to _eat_ any of those cookies, be sure to try it on an empty stomach."

General Kenobi nodded, and added. "I must agree with Master Dooku on this, _vod'e_. And, while I do expect you'll have precisely no desire to eat any of those cookies, even should your curiosity get the better of you, do not under any circumstances breath through your nose, especially not after taking a bite. Get a cup of something very hot and very fragrant to stick under your nose to help drown out the stench. Tea is the best. Caff or sweet drinks will only mix with the stench and make it that much more revolting. If you smell herbal infusions, it can help lessen the inflammation in your sinuses."

Helix growled something uncomplimentary under his breath. " _Inflammation_?"

Master Sifo-Dyas made an amused sound. "It is no more harmful than the spicy foods popular here on Mandalore. Just... far less pleasant."

Crys sighed. "I get the feeling that's an understatement."

Commander Cody squared his shoulders, and Wooley knew that posture. The nonverbal cue, usually a prelude to battle, made him straighten up, himself. His _vod'e_ followed suit around him.

"All of that is good to know, and we'll keep it in mind, if and when we decide to open the box," their Commander said, carefully avoiding saying yes or no.

"I still say we should incinerate it," Jango muttered, getting a round of chuckles from everyone present.

"What we should do," the _Mand'alor_ suggested pointedly, "is enjoy latemeal and then get some rest."

Crys made a disappointed sound.

"What is it, _ad_?"

"I was kind of looking forward to sending those corpse flowers," Crys explained.

"You still could, _vod'ika_ ," Jango pointed out.

"Sure," Waxer agreed, "we could, but then we'd get more cookies, or something the General will tell us is even more horrifying."

Boil nodded. "We aren't forced to open this box, and unless we do, there's no reason for us to retaliate."

"It's tempting, though," Longshot chimed in. "Just imagine the holo footage we could get if we timed it right and made sure Master Plo was in the room. His antitox mask would filter it right out."

Master Dooku shook his head, but Wooley could feel his amusement. "A clever plan," he said, "but bear in mind that poking a sleeping gundark is very rarely a smart thing to do."

General Kenobi made an amused sound of his own. "A very good point," he said. "Come, _vod'e_ , let's eat. You can decide what to do with that box later."

Their _buir_ chuckled and led the way to their dining area. "Yes, let's. I don't know about the rest of you, but I want something to fill my stomach with."

Reminded of just how hungry they were, he and his _vod'e_ didn't hesitate. They followed their _buir_ eagerly into the large room with its long oval table and took their now usual seats. Commander Cody was sandwiched between Kenobi and the Cadet, as always, Waxer claimed the seat on the Commander's other side. Boil slid in beside him, giving his _riduur_ a carefully hidden caress to the nape of his neck as he moved. Wooley bit down on the need to roll his eyes at them. At this rate, the pair of _or'dinii'se_ were going to give themselves away to the _jetiise_ , too.

He claimed the seat next to Boil, near the end of the table, and Helix the open one beside him. Crys snagged the next, and Longshot the one next to Jango. Their _buir_ surveyed them as he took his place next to their _ori'vod_ and the two _jetiise_ took their places.

As they dug into their meals, their _buir_ asked them, "So am I going to regret it if I ask what tired all of you out, _ad'ike_?"

The seven of them exchanged looks, then one by one, they caught Commander Cody's eyes and tugged at him in the network, knowing he'd understand. _Your call, sir_.

"It's tough to explain, _buir_ ," the Commander said after a moment.

Master Sifo-Dyas caught their eyes one by one and smirked at them a little bit. "Because it has to do with whatever had Ben so distracted earlier?"

General Kenobi gave him a sardonic look. "I'll let that pass, because I know you've never yet had a padawan of your own, Master Sifo-Dyas," he drawled, "but teaching a group as ... adventurous as my _vod'e_ lends itself to some worry, occasionally."

Master Dooku and their _buir_ exchanged a look, apparently seeing the truth in that statement and agreeing.

"I have not, no," Master Sifo-Dyas acknowledged, "but Obi-Wan shares that same quality."

Wooley couldn't help the amused huff that he made, and several of his _vod'e_ echoed it. "Is that meant to be a compliment or not, master _jetii_?" He asked.

"Yes and no," Master Sifo-Dyas shot back with a smirk, making Jango groan.

"All of you _jetiise_ are just trained to be cryptic," their _ori'vod_ grumbled.

Kenobi laughed outright. "Well, yes," he agreed simply.

They spent the remainder of the rotation resting, doing some stretches and going out for a couple of laps around the palace, just so that they wouldn't end up with too much pent up energy to sleep, despite everything, and then bedded down with their General.

The next rotation also passed quietly. General Kenobi waited until after Wooley finished his lesson with Ardanna -- she was starting to let him take on more complex projects, which was exciting -- to sit them all down and give them all a quick overview of what would happen when they eventually made the trip to Ilum.

It turned out to be a very quick and simple briefing, with a feel much like the ones they'd used to have aboard the _Negotiator_ and the _Resolute_. Kenobi caught Commander Cody's eyes, and the two of them had one of those silent conversations they were known for. It wasn't anything to do with the network. They just knew and understood each other that well.

It didn't take much more than that. A couple of words from the Commander had them all assembled at attention in front of their pair of intrepid leaders.

"I wanted to make sure that the seven of you had time to think this over and ask questions, if any occur to you," Kenobi told them. "To make the trip to Ilum is to submit oneself to the will of the Force in the quest to find the kyber crystal that will best enable one to overcome future challenges."

All of them quietly watched him. There had to be more.

With a nod, Kenobi went on. "Once we arrive there, you will need to undertake that quest, if you truly wish to follow the path that I'm offering you. As we talked about, simply learning how to use a 'sabre doesn't make you a Jedi. Nor does undertaking the crystal quest. No one -- least of all me -- will find you lacking if you decide to decline to do this. It isn't without its dangers, and success is by no means a guarantee, even for a well-prepared initiate."

Wooley dared meet Kenobi's eyes and silently ask for the floor.

"Yes, Wooley?"

"So what is this quest, exactly? If we do it, what's expected? What are the mission parameters?" He asked, prodding at their General for more of the relevant information. They would have what they needed to make an informed decision. Wooley would make sure of that.

The question got him a smile. "There will be a short hike to the cave entrances. You'll want cold weather gear for that, as Ilum isn't known for its beaches. Once we get there... the entrance itself is protected by a small Jedi temple that grants access to the caves, which are blocked by a large fall of ice until the light of the local sun hits the reflectors mounted to the entrance hall ceiling just right. Once those are positioned correctly, the sun will melt the ice away and any of you that choose to enter will have approximately 14 standard hours' time to complete your quest and exit, or call it quits and throw in the towel. And you must be aware that maps will not avail you. Nor will your chronos. The caves are found at a locus of the Force and that has been known to render such things as time and space meaningless."

_What._

The single disbelieving word felt like it echoed through the network, and Kenobi smirked at them. "You'll see, should you decide to enter. Instinct and the Force will be your guides. Not tech and logic. That, I suspect, will be the biggest hurdle for a group like you, _vod'e_. It's also very likely that you will end up having to leave your _vod'e_ and venture into the tunnels alone to find your crystal, should you undertake the quest. The very personal nature of the bond between a kyber crystal and its wielder all but requires this. But we can prepare and practice for both of those eventualities."

Wooley bit down on the exasperated groan that felt like it caught in his throat.

"You'll have some time to get used to the idea," Kenobi reassured them, his amusement audible, now. "We'll do some more meditation and shielding practice, and there are some drills that we can do to help you learn how to follow the Force more easily."

That turned out to mean that, when they made their way down to the training yard later in the rotation, Kenobi insisted that they run some drills while blindfolded.

Needless to say, all of them spent almost as much time swearing at him and each other as they did running the drills. They all felt clumsy and uncoordinated, and it was far more difficult than any of them had thought it would be to follow through on any of their drills without access to their sight. Longshot, in particular, had a difficult time, his sniper training insisting that if he couldn't see a target he couldn't aim effectively without a spotter.

Kenobi took it all in stride, ignoring their frustration and annoyance every time, and simply making them try again whenever they faltered. Wooley had to admit, it was _karking weird_ but after what had felt like a few dozen attempts it did almost feel like he could feel his target well enough to aim his blaster at it.

Sharing the feeling and the memory of how he'd done that with his _vod'e_ had given the others a leg up, and smoothed out their practice significantly.

When their General finally let them stop and take off the blindfolds, all seven of them were flagging, worn down physically and mentally. The Cadet and his masters had joined them in the training yard at some point during their practice, and neither he nor his _vod'e_ had even noticed, in their focus. Now, the Cadet came bouncing over to them, his masters following a short distance behind him with fond indulgent expressions, and wrapped his arms around Cody's waist.

"Cody! Master Sy said I had'ta wait until you were done practicing before I could give you a hug," he explained.

Waxer laughed. "He did, huh? How'd you know we were done?"

The Cadet grinned up at him. "You took your blindfolds off."

Master Sifo-Dyas nodded, backing him up. "That is one of the standard exercises we use at the Temple," he added. "Though it is generally used for younglings Obi-Wan's age, rather than the older crèchelings."

General Kenobi shrugged. "It remains one of the most effective methods I know of to teach anyone not to rely on their sense of sight, which can easily deceive them," he said. "Temple crècheling or not, it's a worthwhile skill for a warrior to have."

The Cadet nodded along seriously. "It's hard at first, but it helps," he said quietly.

Wooley knew better than to dispute that.

Thankfully, the rest of the rotation passed without much excitement. The seven of them, worn out as they were, managed to find the energy to play with their Cadet for a while, and then simply made their way back to their suite to shower and rest.

Helix insisted that they get themselves fed before letting themselves sprawl out on their mattress, and Kenobi backed him up, pointing out that what they'd just done was similar in intensity to the meditation that had wiped them out so thoroughly the previous rotation, but that was about all they still had the stamina for. Fed and clean, they stripped their armour off gratefully and curled up together with Kenobi firmly pinned down at the center of their comfortable tangle, meditating and watching over all of them.

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

It had been a quiet day. Breakfast was a bit more subdued than usual. The morning passed without interruption, which was only mildly unusual. Young Obi-Wan had a habit of finding interesting places to drag Sy to before or after their lessons, and Yan was occasionally swept up into it as well. Sometimes all he got was holos sent from Sy, showing what they were up to. 

Today, there was none of that. Just the regular morning work with the council.

It didn't strike Yan as truly strange until Ben and his _vod'e_ didn't join them for lunch. Jaster and Jango were both there. Neither of them looked particularly upset, so Yan had to conclude that nothing drastic had happened. 

Obi-Wan didn't seem surprised that the rest of the younglings were absent. He did seem despondent about it.

After some polite chatter about potential lodging sites for the Agri-corps, Sy finally addressed the bantha in the room.

"Is everything alright with Cody, Ben, and the rest?" Sy asked delicately. 

He glanced towards the empty chairs at the large oval table that they all sat at. More often than not, the group of them ate dinner in either the suite the _vod'e_ occupied or in Yan's dining room, but the location for lunches changed from time to time. Today they were at one of the smaller eating halls near the kitchen. There were scattered tables around the room, and a few off-duty _verd'e_ were eating their own midday meals as well. All of them were far enough away to give their _Mand'alor_ some privacy.

Jaster grimaced and breathed out a sigh. "They're as alright as they can be, I guess. Today is their Remembrance Day."

" _Osik_ ," Jango said, and then cast a panicked look at Obi-Wan and Sy, clearly just realizing that he'd cursed. "Sorry. I mean, damn. That's where they all vanished to?"

"I'm unfamiliar with the practice," Yan said. He quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at Jaster.

Jaster took a bite of his sandwich and chewed as he mulled over how to answer.

" _Mando'ad'e_ have a particular ritual for remembering their dead," Jaster said eventually. He took a sip from his drink and leaned back in his chair. " _Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_. It means, 'I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.' Traditionally, we take some time every day to do our Remembrances. We say that prayer, and list off the names of our dead. It's important."

He paused to take another drink. 

Yan followed his body language and did the same. Something about this nagged at him in the Force. _Here_ , it said. This would help him understand the people he would be working with for possibly a very long time.

"We also don't really think of those closest to us as dead," Jaster continued. "It's…" He shook his head and winced. "Ben tried to explain what _jetiise_ think about the afterlife, and it's… actually not that much different than what we believe. He said that all _jetiise_ become one with the Force when they die. For _Mando'ad'e_ , our will, our passion, our dedication to the _Resol'nare_ , is part of the _Manda_. It is our soul, one we all share as _Mando'ad'e_ and what we return to when our souls are done with our bodies. To lose the Way is to become _dar'manda_ , soulless, and bereft from the cultural whole, never to join with our kin. So when a loved one dies, we say they are ' _nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la_. Not gone, merely marching far away."

"There is no death, there is only the Force," Sy said quietly.

"Just so." Jaster nodded at him. "To say the names of our dead lets them know that we have not forgotten them, while they march far away. They are still with us as a part of the _Manda_ which fills all _Mando'ad'e_."

He crossed his arms and went quiet.

Jango picked up the narrative. "Remembrances usually only take a short while. Maybe a half-hour or an hour if the person saying them has lost many. Some people like to think or speak on favored memories. Sometimes people do their Remembrances together, if they are mourning the same people or are particularly close. Ben… Ben told _buir_ that his _vod'e_ have so many names to say and it took so long to think about them all that they couldn't do them every day. They take one day a month to do it."

Yan closed his eyes. His face went cold and his stomach turned. 

A whole day just to list off the number of dead that they mourned. _Force_. 

There was the sound of dishware moving, and Yan opened his eyes to see that Jaster had gone back to his meal.

"Ben said he never joined them, he didn't feel like it was his place and he had his own ridiculously long list of names to say," Jaster said. "He's with them today, though. I… hope that it helps." For a split second, he made a pained face, and then applied himself to his food.

"They're so sad," Obi-Wan said woefully. He'd been very quiet during the meal, methodically picking at food that he would normally be enthusiastic about. "They're all shielded up so I c'n't hardly feel 'em, but what I can feel is _so sad_. I don't know how to make it better."

Yan exchanged a subtle look with Sy. Obi-Wan was gifted in the Force, but he wasn't a skilled master like Ben. Nor was he so powerful that he could pick up emotions through Ben's shields in a way that Yan or Sy could not.

_Definitely some Force bonds there, then, and Obi-Wan has them as well,_ Yan thought.

Not that this changed much for him. The High Council was unlikely to bring up the subject to him as long as he was stationed on Mandalore. Sy, on the other hand, might have some issues. 

Yan brushed his mind up against Sy's, politely asking without words for a connection. The sensation of welcome he got in return warmed him to his toes.

_Perhaps you should mention to Obi-Wan that he stay relatively quiet on the subject of his Force bonds_ , Yan thought at him.

He got back a wave of acknowledgement along with a burst of affection.

_Might be a lost cause_ , Sy sent back. _He is a very honest child. I have another idea, though. There are several cultures of Force sensitive peoples in the galaxy. There must be precedent for Jedi with culturally accepted light Force bonds with groups._

That was brilliant. Yan flashed Sy a small smile, and they allowed their minds to disengage. 

Yan turned his attention back to Obi-Wan, who looked as miserable as a tiny child could be without actually crying. Force, but he wasn't quite sure what to do about that. 

He held back a grimace. This was probably going to backfire.

"When I was a young man, my master advised me on such things," Yan began, catching Obi-Wan's attention. He'd caught Jaster and Jango's, too. They weren't his target audience, so he ignored their interest. "He would remind me of the Code. There is no death, there is the Force. There is no emotion, there is peace. It is very painful to feel others in distress, though, is it not?"

Obi-Wan nodded furiously. "I want to help 'em, but I don't know how."

"That type of kindness is what is called 'compassion'. It means you feel another person's distress and feel the need to help. It is a virtue that all Jedi should strive to cultivate. But this is more than just compassion, isn't it? You would want to help anyone in distress, but these are your _vod'e_. You want to help them especially because you care for them, is that right?"

Yan tilted his head to watch Obi-Wan.

Again, Obi-Wan nodded. "They should be happy! 'Nd I know bad stuff happened." His voice dropped to a mumble as he said, "Lots of bad stuff." He frowned and wilted for a moment. Then he perked back up. "I just want to fix it."

He looked at Yan with such intensity, such earnestness, that Yan's heart went out to him.

"Some things cannot be fixed, my young friend," Yan said quietly. "Your _vod'e_ cannot erase the sad things that happened to them and their loved ones, but by allowing themselves time to address the matter and properly grieve, they can keep those negative emotions from consuming them."

"Like they're releasing it to the Force?" Obi-Wan looked puzzled. 

Jaster and Jango looked comically lost at that comment, like Obi-Wan had started speaking Ancient Sith instead of Basic. 

"Similar, I would guess," Yan said. "But Jedi work differently than most people. We cannot dwell on negative emotion. It is dangerous, for that brings temptation from the Dark side. So, you can feel their sadness and their upset, and you want to help them move on, to release it, yes? Because that is what we as Jedi are trained to do."

"Yes! That's it!" Obi-Wan bounced in his seat a little. "They can't-- If they get all stuck in their head, it might be bad! What they're doin' isn't working because they're still _sad_."

Yan nodded and took a breath. Sy's Force presence brushed up against his shields, offering support and encouragement. 

"They have not been raised as Jedi are," Yan reminded him. "They have different rituals and different methods for moving on from loss. That isn't wrong. It's just different. You see the situation as a Jedi sees it. You see that their attachment to their past and to their lost loved ones is bringing them sadness and regret."

"Master Yoda said that fear and sadness c'n lead to anger, 'nd anger to hate, 'nd hate to suffering," Obi-Wan said sagely. 

"This is true, they can, especially for a person trained in the use of the Force." Yan paused to attempt to put his thoughts into order. 

Force, but this was a difficult concept to explain to an adult, let alone a child. Children had to learn sometime, though.

Jaster and Jango were now watching them with a look of wide-eyed dubiousness. As Force nulls, they would likely never be able to grasp the dangers of the Dark side, or how powerfully negative emotions could influence a Force user. It still might benefit them to hear this, to at least see what perspective Obi-Wan, and likely Ben as well, were coming from.

"Master Yoda would tell us to let go of all that we fear to lose, and this is why. Because when love turns into attachment, it fosters possessiveness. The need to control and dominate. Your _vod'e_ are grieving, and you want them to be happy. With the deaths of their loved ones so fresh in their minds, they feel their loss keenly. If you could _make_ them be happy, would you?"

"Yes, of course!" Obi-Wan said immediately. 

Yan raised an eyebrow at him.

Obi-Wan hesitated, and then wilted a little. "That's good, isn't it?"

"Is it good to take another sentient being's will away from them, and _force_ them to act how you would rather them act?"

"No, that's wrong!" 

Yan nodded. "What if they were doing something that you didn't like?"

Obi-Wan frowned in thought. "Still probably not alright for me to make them do something."

"Exactly so. And tell me, do you think this sadness that your _vod'e_ are feeling is harmful to them or others?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. He snapped his mouth shut and made the grumpiest face ever as he tried to puzzle through that.

"This is a little deep for a five year old, isn't it?" Jaster asked Yan quietly.

Yan tilted his head in acknowledgement. "We can feel the emotions of others, and we have the power to enforce our will upon the universe around us. It is never too early to start teaching a Force sensitive child about ethics."

"Point." Jaster tipped his head to him.

"Jedi do not mourn their dead. We rejoice, for they have joined the Force and will be with us always. We are taught not to feel sadness at death, that death is not a loss. There is no death. As my master would say, we are not this crude matter." Yan plucked at his robes and then gestured towards all of them. "Luminous beings, are we."

"Fine words, but tell that to someone who's just seen their brother killed. Or just lost a spouse," Jaster said acidically. 

"Yes," Yan said, a trifle sadly. "We are still mortal beings. We feel loss, we grieve, we hurt. As Jedi, we try to release those feelings, lest they consume us. Those _vod'e_ learned a different way to deal with those emotions. They set them aside, giving them a specific time and place to be experienced, allowing themselves the space to feel what they need to while also keeping those negative emotions from growing and becoming unmanageable." Or at least, that's what he guessed was going on. It seemed like a sound assumption.

"You're saying I can't make them feel better," Obi-Wan said, looking heartbroken.

"I'm saying that they are choosing to spend this time acknowledging their grief," Yan corrected. "It is their choice, and it would be wrong of you to take that away from them. Nor can you _force_ them not to feel it, just as you wouldn't want someone else to force you to not feel something."

"But…" 

Yan waited, but it seemed that Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to say.

"That doesn't mean that we can't make their task easier, or support them once they are done doing that which they feel they need to do," Yan offered. "I have faced a great deal of loss in my life, and it has always been a comfort to me to know that Master Sifo-Dyas is there for me to talk to or sit with if I am upset. His presence alone helps me to feel better."

Sy's Force presence curled around him, radiating pleasure and love. Yan leaned into it.

As time had gone on, they'd had less and less opportunity to be there for each other in this way. Between Sy's duties and Yan's missions and growing irritation with the High Council and the Senate, they weren't often at the Temple together. Regular holocomms weren't the same as meeting in person. 

Having Sy here with him on Mandalore, where they didn't have to hide their affection for each other quite as much as they would at the Temple, was a boon. And a whole month together! It had been ages since the last time that had happened. It made him realize how much he'd missed it.

"So," Yan continued, "you know that this ritual is a thing that your _vod'e_ want to do, or feel that they need to do, even though it makes them sad. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they saved all their sadness during the month for this one time to feel it. Their choices should be respected. Knowing that, what can we do to help them shake that sadness off once they are done?"

This was something that Obi-Wan grasped immediately. "'Sabre practice! It's so much fun, and it always makes me feel better! And hugs. We should give them all the hugs," he added with a serious nod.

Jaster snorted. " _All_ of the hugs?"

"Yes. _All_." Obi-Wan looked ready to charge off and make it happen.

"Are all your conversations with _ad'e_ like this," Jango asked Sy. He was shaking his head a little, as if he still could not quite believe the topic at hand.

"It isn't uncommon," Sy said, amused. "Jedi do not have the luxury of avoiding that which is unpleasant, or disregarding the potential dangers of the power we wield, though Obi-Wan does seem to spark these conversations earlier than most... which isn't unexpected given the circumstances." He shrugged.

"Ah." Jango still looked skeptical. 

"Always remember to think before you act, Obi-Wan," Yan said, catching the boy's attention. "What is right for you may not be right for others. Even others that you care about. Consider the situation carefully and keep in mind cultural differences and personal experience."

"Yes, Master Doo, I will."

"How long do the younglings usually take for their Remembrances?" Sy asked Jaster.

"Last time, they spent most of the day on it. We met up with them for latemeal and then they went to bed early," Jaster said.

Sy hummed and tapped a finger on the table. "Then we should plan for a meal, at least. Obi-Wan, would you be able to tell us when you think they will be done so that we can prepare?"

"Yeah, I c'n do that!" Obi-Wan screwed up his face in thought and stared off into nothing. "It'll be a while, I think. Maybe not all afternoon, but a while."

"Then we have time to set things up. _Mand'alor_ , would it be possible to have the palace chefs cook the younglings' favorite dishes?"

"Already got that taken care of," Jaster said with a rueful smile. 

"Master Dooku, do you remember how to make Tsunarri Caff Cake?" Sy asked. 

It was a ridiculous question. Of course Yan knew how to make Tsunarri Caff Cake. It was one of the few special occasion recipes that he knew.

"You want me to make them dessert?" Yan asked flatly. 

Sy just grinned at him. "They'd enjoy it, and it's such a good dish."

Yan grumbled under his breath, but didn't offer any further resistance. Making sweets for children wasn't high on his list of fun activities to do.

He was perhaps only a little secretly pleased that Sy liked his cooking. 

"I can help, I can help!" Obi-Wan bounced in his chair.

"You can finish your meal," Yan told him, and pointed towards Obi-Wan's half eaten food.

"Oop." Obi-Wan looked guiltily at the plate and began eating once again.

Jango snickered and Jaster grinned. 

"If you would distract the youngling with 'sabre practice this afternoon while I attempt to not make a mess in the kitchen, I would appreciate it," Yan said to Sy. He gave Sy a sideways glance, implying very heavily that this distraction was the least that Sy could do after volunteering him to bake.

Force. _Baking_. Yan wasn't terrible at it, but he almost never had time to do such things. Fortunately, Tsunarri Caff Cake was made of very easy to find ingredients, and other things were easily substituted for the one or two that might be an issue.

"I don't suppose you have any Corellian rum, _Mand'alor_?" Yan asked. 

Jaster raised an eyebrow at him and a slow grin spread across his face. "You looking to get trashed at just the thought of cooking?"

Yan snorted. "Hardly, though it is tempting. No, Tsunarri Caff Cake requires a bit of rum to mix in with the caff, and Corellian rum is simply better."

"I've never wanted to learn baking more than I do right now," Jango said seriously.

Sy barked out a laugh. "Wait 'til you taste it. Your _vod'e_ are gonna fall in love."

"Can I have some too?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Chew with your mouth closed, youngling," Sy said automatically. "And you will not be getting any rum, Corellian or otherwise."

"I'll let you smell it," Yan said. "A liquor's smell is very distinctive and can tell you a lot about the drink. And… perhaps a drop of a taste, so that you know that alcohol burns."

Sy gave him a look, which Yan ignored. 

Obi-Wan gasped. "It burns? Like the Dark Side Meat?!" He made a comically horrified face. "No, thank you. I don't want it if it burns. Can I have the cake, though, please?"

"I'll make some with no-stimulant caff, so that he can try some," Yan said. There wasn't a lot of caff in the dessert to begin with, but Obi-Wan was a tiny child. A little went a long way.

"That means yes!" Obi-Wan jittered in place, waving his hands back and forth with delight.

"In the meantime, there is something else you can do for your _vod'e_ ," Sy said. "Something I think you may already be doing without really thinking about it."

"What's that?" Obi-Wan looked at him with wide eyes.

Sy reached out into the Force and filled the area around them with the sense of peace and comfort. It was the mental equivalent of a hug.

Jaster furrowed his brow and looked back and forth between Sy and Obi-Wan, while Jango raised his eyebrows at the exchange.

"Oh! Yes! That!" Obi-Wan bounced in place a little bit.

"What did I miss?" Jaster said.

"Empathetic projection of positive emotions," Sy explained. "Not all Jedi can do it, especially without a Force bond in place. Force sensitives will be able to feel the projected emotion. It is debatable whether Force nulls can or not, but it doesn't hurt either way."

As Obi-Wan screwed up his face in concentration, Yan interrupted him with a light touch to the shoulder.

"Pace yourself, youngling," Yan warned him. "You needn't try to do it constantly, that would be exhausting for you and distracting to them. Just be yourself and keep your love and concern for your _vod'e_ in the forefront of your emotions rather than your worry for them."

The last thing they all needed was for Obi-Wan to pass out after wearing himself to a thread trying to shove happiness down his Force bonds. No one would be pleased with that outcome. 

"Oh. Alright." Obi-Wan looked pensively at his plate, now mostly empty.

He had the air of great thought around him, as if he were contemplating an issue of vast importance. 

Curious.

Yan waited and watched to see if Obi-Wan would come out and say what he was thinking. The child didn't seem to have much of a filter about nearly anything yet. 

"Master Doo," Obi-Wan said hesitantly.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"C'n I have a _really big_ piece of cake?"

Sy covered his mouth with his hand and his eyes crinkled with smiling. Jaster and Jango outright laughed.

"Like, _really big_? Like this big?" Obi-Wan spread out his arms as wide as they could go. He looked up at Yan with wide, emploreing eyes. The effect was mitigated by how he was barely containing his giggles. 

"No," Yan said flatly.

That just caused Jaster and Jango to cackle harder and Sy's face started to turn a little red.

"Please?" Obi-Wan grinned up at him.

Yan sighed. This was why he didn't deal with crèchelings. "Ah, look at the time. It seems you're ready for your 'sabre practice. Master Sifo-Dyas? Your student awaits."

Sy was shaking with silent laughter. Jaster and Jango didn't even bother with the courtesy of being quiet.

"I'll bring you some rum," Jaster said, in between cackles of his own.

"Remind me again why we aren't drinking it?" Yan muttered. 

That just set them all off again.

\--


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is much discussion of cake and baking. Do not read if hungry.
> 
> Also, there are some feels ahead.

\--- POV switch: Young Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

“Focus on your footwork, Obi-Wan,” Master Sy said, not unkindly.

Obi-Wan nodded and adjusted his feet. 

He was distracted. So distracted. It was really, really hard to concentrate on hitting things with his training ‘sabre when all he wanted to do was run around and yell that he was going to get cake. 

Cake! Master Doo’s cake, too!

It was probably all kinds of fabulous. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know what Corellian Rum was. There was half a memory of it buried in with all the dreams and visions that said that he would like it eventually. Right now he wasn’t all that interested in trying more things that burned. 

Master Doo had said that the cake had caff in it too, which Obi-Wan was also extremely dubious about. Caff smelled like wet smouldering burnt things, which didn’t seem like it should make sense but it _did_ and that’s what it smelled like. 

But cake implied sugar, and Obi-Wan was very ready for the sugar. His _vod’e_ were bound to love it, too. He was very sure that they liked caff and was reasonably sure that they liked rum. So caff and rum _and_ sugar would probably be a win for them.

Master Sy let out a sigh and said, “Alright. Let’s play tag.”

“Hooray!” Obi-Wan cheered. Tag meant running and playing and both of those things sounded great. “Can I take off my bucket, Master Sy?”

It was unwieldy and Obi-Wan wanted to see clearly as he ran and dodged. Even though the lights and tracking and information that the display showed were pretty and kind of awesome. 

“Of course. You can set it next to our water bottles.”

Master Sy waited patiently as Obi-Wan set his helmet off to the side of the yard. His hair was all spikey and sticking everywhere after taking it off. Sticky with sweat, too. 

He was so busy trying to get all the little strands out of his face that he didn’t notice Ben and his _vod’e_ approaching.

“Hey, Cadet,” Cody said. 

“Cody!” Obi-Wan turned towards Cody’s voice and ran into him full tilt, tackling him in a hug. “You’re done! You’re here! Hooray!”

Obi-Wan rocked back and forth in the hug, tugging Cody along with him. Cody laughed and Obi-Wan could feel the network lighten around him.

All eight of them were in their full armor, but none of them had their buckets on yet. So Obi-Wan could see them all smiling at him, even Ben who was more reserved. Maybe one day Obi-Wan would be like that. Less likely to smile or be joyful. Some of it had to be all the training that Jedi did to keep control of themselves.

Secretly, Obi-Wan wondered if Ben’s lack of smiling was really more about all the sadness that clung to him instead. He wondered if he’d be like that, too, when he was older.

“Yeah, we’re here, Cadet,” Waxer said, ruffling Obi-Wan’s damp hair. Obi-Wan grinned up at him.

“So what are you so excited about?” Crys asked. 

“You’ve been worked up all afternoon,” Wooley added.

Obi-Wan lit up, his whole body tensing with the need to tell them about _cake_.

But he stopped himself, and cast a wary look at them all.

“Cadet?” Cody asked. Some of the happiness fell off of his face and turned right back to worry and upset.

“I… maybe sh’dn’t tell you,” Obi-Wan said. He narrowed his eyes as he furiously tried to calculate the pros and cons of keeping the cake a secret.

“Uh oh. I know that face,” Helix muttered. Ben raised an eyebrow at him in mild exasperation. 

If he kept the cake a secret, then the _vod’e_ would be that much more surprised and pleased when they found out about it.

“Nope. Not telling. It’s a secret.” Obi-Wan grinned at them. He attempted to make his expression earnestly happy, so that they would be convinced that it was a good secret.

“He looks like one of those baby sharks that lives along pylon reefs,” Longshot muttered.

“Right?” Boil muttered back.

Alright, so maybe he needed to work on his smile. 

The worry that had been leaking over across the network was quickly replaced with rueful interest and a spark of excitement. He counted it as a win.

“Good afternoon, younglings,” Master Sy said, walking over to them.

“Good afternoon, Master Sifo-Dyas,” Ben said with a nod of his head. “Where is Master Dooku? Usually he helps with drills.”

Master Sy smiled. He was much better at looking unassuming. “Master Dooku is occupied for the moment, though he will be joining us for latemeal, along with Jaster and Jango.”

“I see,” Ben said. Obi-Wan got the feeling that he wasn’t fooled. 

“In the meantime, we were about to play tag. Would you all like to join us?” Master Sy asked.

Ben and the _vod’e_ all exchanged a glance. There were shrugs and nods all around.

“Sure,” Cody said. “Although, you’re gonna have to let go, Cadet.” He smiled down at Obi-Wan.

“Nope. Staying here,” Obi-Wan said, clinging tighter.

Cody and the others were _so sad_ earlier. They all needed hugs. Obi-Wan wasn’t big enough to give them _all_ hugs all at once. He’d start with Cody.

Cody laughed. “It’ll be hard to play tag this way.”

“I have faith in you,” Obi-Wan said seriously, reciting something he half-remembered saying in another life.

Cody groaned. “Cadet, you are killing me,” he muttered while everyone else snickered. 

Eventually, Obi-Wan allowed himself to be pried off. 

They all ran around and it was a great time. Obi-Wan ran until he was panting so hard that he could barely breathe. He ran until he had to lay down on the ground for a minute or two. Helix came over and was really worried. Obi-Wan tried to wave him away, but just ended up tackling him instead when Helix wouldn’t be moved.

Helix clearly wasn’t expecting this countermove, because he hit the ground and rolled, sending them both tumbling around tickling each other. Obi-Wan laughed until his sides hurt and he had to lay down again.

Master Sy was right there with water, which Obi-Wan was really happy to have, and then Helix made him get up and walk around to cool down. At that point, Master Sy declared the afternoon exercise over and prodded Obi-Wan towards the yard exit.

“I’m so excited, I’m so excited,” Obi-Wan whispered to himself as they walked. He very softly clapped his hands together as they went, unable to keep still. That earned him some very amused and happy looks from everyone else, but Obi-Wan couldn’t be bothered to think about it.

He was going to get _cake_.

“You’re going to go wash up before we eat,” Master Sy told him.

“Yes, Master Sy.” Obi-Wan was not paying much attention to him at all. His focus was bent on getting to their rooms faster. The faster they got there, the sooner they’d have cake. 

“What even is going on?” Cody quietly asked Master Sy.

“From what I hear, it’s a surprise,” Master Sy said, sounding amused.

Cody made a small annoyed sound, but he felt interested over the network so Obi-Wan didn’t worry about it. 

When they opened the door to Master Doo’s suite, the smell that wafted out was _amazing_. Just amazing. If scent could have a visible presence, Obi-Wan was sure that this one would be a thick puffy cloud.

“Whaaat,” Crys said softly.

Obi-Wan made a beeline for the kitchen.

He was unfairly stopped short by Master Sy’s hand on the back of his collar. 

“Nope. We are going to get you washed up, and then you are going to sit down and eat all of your dinner.”

“But!” Obi-Wan struggled. The kitchen door was right there, and he could just _barely_ see some movement in there. Warmth radiated out from the doorway and for once the scent of caff didn’t instinctively make Obi-Wan want to bury his face in his robes. There was so much sugar in the air, and something else sweet and alluring. And bread! Obi-Wan knew the smell of fresh baked bread from his time in the palace kitchen, but this was somehow lighter and better than what he was used to.

Master Sy physically dragged him to the ‘fresher while the _vod’e_ laughed.

It was good that they were happy. Mission accomplished. 

Once they were in the ‘fresher, Obi-Wan went about his washing up more willingly. He could hear the higher voices of Ben and the _vod’e_ chatting out in the sitting room along with the occasional interjection from the deep rumble of Master Doo’s voice. It only spurred him on.

When they got out to the sitting room, Jaster and Jango were there, too. Both of them were setting up containers of food at the dining table, while everyone else milled around.

“So that’s the secret, huh?” Waxer asked Obi-Wan as he walked up. “Some kind of desert?”

Obi-Wan bounced over. “Master Doo is making cake,” he said in an excited almost-whisper. “It’s got to be a-maz-ing. Master Doo is good at everything.”

Master Sy snorted. “He is very skilled at many things,” he said dryly. “Though no one is good at _everything_.”

Obi-Wan leveled him with a look filled with all the skepticism that statement deserved. This only caused more laughter.

Master Doo poked his head out of the kitchen doorway. “This is not an opportunity to list off my many blunders. Have mercy, I implore you,” he said, sounding kind of grumpy. He raised an eyebrow at Master Sy in what was probably supposed to be a glare. It was spoiled by the upward twist of his lips.

“I would never,” Master Sy said solemnly, though Obi-Wan got the impression that he was secretly laughing.

Master Doo must have sensed the laughter, too, because he just raised his eyebrow even higher and went back to whatever he was doing in the kitchen.

No one waited on serving dinner, much to Obi-Wan’s relief. They all settled into the table. As the food was being passed around, Obi-Wan was struck by how very hungry he was. The scent of warm, savory foods blocked out the delightful aroma of cake.

Master Doo joined them soon enough. He didn’t bring anything with him. Obi-Wan pointedly looked at his empty hands as he sat down at the table, and then looked towards the kitchen.

The cake was still in there. Waiting.

Curiosity was killing him.

Master Doo barked out a short laugh at his expression. “After dinner, youngling.”

“Yes, Master Doo,” Obi-Wan said by rote. 

He applied himself to his meal while everyone chatted. The food was really good. There were hot roasted tubers and spiced rice with little bits of vegetables mixed in. He avoided the Dark Side Meat. Apparently, there were several types of Dark Side Meat. All of them were a thick stew with meat of mysterious origin that sort of fell apart in the sauce. All of them burned his nose without even tasting them.

Waxer put some other saucy meat onto Obi-Wan’s plate. This one was more yellow than red and it didn’t smell _that_ hot.

Obi-Wan frowned at his plate, and then looked up at Waxer, betrayed. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Waxer said with a laugh. “This one isn’t so hot. It’s made with nut oil and milk. It’ll be creamy, not spicy.”

Creamy didn’t sound bad. Obi-Wan poked at it with his fork. 

“Try just a little of the sauce on your tongue and then decide if it’s worth it,” Ben advised. 

Ben was pretty smart. Obi-Wan gave it a try, dipping just the very end of his fork into the sauce and then very hesitantly licking it. 

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “It is creamy.”

Waxer looked smug.

Slowly, Obi-Wan tried a little more. It made his mouth warm, but not too bad. 

Pretty soon it was all gone. “That was good,” Obi-Wan said. He was still a little shocked by that fact. “Can we learn how to make it, Master Sy?”

“We’ll have to ask the cooks to teach us,” Master Sy said warmly.

“It’s a common recipe, and not too hard,” Jaster said. “The spices might be hard to find on Coruscant, though.”

“We’ll send you both home with some,” Master Doo said.

Master Sy smiled at him and the Force sang for a moment. 

That was when Obi-Wan realized it. His plate was empty. He ate all the foods. That meant it was _cake time_.

“I finished, I finished! Can I have cake now, please?” Obi-Wan look at both of the masters with an abundance of hope.

“Excellent job eating your dinner, and yes you may have some cake,” Master Sy said. Before Obi-Wan could jump out of his chair to go run and get some, Master Sy added, “Stay. We’ll bring you some.”

There was some hustle and bustle as the table got cleaned up. Then Master Doo brought out two pans, one large and one small, and Master Sy brought out little plates and forks.

Obi-Wan had expected something tall. Like bread. But this cake looked like it was layered into the glass pans. The bottom was brown, there was white stuff on top of it, and then more brown stuff was sprinkled on top.

“Any rum left?” Jaster asked with a small smile.

“Some,” Master Doo answered, similarly amused. “For those of age to drink it.” He looked around the table.

The _vod’e_ glared at him and Ben laughed.

“Just cake for me,” Jango said. 

“I’ll have a couple fingers of the rum,” Jaster added. 

Master Sy went back to the kitchen and there was the sound of tinkling glass, while Master Doo cut pieces out of the cake. Obi-Wan got a square of the cake in the small dish, while everyone else got a square from the large dish.

“Force, it smells so good,” Waxer said, looking like he was about two seconds away from drooling. 

“Right,” Boil agreed.

“Why does Obi-Wan get a different cake?” Helix asked as he eyed the two pans.

“Because yours is made with concentrated caff and Corellian Rum,” Master Doo responded.

That earned him groans of appreciation.

Obi-Wan didn’t care. He wasn’t listening. He was too busy putting cake in his mouth.

The first thing Obi-Wan noticed wasn’t the flavor, it was how _light_ the cake was. The white stuff was some kind of sweet whipped cream, or maybe a cheese, and it was so fluffy and airy that it was practically a foam. The stuff sprinkled on top was bitter chocolate powder, and the brown stuff on the bottom was some kind of sweet bread soaked in liquid. 

The whole bite was bitter and sweet at the same time. Light and airy, but wet and bready and dense. It wasn’t like anything that Obi-Wan had ever had before. He’d expected something sugary. This was _complicated_. That somehow made it way better than any sugary dish that Obi-Wan had ever had.

“Oh, kriff,” Boil moaned. Waxer just moaned along with him.

At some point, Master Sy had rejoined them. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure when. It didn’t matter. The network was floating with how blissed out everyone was over the cake. The only reason Obi-Wan noticed Master Sy at all was because he was snickering quietly to himself.

“Damn, Master Dooku,” Jaster said. “That’s…”

“Really, really good,” Jango finished for him.

Jaster nodded. Master Doo radiated smug satisfaction in the Force. 

“Oh Force,” Longshot groaned. “I love you. Will you marry me?”

“Are you asking me, or the cake?” Master Doo asked, sounding extremely amused.

Crys started to laugh, but the laugh tapered off into a soft whimper of pleasure as he shoved another forkful into his mouth. Ben outright cackled.

“Either. Both,” Longshot said around a mouthful. 

Barely a couple minutes had passed, and all the _vod’e_ were scraping their plates clean. Obi-Wan was just licking his. For once, Master Sy didn’t tell him not to.

His stomach felt like it was going to explode from all the cake right after dinner. He still eyed the pan.

Right before he was about to attempt a calculated grab for the cake, Master Sy shook his head and said, “No. One piece is enough.”

“Master Sy,” Obi-Wan complained as he slumped back into his chair. 

Maybe more cake was a bad plan. It was sort of hard to move. He was full and warm, and now that the excitement of cake was done, Obi-Wan was starting to feel pretty tired. 

“We’ll save the rest for you for later,” Master Sy assured him. That made Obi-Wan feel significantly less grumpy.

“This is unreal,” Crys muttered in between bites. No one stopped the _vod’e_ from getting extra slices. Obi-Wan pouted a little. Only a little. He was so full. 

The network rang with pleasure and satisfaction. Obi-Wan wasn’t the only one sprawling back in his chair. 

“It’s so light, but I feel so full,” Wooley crooned happily, in between licking his fork over and over again.

“It’s the calories. So many calories,” Helix said. His normal dry humor was tempered by his own obvious satisfaction.

The adults were all laughing quietly and smiling. That was good. 

“This was a great idea,” Obi-Wan said. “Good job, Master Sy, Master Doo.” He beamed a smile at them.

“Called it,” Boil muttered. What he was talking about, Obi-Wan had no idea.

Crys tried to nail Boil with a pointed elbow, but the effort was half-hearted at best. 

“I think this is the best cake I have ever had,” Cody said seriously.

Wooley snorted. “Not much competition there, _vod_.”

Cody tilted his head in acknowledgement, and Ben felt a little sad though his expression stayed neutral and he focused on his own cake. 

“Cody’s right, this is great. Thank you,” Jaster said, giving Master Doo a warm smile. The thanks was echoed by everyone else, and Master Doo had the best version of his secret smile on.

Ben nodded. “It’s very good. It pairs well with tea, too.”

“Good with a strong, bitter caff, too. Or rum,” Master Doo said. He raised his rum glass. He hadn’t been doing more than occasionally sipping at it, so there was a fair bit of the amber liquid left in the tumbler. 

“Where’d you learn to make this?” Jango asked. He’d gotten a second slice, too. At this rate there wouldn’t be much left even though it was a big pan. Obi-Wan decided that he would share his pan of cake if the other one ran out. It was more fun to eat sweets if everyone had some.

“Ahhh, that’s a fun story,” Master Sy said, settling into his chair. He ran a finger around the rim of his rum glass.

“You tell it much better than I do, my dear High Councilor. Why don’t you go ahead,” Master Doo said. There was a strange quality to his smile now, like he was laughing at a joke that no one else understood.

Master Sy smiled back at him, and now Obi-Wan was sure that there was some kind of hidden joke.

“When Master Dooku was a young knight stationed as a Watchman on the Outer Rim, he rescued a small village from raiders. They wanted to pay him for his service, but he refused. We don’t do our duty for credits. Their honor demanded some kind of repayment. So Master Dooku suggested that they teach him a local recipe.” Master Sy gestured at the cake in front of them.

The rest of the table all eyed Master Doo with skepticism. 

“Really?” Helix asked. His dubious expression was mitigated by how he was slowly sinking into his chair.

“You doubt the veracity of the story?” Master Doo said with faux-disdain. “For shame. I learned many skills as a Watchman and, while I am no great chef, I have picked up recipes from many worlds.”

Cody squinted his eyes at him and Master Sy. “I’m not hearing a straight ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

Master Doo smirked and Master Sy grinned. Jaster snorted and sipped his rum. 

“Story-schmory.” Crys waved a hand at them. “Will you teach us how to make this?”

He and all of the _vod’e_ looked at Master Doo with wide, entreating eyes. 

“No,” Master Doo said simply.

“But--” Crys made a sad face.

“--Why?” Longshot jumped in.

“It’s a secret,” Master Doo said. His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Boil, Crys, and Longshot drew in their breath like they were going to hiss, as if the very idea offended them. Wooley just looked mournfully at the mostly empty cake pan in the middle of the table. 

“Brutal, Grandmaster,” Ben said, stifling a snicker. 

Master Doo’s smirk just grew a little larger. 

“I’ll make it for you all again at some point. It takes a fair amount of preparation, so this type of event won’t repeat with frequency,” Master Doo warned them.

“Next time I visit, please?” Obi-Wan said. His eyes were getting heavy and the couch in the sitting room was looking more and more appealing.

“I would be delighted, Obi-Wan.” Master Doo nodded at him like Obi-Wan was a Jedi Master himself, which made Obi-Wan giggle. 

The giggle tapered off quickly and Obi-Wan sunk a little farther down. 

“I think it’s time for me to take the little one off to bed,” Master Sy said. 

Obi-Wan had just enough motivation to let out a feeble wordless protest. Bed did sound pretty nice. 

That was when Obi-Wan remembered something. He bolted upright. The move gathered everyone’s attention.

“Master Sy, I just rem’mbered,” Obi-Wan said. “C’n we watch the holo recording now?”

Master Sy raised his eyebrows at him. “Of what?”

“The Council session! When I talked to them?” Obi-Wan was too full to bounce. He fidgeted instead. “You said I cou’d ask to see it and you’d have t’ play it for me.”

Master Sy barked out a short laugh, while Jaster cackled.

“Alright, so I did. I’ll go get the recording.” Master Sy stood up and headed back to his room, while Jaster, Jango, and Ben slowly moved to start putting dishes in the kitchen. Waxer and Boil both looked like they were debating about helping.

A couple of minutes later, Master Sy was back with a holovid chip in hand. He waved everyone into the sitting room. There, he set his comm on a small end table where the holovid could project so everyone could see it. 

Everyone got settled with their drinks and the remains of the cake. Obi-Wan made himself at home squished in between Waxer and Cody on the couch. He’d _wanted_ to sit on Waxer’s lap, but Waxer had instantly put a stop to that. Obi-Wan was so pleasantly full that he barely put up a protest. He _did_ strip off his armor so that he could cuddle better. Master Sy would help him put it away later, he was sure.

“I must remind you all that private Council meetings like this are not regularly shown to the public,” Master Sy said. “So if any of you feels the need to discuss any of this with anyone outside this room, please don’t. If only to save me future trouble.”

Jaster shrugged. “Alright.” 

Jango nodded along.

“This should be something,” Ben muttered. There was a rueful twist to his lips, and he leaned into Cody’s other side. Helix flanked him, and Crys, Wooley, Boil, and Longshot all sat on the floor in front of the couch, leaning back onto it. The adults perched on the other seats around the room.

“I’ve taken the liberty of fast forwarding to the relevant portions of the meeting,” Master Sy said with a hint of amusement.

“We appreciate it,” Cody replied. The network rang with the sincerity of that remark. 

Master Sy hit a button and the holo recording started. 

Little holographic projections of all the High Councilors popped up in a circle, a miniature recreation of the Council room back at the Temple. Master Sy adjusted his comm, shifting it to the floor and moving it a few feet in front of him so that everyone could get a good view. 

Obi-Wan saw a tiny holo version of himself walk into the Council room, with Blocky in hand. 

“You took your plushy, Cadet?” Boil asked.

“He makes me feel better,” Obi-Wan said. “But I don’ need him as much now, b’cause I can hug you all.”

Waxer and Cody both squeezed him and the network hummed with happiness.

“I still have Blocky, you know. Or had. Back at the Temple,” Ben said wistfully. 

“He’s a good loth-cat,” Obi-Wan said seriously.

“Yes,” Ben agreed. 

Somehow, that feeling of excitement and pleasure in the network only increased. This time it was focused on Ben. 

“Is that Master Fisto?” Jaster asked, pointing towards the holo. They’d just seen Master Kit give the holo Obi-Wan a big wink and a smile.

“Yes,” Master Sy said. 

_“Initiate Kenobi,”_ the holo Master Yoda said. _“Stand here before us, you do, because you have a request.”_

 _“Yes, Masters,”_ holo Obi-Wan said with a deep bow. _“I would very much like t’ go visit my vod’e, please.”_

 _“Vod’e. That means ‘brothers’?”_ the extra hairy Councilor holo asked. Obi-Wan still didn’t know his name.

 _“Means siblings, Masters, and it’s a special word for my vod’e.”_ Holo Obi-Wan frowned and shook his head. _“I donno how to tell you. It’s a big word.”_

 _“A word you don’t know?”_ holo Master Mace asked.

Holo Obi-Wan shook his head again. _“It's just big. It means a lot of things.”_

“Too right, Cadet,” Cody said softly. The adults gave him a weird look, but they all quickly went back to paying attention to the recording. 

The holo of the big, tall master with the red skin and the huge curling rack of horns said, _“You know that Initiates are not allowed to see their birth families. It invites attachment, which is very dangerous. Attachment leads to the Dark Side.”_

From there, holo Obi-Wan slowly and carefully worked the Council around to agreeing to let him talk and ask questions and speak without getting argued over. 

Looking at it now, Obi-Wan was actually a little proud of himself. 

“Nicely done, Cadet,” Wooley said quietly.

Ben just looked more and more amused.

Once that was done and the little holo Obi-Wan paused to think, the _vod’e_ all started snickering.

“Here it comes,” Helix said, sounding both fond and exasperated. 

“Right?” Boil answered. 

“What?” Obi-Wan asked. He frowned a little. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong.

“It’s nothing, Obi-Wan,” Ben reassured him. “The _vod’e_ are just used to seeing me creatively problem solve in conversation.”

Cody snorted. “Is that what you call it?”

“Hush, we’re missing it,” Longshot said. He tried to elbow someone, maybe Cody, but managed to only hit the couch frame. “Ow,” he muttered absently.

The little holo Council was stepping through the meaning of attachment with holo Obi-Wan. 

_“Fear of that pain, fear of loss, can lead to possessiveness and anger, anger to hate, and hate to suffering,”_ holo Master Yoda said. 

_“And you are worried that me seeing my _vod’e_ will mean I will get attached, ‘nd then maybe be Dark?”_ holo Obi-Wan asked. 

_“Yes, exactly,”_ holo Master Gallia answered.

 _“Ahhh,”_ holo Obi-Wan said, relieved. _“Then you don’t need t’ worry. I’ve been dreaming of my vod’e for weeks. All the stuff we’ll do t’gether. All the stuff we **might** do. Sometimes…”_

Holo Obi-Wan hugged his loth-cat tight and took a breath. That made Obi-Wan cuddle closer to Cody. He knew what was coming. It wasn’t something he liked to think about a lot. 

The network must have picked up his mild discomfort, because they gave him quick, worried looks and Cody wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

_“Sometimes I see them all die. Sometimes I see me die. None of us ever let that stop us from saving the people who we protect. And if it **did** , if I ever **let** myself do bad things or forget that ‘m a Jedi ‘nd that I should follow the Force, then they wouldn’t **want** me.”_

Waxer made a soft, wounded sound, and Cody about squeezed the life out of Obi-Wan.

“Cadet, no,” Cody said, his voice pained. 

Master Sy paused the recording. He and Master Doo were watching with concern that Obi-Wan could feel in the Force. Jaster and Jango just looked upset. 

Ben, on the other hand, faded away in the network until his presence was barely a whisper. He sat calmly and watched Obi-Wan in a way that looked extremely peaceful but felt a little brittle and tired to Obi-Wan.

“We’d help you,” Helix said firmly, squeezing Obi-Wan’s knee. “If you were having troubles, we’d help you.”

“Of course you would, b’cause you’re my _vod’e_ , and you’re the best. But anyone else, th'd make me leave,” Obi-Wan said, feeling puzzled. “‘Nd if I was really bad, you all should prob’ly make me leave, too, b’cause I would hurt you.”

Everyone knew that. It was just fact. 

“ _No_ ,” Cody snarled. He and Waxer were holding Obi-Wan tight, as if they thought he was going to run away. Which was silly, Obi-Wan wouldn’t ever want to leave them.

Though… he’d had enough dreams and visions to know that sometimes the thing that needed doing wasn’t the thing that he _wanted_ to do. So maybe Cody and Helix had a point. 

“ _Nu draar_ , Cadet,” Cody said, sounding more composed this time. “No chance. We will always try to help.”

There was an awkward, hurt pause as everyone stared. Obi-Wan huddled a little closer to Cody. He didn’t understand why everyone was so upset. 

“The Jedi would help, too, young one,” Master Sy said. “We wouldn’t leave you to flounder.”

Before Obi-Wan could say anything, Ben shifted his tea cup on its saucer. Somehow that little scrape of a sound was enough to draw everyone’s attention.

He sat upright and proper, and his presence in the Force was so heavily shielded that Obi-Wan could just barely tell that Ben was a living being. Not a hint of his emotions leaked through the network, only the lightest ghost of a pressure that said he was still there. Somehow, this just made the network tremble with distress even more.

“Really, Master Sifo-Dyas,” Ben said in a lightly chiding drawl. “You should be more honest with the youngling. He won’t be able to appropriately gauge his actions if he doesn’t know the consequences of failure.”

“What,” Jaster growled out.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Ben,” Master Sy said. His face was drawn and he felt like growing horror and confusion in the Force.

Ben raised an eyebrow at him. “It is objectively true that if any Jedi transgresses enough, the punishments are verbal censure, increased duties, confinement, and isolation. That's if the offending party is lucky enough to be allowed to stay in the Order. Otherwise the punishments include being stripped of their 'sabre and cast out of the Order, wherever they happen to be, assuming that they don't prove themselves a threat, and then the Jedi have jurisdiction to execute them.”

“ _What._ ” Jaster turned to glare at Master Sy and Master Doo.

Both of the Masters look at Ben like he’d tried to stab them.

“No,” Master Doo said, stiff with denial and bewilderment. “No, that’s not. Obi-Wan is an _initiate_ , the Council would never --”

“But they did,” Ben replied, oozing ease and charm. He looked at them with something almost like pity, like he was an indulgent old master. “My dear Master Dooku, I have had every one of those punishments leveled on me, barring the last, and that was threatened.”

Master Sy looked like he was going to be sick, and the _vod’e_ felt murderous. 

Obi-Wan whimpered and curled up into a ball.

Then shields snapped over him, Ben’s shields, blocking out the vast majority of the anger in the network.

The relief of it was so profound that it was a physical sensation, and Obi-Wan sagged backwards. Not that he could move much. Waxer and Cody had moved so closely together that Obi-Wan was sitting on their laps.

“I don’t understand, why are you so angry?” Obi-Wan asked plaintively.

“Because that is _not right_ ,” Cody hissed. 

“It is appropriate,” Ben said, a touch sharply. “I did dangerous and foolish things, and deserved to be corrected.”

“Ben…” Jango had put a hand on Jaster’s arm, holding him in place.

Ben sighed. “Master Dooku, you should be familiar enough with Master Qui-Gon’s own misadventures to have seen some of this in action. Disobedience from the Council’s orders and deviation from the Code invites censure. A verbal dressing down at minimum, followed by confinement to the Temple and increased service duties, as well as assigned meditation. If the miscreant in question is considered unstable or the offence egregious enough, then they are cut off from social activities as penance. If the person shows that they cannot abide by the Jedi Code and are not worthy or suitable of their knighthood, it is stripped from them and, if possible, their ‘sabres are taken.”

“Those measures are done to guide, to correct, not to _punish_ ,” Master Dooku objected. “Meditation, a leave from off-world missions... and none of the serious measures are used to correct initiates…”

“And _execution_?” Master Sy jumped in. “That… that cannot be right.”

“What else do we do to those who Fall to the Dark?” Ben asked. Of everyone in the room, he alone looked unruffled, though there was a weight to his gaze. A weariness. “The Jedi have legal jurisdiction to apprehend, confine, or terminate anyone using Dark Force powers. To be fair, those who follow the Dark side of the Force are generally trying to kill us, so killing them first is almost always the best plan.”

“You were threatened with this?” Master Sy said quietly. He’d leaned forward in his chair, like he wanted to reach out but didn’t quite dare to.

A flash of a dream hit Obi-Wan. Something half-remembered from when he was older, or from when Ben was younger. A Jedi master telling him that he would never be a jedi knight, that choosing him as a padawan would just be setting him up to Fall, and then there would just be one more Darksider to hunt down.

“We’re too angry,” Obi-Wan said miserably.

“Yes,” Ben agreed sadly. “I’m afraid I wasn’t a very good padawan.”

“That’s _osik_!” Crys said. “That’s just. No. You’re the best Jedi in the GAR. You put up with things no one else can --”

“Easy, _vod_ ,” Longshot muttered to him, pulling him close. 

By now the _vod’e_ had collectively huddled up closer, pressing Obi-Wan into the middle of a ball of bodies. They’d pressed close to Ben, too, but Ben held himself perfectly upright, not leaning into them at all.

“It’s fine, _vod’e_. I learned from my mistakes, and I became a better Jedi,” Ben said. He paused to sip his tea. “No one on the Council ever held my past transgressions against me, especially not after I reached master status, and I grew to become a Jedi of good standing and reputation.”

“There is no version of the galaxy where any of this is _fine_ ,” Cody said.

Ben just gave him a tired look. 

“A Jedi Master should help someone who is struggling with the Dark,” Master Sy said firmly. “Master Windu is an excellent example. His padawanship and early knighthood were tumultuous. He overcame this and developed Vaapad, a form that specifically uses what he learned about maintaining balance between Light and Dark. That form is a brilliant achievement, and only accomplished because Master Windu was able to work through his struggles.”

“To be fair to the Jedi in my past, a galaxy wide war and the return of the Sith somewhat expedited the deliberation process on what to do about Dark siders,” Ben said dryly.

“But to use execution as a threat?” Master Doo said with a sneer that managed to look both confused and disdainful at once. 

“Less a threat and more a promise.” Ben shrugged.

“Did that happen during the war, too?” Master Doo looked angry now, and that was significantly scarier than anything else Obi-Wan could think of right then.

Ben took a sip of his tea and watched the water swirl in his cup. “No,” he said quietly.

Jaster stood up and walked away to go pace in the corner. 

“It won’t happen this time. None of it will happen to Obi-Wan,” Master Sy promised grimly.

“That’s a kind thought, Master Sifo-Dyas, and it is appreciated, but please don’t promise what you can’t guarantee.” The weight of the conversation seemed to drag at Ben’s shoulders. As one, the _vod’e_ shifted closer to him again with Cody and Waxer dragging Obi-Wan right along with them. Ben didn’t object. He didn’t relax at all, either.

“I won’t let it happen,” Master Sy said. 

“You will not always be a High Councilor,” Ben pointed out.

Master Sy winced. Ben looked apologetic, but he didn’t take back what he’d said. 

“True enough,” Master Sy rallied. “But I am not without resources and Obi-Wan is not without friends. I am far from the only Master to watch over him at the Temple.”

That seemed to mollify Ben somewhat. He tilted his head in acknowledgement and quirked his lips into a parody of a smile.

“Kriff the High Council,” Jaster said, coming back to sit down. “I’ll make sure none of that _osik_ happens. I’ll bring the _ori’ramikad'e_ and we’ll come get him.”

“You’ll have to wait in line, _buir_.” Cody’s voice had gone cold and sharp.

Master Dooku snorted. “If things become anywhere close to being that dire, Master Sifo-Dyas will have him smuggled out to you all before the Temple gossip has reached the crèches.”

Master Sy nodded.

Obi-Wan relaxed further into his _vod’e_. It was comforting to know that everyone here would help him, no matter what. He could tell that Ben was touched by their words, too. The two of them shared a look. Understanding passed between them. They’d still take _themselves_ out of the situation if they ever felt that they’d become a danger to the people closest to them, but they were relieved to hear that people _cared_.

From the faint grumpy rumblings that Obi-Wan could feel in the network beyond Ben’s shields, he knew that his _vod’e_ had seen that look and weren’t happy about it.

He projected calm and warmth at them.

“Everything is alright, _vod’e_ ,” he said.

“It’s _not_ ,” Helix muttered back. 

“But there’s nothing we can do about it now,” Boil added glumly.

Master Sy and Master Doo exchanged a look, and Obi-Wan got the feeling that _plans_ were involved. 

“Don’t be sad,” Obi-Wan said. “Please?”

That just got him another squeeze. Some of the tension left the room, but the feel in the Force was still unhappy. Ben sipped his tea.

Jango shook his head. “Play some more of your holo vid. We might as well.”

Master Sy glanced around the room, and then pressed play again.

 _“Obi-Wan,”_ holo Master Sy said softly. _“They would want to help you. When you make mistakes, the people who love you help you.”_

Jaster shot Master Sy a slightly mollified look and the burning anger around him in the Force lessened a bit.

 _“Which is the other reason you should let me go,”_ holo Obi-Wan said with a little nod. _“Things ‘re gonna get bad. Stuffs gonna get dark. It’s the people we love that are gonna get us through.”_ He tilted his head and looked around at the holo council. _“Creche Master Tinna says that it’s ok t’ care about other people. That Jedi should be com-pass-on-ate. That means caring what happens to people. Why would you want me t’ not care for my vod’e?”_

Jango snorted. Waxer squeezed Obi-Wan and buried his nose in Obi-Wan’s hair.

 _“It’s not that simple,”_ The master who said that was the one who kind of looked like Master Yoda. He was short and had long pointed ears, but his skin was pale white and there was a scar over one eye.

 _“Crèche Master Tinna cares about me. Is it wrong of her?”_ holo Obi-Wan asked.

The little master gave holo Obi-Wan an impatient look. _“That’s different. She is a full grown adult and knows where her duty lies. You are a child. You do not yet have the experience to make choices between love and duty.”_

Looking at the conversation from the outside, Obi-Wan was able to catch nuances in expression and wording that he hadn’t noticed when he was there in person. It was really interesting.

The look that holo Obi-Wan leveled on the master questioning him was extremely unimpressed and disappointed. Obi-Wan agreed.

_“Seems t’ me that you should be teaching me how t’ choose right, instead of how not to care.”_

Ben covered his face with one hand, while Jaster and half the _vod’e_ barked out short laughs. Master Sy had a wry look on his face and Master Doo smirked.

“Well said, Obi-Wan.” Master Doo’s voice was warm with approval. 

“Agreed,” Cody said with a nod.

Obi-Wan preened a little. 

Helix and Jango seemed amused but kept their eyes carefully on the reactions of the Council.

Most of the little holo Councilors just looked surprised, but holo Master Kit was outright smothering a snicker. 

“The Nautolan seems on the level,” Jango muttered. No one added anything to that, but the buzz in the network told Obi-Wan that the _vod’e_ had heard it and agreed.

“He’s gon’ be a great friend for Master Sy,” Obi-Wan said firmly.

“Oh really?” Jaster asked.

“Shhhh, there’s more.” Crys waved a hand at them. 

While they were talking, the little holo Obi-Wan had said something, and holo Master Plo had answered with a reassuring statement and a laugh.

“He seems good, too,” Jaster said quietly.

“He’s General _Buir_ ,” Longshot said. Jaster gave him a raised eyebrow, but to the _vod’e_ , that statement explained everything.

_“That is true. As it is also true that young children need strong, positive attachments to grow up emotionally stable,”_ holo Master Zir said. 

“Who’s the Zabrak?” Jango asked.

“Master Zir,” Master Sy said. “He is in charge of all the crèches, and all crèche masters answer to him.”

That sparked even more interest.

 _“Come now, you all know this.”_ holo Master Zir said as he rolled his eyes and waved his hand at them. _“And if you don’t, you need to take more shifts helping in the crèches. Young children need people around them who care for them and make sure that they feel protected and safe. The **same** people. Stability and routine are important. Anything less severely damages their mental health and self esteem. **Adults** can safely choose to put a higher duty above themselves and their own wants, but small children need love and care to be confident enough to grow into people who can judge those situations wisely and make well reasoned choices. Sequestering children in the Temple is as much about steeping them in Jedi culture and giving them a standardized education as it is proper interaction with the Force and guarding them from attachment.”_

Ben’s mouth opened in shock, and Jaster gestured at the holo projection with both hands as if to say, _see?_

 _“The Jedi Order becomes our family, in a way,”_ holo Master Kit mused.

“Him. I like him,” Jaster said, pointing.

Cody just looked at Ben pointedly.

Holo Master Kit kept on going. _“Crèche mates turn into lifelong friends, and lineages become an extended network of siblings and mentors.”_

“As it should be,” Master Doo rumbled.

 _“Different, it is,”_ holo Master Yoda said firmly. _“Trained to let go, Jedi initiates are. Lineages are. Support is given, not attachment. Leave the crèches, all initiates do. Leave their masters, knights do as well. Nothing put above the Code, is. Not the same, for other families. **Important** , this is. Risk Falling to the Dark, we cannot. Once a Jedi touches the Dark, forever does it dominate their path.”_

Master Doo didn’t sigh, but he looked like he wanted to. 

“He’s not wrong,” Master Sy said. “Our duty to the Force comes first before any personal relationship.”

“He takes it to an extreme,” Master Doo grumbled. “That doesn’t mean --” He cut himself off with a slight grimace.

The two masters shared a glance heavy with meaning. 

There was the sensation of unspoken things floating through the network, too, but Ben’s shields kept Obi-Wan from getting a good feel of it.

 _“So the real problem becomes, do we want Initiate Obi-Wan to learn values contrary to what he would learn here in the Temple?”_ holo Master Mace asked.

 _“We have never sheltered Initiates from their culture,”_ holo Master Sy said firmly. _“And a short, heavily supervised visit is hardly enough to corrupt him. Nor have we denied other Initiates the chance to learn about their own cultures with such trips.”_

 _“Master Sy will be there with me. And Master Doo. They can help me figure out the attachment stuff, and tell me what a good Jedi should do. Please?”_ holo Obi-Wan pleaded with them.

There was silence as the holo councilors considered this.

Most of the anger and upset in the room had fled. Jaster still felt a bit irritated. Jango felt calculating, and Obi-Wan got the sense that he was planning something.

The _vod’e_ still hadn’t released their tight hold on Obi-Wan even though a great deal of their alarm and hurt had waned. Ben was still shielded tight as a drum, but his body language was more relaxed. His brow was furrowed in puzzlement.

 _“What else?”_ holo Obi-Wan asked.

 _“Pardon?”_ holo Master Kit said.

 _“Something else is wrong. You all look… **thinky**. So what else?”_

Cody snorted. “You need to work on your delivery, Cadet.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan said with a sigh. That just caused more snickering.

 _“Impertinent, you are,”_ holo Master Yoda hummed.

“He’ll have time to learn,” Master Doo said. The _I will make sure of it_ was implied.

 _“I’m sorry, Master Yoda. I didn’t mean to be mean. I jus’ want to understand. If I know what’s wrong, then we can talk ‘nd figure out a way to fix it,”_ holo Obi-Wan said contritely.

“Clever, clever,” Jaster murmured with a smirk. 

“You sure we can’t keep him?” Jango asked Jaster. That measuring, planning feel in the Force was quieter but still there.

Holo Master Yoda gave holo Obi-Wan a thoughtful look, and then nodded. 

_“There is a matter of safety,”_ holo Master Mace said. _“Mandalore is on the Outer Rim, there is no Jedi Temple there, and they’ve just gotten out of a very nasty fight.”_

“Oi, we _won_ that fight!” Crys snapped at the holo, and then promptly got shushed by the other _vod’e_.

Holo Obi-Wan nodded. _“Yeah, I saw.”_

That made everyone in the room wince, except Ben who just looked a little more tired.

 _“I’ll be fine once I get there,”_ holo Obi-Wan said. _“My vod’e are really, **really** a-mazing, and they’ll keep me safe.”_

The _vod’e_ felt smug.

 _“That is very accurate,”_ holo Master Plo said. _“It would probably take an army to tear Initiate Obi-Wan away from Ben and his vod’e.”_

“Damn straight,” Cody muttered.

Holo Master Mace nodded. _“Agreed. They are young, but terrifyingly skilled.”_

Jaster hummed in a satisfied and pleased way and leaned back into his seat. A little more tension left the room.

 _“I am not convinced that the trip there and back would be safe for such a young child,”_ holo Master Zir said.

“Betrayed,” Boil hissed with a low gasp. 

“They came from behind,” Waxer muttered, as if telling the tagline of a private joke. Boil snickered.

 _“The Mandalore Sector is right off the Hydian Way Hyperlane and the Salin Corridor,”_ holo Master Sy said. _“They are well traveled routes with very few risks, especially so close to the Mid Rim, and he will hardly be traveling alone. I may not be the duelist that Master Windu is, but I am hardly inept.”_

Now that Obi-Wan had seen Master Sy get into a real spar with Master Doo, he was even more upset than he had been at the time to hear the implication that Master Sy wouldn’t be able to protect him. 

Master Doo let out a low noise that was almost a growl, which caused Master Sy to give him a chiding look. Master Doo just glowered.

Holo Master Zir sneered. _“What of your visions? You were just laid up for days because of one. What happens if you are incapacitated while in Hyperspace?”_

Master Sy looked serene but felt kind of sad and tired. This just made Master Doo glower more. The network hummed with conflicting emotions.

The little holo Master Sy looked a little scary, but he answered evenly. _“Even at my worst, my visions only last a short amount of time. Initiate Obi-Wan is smart enough not to stray from me for the half hour or so that I would be unable to respond. After that, I carry with me a variety of medications that can put me back on my feet if need be. They are hard on the body, so I do not use them while I am in the safety of the Temple. If I were traveling, I would use them immediately, and request aid from either Mandalore or the Temple here, whichever was closer. There would be very little time where he was unattended.”_

“A reasonable plan,” Jaster muttered, casting an apologetic look at Master Sy and Master Doo.

 _“That seems like a reasonable precaution,”_ holo Master Mace said. Jaster just gestured at the holo.

 _“Master Sifo-Dyas is an established and skilled Jedi,”_ holo Master Gallia said. _“He and Initiate Obi-Wan already have a rapport. Letting the two of them sit in hyperspace for a few days doesn’t seem like that dangerous a prospect, visions or not.”_

Ben smiled at the holo. “Ahh, Adi.” His voice was fond and sad. 

There was a long moment of silence as the holo council all stared at each other.

“Are they thinking at each other?” Crys asked.

“Yes, a bit,” Master Sy answered. “None with me, obviously, but I know that other Council members indulge in telepathy in Council sessions.”

Master Doo continued to look grumpy. It was catching, because the _vod’e_ made unhappy noises, too. 

When the silence went on too long, holo Obi-Wan said, _“Masters, I think the Force is telling me t’ meet my vod’e. It’s **important**.”_

“Nothing like the old stand by,” Ben said with a smirk.

“The Force made me do it,” Master Sy said with an answering wry smile. Master Doo snorted and looked amused.

“I just wish it would work more often,” Ben said with a sad huff.

“It only works when it’s not critical,” Master Sy muttered.

“Right? Every time it’s inconvenient to those in charge, it’s disregarded,” Master Doo agreed snidely. “We follow the Force, even if it’s difficult.”

The older Jedi all looked tired and put upon, while the rest of them just stared at them incredulously.

“Wait, stop the recording,” Helix said. Crys crawled forward to make it happen. “That’s an _excuse_? Like an actual excuse and not the truth?”

Ben huffed softly. “It’s the truth. Most of the time,” he admitted sheepishly. “I have… occasionally used that saying under difficult circumstances, generally involving local planetary authority figures. It just so happens that the vast majority of the things the Force is prodding me to do are things I would have done anyways. Sometimes it’s useful to remind the Council that more than just personal morals guides our actions. Not that it helps half the time.”

Master Sy’s expression twisted in bitter disgust. He opened his mouth like he was going to speak and then stopped, visibly biting back whatever he was about to say. 

“The future is always in motion,” Master Doo said acidically. 

“They don’t listen to you much, do they?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling both sad and confused. Master Sy was great. Why wouldn’t the Council listen to him?

Master Sy’s expression smoothed into something more controlled. “Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. That’s the nature of a ruling body that is composed of a group of people instead of one person. A group will make better decisions than any one person alone.”

Something about that answer seemed slippery to Obi-Wan, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.

It must have shown in his expression, because Master Sy smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Obi-Wan. They listen to me when it matters, and in the rare circumstances where action is needed to save lives and the Council isn’t willing to move, I have long since figured out how to take matters into my own hands.”

Ben and the _vod’e_ had gone quiet, and the network hummed with something like worry mixed with anticipation or dread.

“That’s good, right?” Obi-Wan was still confused. The emotions in the room were weird. They didn’t quite match up with the words and he felt like things were being said that he didn’t get all the meaning of.

“I do try my best to help the greater good,” Master Sy assured him. “Sometimes it’s hard to see what that is. That’s why the Council takes great pains to move so carefully.”

Master Doo didn’t object even though it looked like he wanted to.

Jaster shook his head. “If I wasn’t so intimately familiar with my own council, I’d be more shocked.”

“Some things are universal, it seems,” Master Sy said dryly.

Ben let out a quiet _harrumph_ and sipped his tea.

“Play the next bit,” Jango said, waving at the comm.

Crys darted out and fiddled with the buttons for a minute. Rewinding it, apparently, because the holo vid picked up right as holo Obi-Wan was saying that the Force was telling him to go.

Holo Master Mace raised one eyebrow. _“Is it the Force you’re listening to, or just your own desire? I know how excited you are for this trip.”_

“Force, see? Even the _jetiise_ call banthashit on that,” Helix bitched, and then was shushed.

No one missed anything because holo Obi-Wan was quiet, thinking.

 _“Both, Master Mace,”_ holo Obi-Wan said finally. _“I wanna go awfully bad, it’s true. But I think I **need** to go too.”_ He tilted his head. _“What does it tell you, Master Mace?”_

Ben gestured at the holo. “See? They align most of the time.” Then it was his turn to be shushed.

Holo Master Mace pressed his lips together for a moment and then said, _“That is a very good question, Initiate Kenobi.”_

“And also not an answer,” Waxer said, unimpressed.

“Jedi Masters have perfected the art of not giving a direct answer,” Master Doo said dryly.

Jaster, Jango, and the _vod’e_ all gave Master Doo a disgruntled look. Ben and Master Sy just smirked. Obi-Wan almost wanted to smirk with them, but that was probably a thing masters did. Once he figured out how to answer without answering, he would absolutely smirk.

Again, the holo Councilors were silent.

 _“Hmm. More discussion, need we?”_ holo Master Yoda asked them. There were more significant glances among the holo Councilors. _“Very well. Vote, we will. Initiate Kenobi, traveling to Mandalore with Master Sifo-Dyas, vote now if in favor, you are.”_

Jango leaned in and Jaster narrowed his eyes. The network spiked with curiosity and focus.

The little holos of Master Sifo-Dyas, Master Plo, Master Kit, Master Yaddle, Master Gallia, Master Mace, and Master Mundi all raised their hands. The rest stayed lowered. 

Holo Master Sifo-Dyas smiled at holo Obi-Wan. _“Looks like we are headed to Mandalore, Obi-Wan.”_

Holo Obi-Wan cheered and bounced. 

Master Sy summoned his comm to him with the Force, turned it off, and stowed it in one of the pockets of his robe.

“That was a close vote,” Jaster said eventually.

“It was,” Master Sy agreed. “I’m not sure if you realize just how unconventional this situation is. Family bonds are very taboo, and for good reason. As Jedi, we must follow the Force. We must be _neutral_.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together. “Personally, I think the visions were the deciding factor. And Obi-Wan’s excellent argument,” he added with a wink towards Obi-Wan.

Master Doo nodded. “They certainly didn’t vote that way after I met Jenza.” He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “The council has changed some in the last handful of years. Master Fisto and Master Windu are newer additions. Their more flexible attitudes will be good for the Council, I think.”

“Who’s Jenza?” Jango asked.

“My sister,” Master Doo answered evenly. “She lives on Serenno along with my younger brother and our birth father. Of the group, Jenza is the only one who I petitioned the Council to allow contact with.”

“... Jenza…” Jaster frowned and rubbed his chin. 

Master Doo smirked at him. His smirk grew wider as Jaster visibly put the pieces together. 

“Lady Jenza, daughter of Count Gora, ruler of Serenno?” Jaster asked.

“One and the same, I’m afraid.”

“Kri-- damn,” Jaster said, with a glance towards Obi-Wan. “Count Gora is…” Now he looked to Master Doo with concern.

“Oh, feel free to say it. He’s a bastard,” Master Doo said with amusement.

Master Sy glared at him. “You all swear too much.”

“We should throw a party when Obi-Wan reaches the age where we no longer need to mind our tongues,” Master Doo said dryly.

“Party! Will there be cake?” Obi-Wan perked up.

“I might be persuaded to make some,” Master Doo said aloofly. 

“That means yes!” Obi-Wan clapped.

“There must be something about your lineage, Master Dooku,” Master Sy said with a shake of his head.

“What? Who doesn’t like cake?” Crys asked, confused. 

Master Sy huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “No. Not that. It’s the aristocracy. If Master Dooku hadn’t been Force sensitive, he’d be first in line to become the next Count of Serenno. Qui-Gon’s current padawan, Xanatos, is also the son of a planetary governor. Ben is now technically a prince, as well.” 

“I’m not actually a part of the lineage,” Ben pointed out. “And Mandalore doesn’t really have princes.”

Jaster shrugged.

“You are,” Master Doo insisted. “Time travel doesn’t change that.”

“Your other padawan a crown prince somewhere?” Jango asked Master Doo.

“Rael?” Master Doo barked out a laugh. “No, no I’m afraid not.”

“He will be a regent, though,” Master Sy said, tone a bit distant. 

Master Doo snapped his attention on Master Sy. “ _What_.”

“Rael will be a regent protector, some years from now.”

The Force twisted around Master Sy. It reminded Obi-Wan of water gently spinning in a cup. 

Master Doo just looked flabbergasted. “ _Rael_? In charge of _anything_?”

Jaster snickered while Jango looked like he was considering taking a holo.

“He’ll be good at it,” Master Sy said, seeming to collect himself. The Force quieted. “He’s got the skills that are needed.”

“As fond and proud as I am of my first padawan, his chief skills are looking intimidating and being able to punch someone and stab someone else at the same time,” Master Doo said, still looking a little flustered.

“Alright, I really want to meet your first padawan,” Boil said.

Ben made a considering face. “Seems useful enough to me, depending on the planet. Where will he be watching over?”

Master Sy shrugged. “No idea.”

“Huh.” Jaster sat back in his chair. He looked a little impressed. “Jinn doesn’t end up ruling anything, does he?” he asked warily.

Ben let out a small laugh. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“Ah.” Jaster’s expression of satisfaction was back. 

“Thank kriff,” Longshot muttered.

“So the Council said no to you when they said yes to Obi-Wan,” Jango said, bringing the conversation back around.

Master Doo nodded. “I’m not surprised, really. I’m more surprised that they said yes to Obi-Wan. If not for the Force visions…” He gently shrugged. “Clearly, it is the will of the Force that you all meet.”

There was a moment of silence.

“It’s sad that you can’t talk to your _vod_ ,” Obi-Wan said. He’d be miserable if he wasn’t allowed to talk to his _vod’e_.

The network did something funny. There was that weird mix of agreement and unsettledness and concern. 

Ben pursed his lips together and then there was a flash of something. A decision made.

“You do talk to her, though, don’t you.” The way Ben said it, it wasn’t a question.

Master Doo smirked and Master Sy looked amused. 

“Master Kenobi, I’m afraid that as much as I might like to comm my little sister every few months or so, I would never blatantly disregard the High Council’s decisions on any matter, let alone one so potentially disastrous,” Master Doo said primly. 

Obi-Wan got the feeling that what Master Doo was saying wasn’t what he meant. Since Ben raised an eyebrow at him, he must have agreed. 

“You never know. This trip with Obi-Wan might set a good precedent with your Council,” Jaster said.

Master Sy said, “It’s possible.”

Master Doo didn’t look convinced. 

“On the bright side, the royal family of Serenno is easy enough to keep tabs on,” Jango offered. “Holonet follows them around like mad.”

“So I’ve heard,” Master Sy said with a small smile. 

At some point in the conversation, the atmosphere had turned relaxed again. It was enough to make Obi-Wan melt further into Waxer and Cody’s hold.

The talking continued on, but Obi-Wan didn’t pay much attention to it. He just followed the feel of everyone around him in the Force and let his mind rest.

The _vod’e_ were still sitting in a pile, but it was more like their usual cuddle piles than the anxious huddle that they’d done earlier. Most of the anger had fled Jaster and Jango, and what remained was a cool, measured thing that easily was overshadowed by their pleasure at talking with everyone. 

Now that no one was upset anymore, Obi-Wan’s eyes started to drift closed.

The easy talk of everyone around him lulled him even further into a light doze. Master Doo’s deep, resonant voice mixed with Master Sy’s lighter tenor. Jaster and Jango’s sharp, concise statements matched well with the soothing, high sounds of the _vod’e_ speaking. Ben’s polite, musical treble poked in here and there. _Mando’a_ flowed in with Basic until Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what he was listening to.

He yawned so wide he felt like his jaw was going to break off.

“Ah. Time for bed for the little one, I think,” Master Sy said.

“Wh’t, no, ‘m’f’ne…” Obi-Wan mumbled. The network rang with amusement.

Then Obi-Wan was being carefully pulled out of Cody and Waxer’s arms. He was settled against someone’s chest, with his head resting on a shoulder. The scent of tea and fragrant wood filled his nose, something his brain immediately identified as Master Sy’s scent. He clung to the soft robes under his hands and nuzzled in.

“Good night, Obi-Wan,” many voices said.

“Good night, Cadet,” others chimed in.

There was quiet talking around the room and soft laughter. Obi-Wan was sad that he was leaving even if it was to go lay down on his ultra fluffy bed.

As Master Sy carried him off towards his bedroom, Obi-Wan pried open his eyes to get one last look at everyone. 

The room was bathed in golden light from the lamps and heat from the kitchen made the space warm and cozy. Sweet and savory scents hung in the air. Everyone was relaxed and happy, talking and joking.

Obi-Wan thought that this must be what family looked like.

\--


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **HIATUS IMMINENT!**
> 
> After this chapter this fic will be going on a short hiatus as we switch over to posting the ridiculousness that was the Dinner Out over the course of the next few weeks, so here's a link to [The 212th Attack Battalion's Guide to On Site Procurement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552767).

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

For the first time in weeks, or maybe _months_ , Jaster had a whole day off to do nothing. Which meant that he had a whole day off to spend with his _ad’e_. 

It was Ben who’d given him the idea. He’d seen Jaster groaning in frustration over a pile of datapads in his office and suggested he, and the Council, take a couple days off. 

The Council had agreed quickly enough, which meant that they’d been ready for a respite, too. 

He’d debated a lot on what to do, where to take everyone. No doubt the _vod’e_ would want Obi-Wan to join, which meant bringing the little one’s _buir’e_. Not that he minded that. Dooku and Sifo-Dyas were interesting people. 

He was still furious over what Ben had revealed about his past with the Order and their treatment of him. The only thing that had stopped him from immediately kicking the two masters right off his planet was the fact that they’d been just as appalled to hear about it as Jaster was. The more Jaster thought about it, the more he noticed that the _jetiise_ High Councilors had seemingly differing opinions, even on what he'd thought was a basic tenet of their Order. 

On the one hand, that meant that there was the potential for conflict and with it, difficult situations for those under their care. Ben and Sifo-Dyas being prime examples. Kark, but Jaster hadn’t realized just how little the other _jetiise_ thought of Sifo-Dyas until he'd seen the veiled disrespect that the other _High Council members_ offered him. 

On the other hand, conflicting opinions were good for a ruling body. It meant that they _thought_ about what they were doing. Nothing was decided without examining the pros and cons. Maybe that was done on purpose, to strengthen the Order. No way for him to tell with the limited information he had.

Slowly but surely, Jaster was beginning to realize that the _jetiise_ as a group were more complicated than he expected.

So he had decided to continue to trust Sifo-Dyas and Dooku. It helped that the _vod’e_ also seemed to still be at ease with the two masters. The _vod’e_ were as outraged as anything about what Ben had said, but they never blamed it on the two masters present. That was telling. 

All of that meant that wherever Jaster took his _ad’e_ for family bonding time, he’d be dragging along two _jetiise_ and their _jet’ika_ , too. That was bound to get him some weird looks in some of the more traditional places he could think of to visit. 

It did give him an idea, though. 

That morning at breakfast he told them all that he’d made plans for them. Morning was to be spent at their regular lessons. Ardanna would skin him if he took Wooley out of his morning routine without good reason. Or at least without lots of heads up notice. Instead, Jaster took the opportunity to sit with the _vod’e_ in Ardanna’s workshop and chatter with them all while they all cleaned their weapons. That had turned out to be just as entertaining as he’d hoped it would. Kark, but the _vod’e_ had the craziest gossip sessions.

After lunch, Jaster and Jango took two speeders and hauled everyone, _vod’e_ and _jetiise_ , off to the market. 

They stopped at several spice shops to pick up supplies for Obi-Wan and Sifo-Dyas to take home with them. The _jet’ika_ about vibrated away with the excitement of being able to attempt to make some of the foods he’d had during their visit. Sifo-Dyas seemed very appreciative, too, and had found a number of seasonings that he wanted to try. 

After that, Ben and Dooku dragged them all along to the _one_ shop in the market that had any kind of variety with tea. 

Jango, Jaster, and the _vod’e_ all watched the _jetiise_ flutter around like happy butterflies, sniffing and poking at each tin. The whole thing just made Jaster shake his head. 

“As long as they’re happy, I guess,” he said.

Jango snorted in amusement, while the _vod’e_ kept watch. 

They tromped over to the Jaster’s favorite bakery after that and the younglings all got treated to frozen fruit bowls. He’d noticed that the _vod’e_ didn’t much care for outright sugary things -- barring the now infamous cake and Mandalorian pudding, both of which weren’t nearly as sweet as most desserts -- so the iced fruit seemed like a good idea. Naturally sweet, with a bit of sugary tree sap added to make it special. 

All of the younglings loved it. Dooku tried one too, to Jaster's surprise. 

“He has a sweet tooth,” Sifo-Dyas had confided in him with a quiet whisper.

They watched as everyone happily picked out flavors and waited anxiously to get their order.

“And you don’t?” Jaster asked, curious.

“Not as much as he does,” Sifo-Dyas responded with a grin. 

Jaster nodded his head in acknowledgement. It was his and Jango’s turn to keep watch while the others enjoyed themselves. As unlikely as it was that anyone would attack the _Mand’alor_ and his _aliit_ , he couldn’t help but watch for it. 

Some of his reasoning was justified paranoia. They’d beaten Death Watch back, but that didn’t mean that they were _gone_. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. For that matter, the _Mando’ad’e_ were still conflicted about the presence of _jetiise_ in Sundari. It was unlikely that anyone would make a scene with Jaster around, but it was doubly unlikely that anyone would make a scene if he was visibly on his guard. 

Part of his reasoning was purely concern over his _ad’e_. He was sure that Ben and the _vod’e_ wouldn’t allow themselves to relax enough to enjoy their treat if they didn’t know that _someone_ was on guard. It made his heart ache to think about. The best thing to do was to just go with it and keep watch, setting them at ease, rather than try to convince them that there was nothing to worry about. 

He’d decide if he needed to jump that hurdle later. The younglings were all still relatively fresh off the battlefield. It would take time for the combat hypervigilance to fade. He’d never been as combat fatigued as this group clearly was, but he’d met _verd’e_ who were. He knew the signs and how to ease their transition to something less fraught. 

“Thank you for allowing us to visit,” Sifo-Dyas said, unexpectedly drawing Jaster from his thoughts.

“Hm?” Jaster dragged his attention away from watching the look of delight on Longshot’s face as he licked his spoon. “Oh. Yeah. Thank you for making the experience an enjoyable one. Seeing you interact with your _ad’ika_ set a lot of worries at ease, and not just with the _vod’e_.”

A great deal of the idea that _jetiise_ were passionless fanatics had been blown away when the _mando’ad’e_ had gotten to see Sifo-Dyas and Dooku interact with each other and Obi-Wan. 

Watching them now, the _vod’e_ and the baby _jet’ika_ seemed really happy. Even Ben, who’d been reserved at the start of this endeavor, was smiling and enjoying himself. Dooku stood with a sense of poised relaxation, and more than a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. The ever intimidating _jetii_ appeared more human now than he ever had before. Like a real person and not just a cold, unfeeling potential adversary. 

He suddenly realized that the _jetiise_ were scheduled to depart in just a few rotations. Somehow, the weeks had just flown right by. Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan had managed to worm their way into the way life flowed around the palace with significantly less disruption than Jaster had expected.

“I’m glad,” Sifo-Dyas said. His voice dropped a touch lower and quieter, as he repeated, “I’m glad. This is good for Master Dooku. Being here with Ben and his _vod’e_. They’ll help him, and he’ll help you all in ways you likely won’t expect.”

Jaster gave Sifo-Dyas a side-eyed glance. It didn’t look like he was having one of his spells, but what the kriff did Jaster know about that shit. 

“Oh?”

Sifo-Dyas nodded. “I have compiled a proposal for you and your Council about what will be needed to set up the Agricorps here.”

Jaster blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Alright. Tomorrow, you can present it to us.”

He knew that his _ad’ike_ had been showing the _jetiise_ around the city, and had helped gather some information about potential bases of operations. Provided that what they requested was within reason, Jaster found he didn’t care much about how and where they set up. He reserved the right to boot them all out of his sector if he needed to, but if the visiting farmer _jetiise_ were anything like Sifo-Dyas or Ben or Plo, then that probably wouldn’t be necessary. 

There was the concern about security. Ben said that the Agricorps weren’t fighters, and it was also true that the _Mando’ad’e_ were a hotheaded bunch. He might need to coordinate with the City Guard to keep the peace, or maybe assign some _verd’e_ to keeping an eye on things. He’d figure out what was needed once he heard Sifo-Dyas’ proposal.

Despite lingering concerns about Death Watch, they likely wouldn’t be an issue, not to Mandalore or to the visiting _jetiise_. Well, not a _major_ one. Everyone would be running on high alert for a few months yet, but the coordinated efforts between the clans and the Order had been very effective. 

Politically, Jaster was in a firmer position than ever. The Death Watch campaign had very effectively corralled the clans into working together. Mostly. He’d have a bear of a time _keeping_ them working together, but at least now he had some hope of success. 

An idea suddenly occurred to him.

“Do you think Obi-Wan would be able to sit through a Council meeting?” Jaster asked.

Now it was Sifo-Dyas’ turn to give a side-eyed glance to Jaster. “Perhaps, if properly engaged. Why?”

“It might help. The _verd’e_ like your _ad_ , and _mando’ad’e_ value family and education. Remind the Council that you value those things, too, and they’ll be more likely to take whatever you have to say with good grace,” he reasoned.

It would work. Provided that Obi-Wan could be convinced to behave. Jaster would have never suggested it for any other child that age; they’d be too likely to get bored and cause mischief. 

Sifo-Dyas hummed at him. “That is a good point.”

“Let him bring his lessons or something,” Jaster suggested.

That prompted Sifo-Dyas to smile. “Oh no, I have a better idea. I’ll have Master Dooku hold him, and whisper rules about how to behave in front of an important group of people. It will be a learning experience for them both.”

Jaster held back a bark of laughter. No doubt it would be. He was looking forward to watching Dooku flail. 

He'd never thought that interacting with _jetiise_ would be like this. They somehow managed to live up to every wild story that he’d ever heard about the Order during his days as a bounty hunter, while also being completely different. 

There were still a few _jetiise_ that Jaster wanted to personally introduce to his fist, but there were just as many -- if not more -- that had proven themselves to be as honorable as any _ori’ramikad_. 

When he’d first adopted Ben and his _vod’e_ and had to sit and listen to some of the horrors that his _ad’ike_ had for memories, Jaster had been certain that any member of the Jedi Order had to be his ideological opposite. That Ben was just a fluke that had managed to escape the Order before his spirit was extinguished.

Now, he wasn’t so sure. Against all odds and expectations, Jaster _liked_ Dooku and his _riduur_. Their _ad_ was happy and healthy and never once had the _jetiise_ ever given the impression that they would stifle that in any way. 

The Order had reached out to support Ben, too, in their own fashion. That highlighted to Jaster that whatever had happened to him in his past, whatever the Order was like then, that might not be who they were _now_. He wondered what had changed. Or maybe ‘who’. After all, they’d all watched that High Council meeting recording, where there was so much argument about the simple matter of a child visiting some relatives. 

The whole mess left Jaster feeling cautiously optimistic. 

This was more than a passing alliance. Jaster could feel it. 

From the way Ben talked, he expected that this Agricorps project would last for years. Not to mention, there was the fact that the _vod’e_ would undoubtedly want Obi-Wan to visit again. Dooku was here indefinitely, and had hinted that now that Mandalore was considered ‘friendly’ to _jetiise_ , they might have more knights stopping by from time to time. That apparently included a couple of the knights who’d joined them on the Death Watch campaign.

Kark, this visit had gone well enough that Jaster was sort of considering a return visit to the Temple on Coruscant. Mandalore had been quiet on the galactic stage for a long time. With the clans working together and stability brought back to their sector, they could leverage some new gains in trade agreements. More than that, Jaster was certain that if Mandalore wasn’t busy dealing with infighting, they could set up more effective taxes on those passing by the Hydian Way Hyperlane. 

The Hydian Way was the _only_ hyperlane that crossed the entire galaxy, and it passed right by the Mandalore Sector. In better days, the Mandalorian Empire had controlled the upper half of that hyperlane with an iron fist. Jaster would content himself with better monitoring of the part that was currently within Mandalore’s reach. Eventually, he’d need to go talk to the Republic Senate about it, if only to tell them to pay up or take a different hyperlane. 

The facts suddenly crystalized for him. 

Death Watch was gone, mostly if not totally. Jaster wasn’t just expected to attend ruling council meetings, he was being _listened to_. He and his _ad’e_ had helped create sector wide plans to bolster safety and economic security. Jaster was considering long term relationships between Mandalore and other powerful groups.

Jaster had held the title of _Mand’alor_ for a few years now, but for the first time in his life, he really felt like he was _sole ruler_. More than just his Headhunters looked to him for guidance and safety. 

Sifo-Dyas bumped shoulders with him. “You’ll do great,” he whispered.

Jaster gave him a startled look, and then barked out a laugh.

“Was it that obvious what I was thinking?” he asked.

“No,” Sifo-Dyas replied with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Karking Force _osik_ ,” Jaster muttered, shaking his head. He couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Guess I better get used to it, given my _ad’ike_.”

“They’ll certainly keep everyone on their toes,” was the cryptic reply. 

Before Jaster could comment further on that, the rest of the group had finished their treats and were ready for the next part of their journey.

From there they walked around the city. Jaster wanted to burn off some of Obi-Wan’s boundless energy as well as burn some time before dinner.

Dinner was going to be something special.

\--

(((The events of the Dinner Out can be found in the side fic, [The 212th Attack Battalion’s Guide to On Site Procurement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552767). This isn’t necessary reading to understand the main fic, but we sure enjoyed writing it!)))

\--- POV: Helix Mereel ---

When he woke up for the morning after their dinner out, Helix was not at all surprised to find that the General was already awake. He was still curled up with the rest of them, but it was obvious in the network that he was deep in meditation.

Probably a good thing, considering how the night had ended for them. The dinner itself had gone incredibly well. Well… mostly well. There had been a lot of ups and downs. Over all, Helix counted it as a win, and he knew that he wasn’t the only one looking forward to heading back to _Buir_ Az’okk’s for dinner again.

The ride home had spurred some interesting conversation between Kenobi and Dooku. Master Dooku apparently had some very different ideas than Master Jinn did on what being a Jedi meant, even though they used the same terminology. Their discussion had given the General quite the upset. 

Privately, Helix had been sort of preparing himself for something like this. Master Dooku seemed to delight in poking and prodding at people. He’d spun them all up once or twice, subtly. It didn’t even seem malicious; that was probably the most surprising part. 

So maybe it was inevitable that eventually Master Dooku would say something that would put the General in a tizzy. 

Since the subject under discussion had been the General’s tendency to ignore his own health, Helix was even shockingly on board with the prodding, this time. He tried to let go of the tiny spark of outrage and jealousy that it was _Master kriffing Dooku_ who'd finally seemed to get through to the General. 

Maybe it was because Master Dooku was a Jedi. Maybe it was because he was the General’s grandmaster. 

It didn’t really matter. The point was that the General had started to really _think_ about it all. To consider whether his risk taking was reasonable. For that alone, Helix would be thankful.

The fact that it was the _Vod’e_ that the General had retreated to in his attempt to make sense of the things he'd heard had made any flicker of annoyance disappear. Master Dooku’s words had set the General into a spiral, but the General had actually _talked to them_. He hadn’t cut himself off or wandered off alone to deal with it. He'd trusted them enough to tell them some more about his kriffing terrible past and then leaned on them for a little emotional support. 

That was worth all the credits in the galaxy, as far as Helix was concerned. He knew that his _vod’e_ felt the same. 

There was more grumbling as the rest of the _Vod’e_ clawed their way to consciousness. 

“Ugnngh,” Boil groaned. He twisted in place and shoved his head into Waxer’s side, which then caused a chain reaction of the rest of them getting squished out of the way. 

“Did you get any sleep at all?” Cody said, nudging the General.

“A little,” Kenobi replied. He sounded better. Calmer, definitely, but also a little happier too.

They all stretched and began the process of getting up and getting dressed. 

The awkwardness was coming. Helix could feel it.

“ _Vod’e_...” the General began.

There it was.

“Whatever you’re about to apologize for, it’s fine,” Helix said, interrupting that speeder wreck before it could get started. “We’re here to help. That’s what _vod'e_ are _supposed_ to do for each other.”

Waxer and Boil both leaned over to give the General a friendly bump on the shoulder, and then scurried off to get first crack at the ‘fresher. Luckily, there were two. Bless their _buir_.

Kenobi’s cheeks turned a little pink as he fiddled with his armor.

“I am a Jedi master. I should have better control of my emotions,” the General insisted. 

Him protesting so much also wasn’t a surprise for Helix. It was something that Healer Che had warned him about, that it might take some time for the recovering person to feel like they were allowed to talk about their past trauma. They might need some reassurance that they weren’t being a burden. Helix had seen the same thing in other _Vod’e_ , so it made sense that a _jetii_ might be no different. 

And, sith-hells. Now they knew a little more of what the General had gone through. Awful to hear, but a relief to know what they were dealing with, and maybe how they could help.

“It’s alright to show us that you have emotions,” Helix said firmly. Before the General could object, he added, “As for what a proper Jedi should do, you should comm General _Buir_.”

Helix would have preferred to give the General a rant on how bottling up emotions was unhealthy, but he knew how often that particular tactic misfired. General _Buir_ might have better luck. 

Maybe. Helix still had questions about the Jedi’s practices on how to handle strong emotions. He’d _thought_ that it was an organization wide bad practice. Now, knowing what he did about the Dark Side, the Jedi in general, and the General in particular, he had to wonder. 

He had to trust that General _Buir_ would know how to sort Kenobi out in a sane way. 

“We know what it’s like to hide things,” Crys added, giving the General’s shoulder a squeeze. "Or feel like we have to."

“It’ll wear you down,” Longshot said. He was sitting up, but still rubbing his eyes.

“I should have let go of my upset and then immediately meditated on the issue itself,” Kenobi insisted.

“No one can do everything perfectly every time, General,” Cody said. He was still half cuddled up to Kenobi, and looked disinclined to leave. “You did fine.”

“And don't forget: we’re still children,” Helix added the final bolt to the casket. “Physically, at least. We’re going to have some processing issues. Possible self control issues, too, though I’m curious about how much of that is an emotional maturity thing rather than a brain chemistry thing…”

He ruminated on the possibilities for a minute.

The General’s resigned sigh dragged his attention back to the matter at hand. 

“Alright, _Vod’e_ ,” he said. “I’ll comm Master Plo after firstmeal.”

Rather than answering with words, Helix and the rest of the _Vod’e_ present held the General in a tight hug. 

Kenobi was still learning that he was a _Vod_ , too. He’d made great progress already. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of them. Now, they just had to reassure him that he was right to do so. This was just another step along that path.

For now, they had other things to deal with. Like getting ready for firstmeal. 

They’d all slept in again. At least in comparison to their normal schedule. The Cadet’s routine was rubbing off on them and Helix could honestly say that he didn’t mind it. The extra sleep seemed to do them all good.

By the time they were all dressed and raiding the kitchen for caff, Jango and _Buir_ had shown up.

“Anyone start or order firstmeal yet?” Jango asked, poking through the cabinets.

“Food’s on the way,” Jaster said with a wave. His face looked significantly better than it had last night. There wasn’t any swelling at all, and the bruising had advanced in coloring by a lot. Kark, but Master Dooku really knew how to fight. At least _buir_ had given as good as he'd gotten.

“You,” Helix said, pointing at him. “Both of you, and the rest of you who took hits. Go sit at the table while I check you out.”

There was a grumbling chorus of, “Yes, Helix,” followed by an unimpressed look from Jango and an indulgent one from Jaster. 

They all went to the table, though. That was what was important.

Helix got out his medkit and started poking at injuries. He’d checked them all over last night after each fight. This was just a follow up. Standard operating procedure after spars like that, really. The _Vod’e_ were used to it. _Buir_ and Jango clearly weren’t, though they obviously realized that they couldn’t escape.

Crys, Longshot, Jango, and Cody all looked about as Helix expected. The bacta patches from last night had done their jobs. Helix reapplied some to a few of the worst looking spots, but mostly left them alone. 

_Buir_ , on the other hand, didn’t need any additional prodding. 

Kark, but their _buir_ had been thirsting so badly over Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas during those fight exhibitions that Helix had debated about placing bets on the matter himself. 

Personally, he couldn’t see the appeal. He supposed that objectively Master Dooku wasn’t a bad looking person. A bit on the imposing side, but some people went for that kind of thing. Helix couldn’t quite get the mental image of the much older, significantly more evil version of Dooku out of his head. It made his brain go _Gah!_ when considering Master Dooku in a romantic setting. The cognitive dissonance was real.

The rest of the bar hadn’t agreed with him. Helix had overheard more speculation about the state of Master Dooku’s undergarments than he ever wanted to, again, especially while sober. It seemed the tendency towards a competency kink was strong in the _mando’ad verd’e_. He probably shouldn’t be surprised. The _Vod’e_ had similar tendencies.

For all that it had looked like _Buir_ and Master Dooku were having fun during their spar, they'd really done a number on each other in the ring. Master Dooku and Sifo-Dyas had offered to give Jaster a little Force healing boost at the end of the night.

‘Force healing’. Sure. Helix had half expected Jaster to spend the night with the _jetiise_. Because the really crazy part of the whole night was that Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas had seemed to notice Jaster’s attention and also _flirted back_. 

Helix gave Jaster a raised eyebrow. “So the _jetiise_ really did lend you a hand.”

The General choked on his tea, and then coughed delicately, while the rest of the _Vod’e_ broke out into snickers.

“Sadly, not in the way you’re thinking, _ad’ika_ ,” Jaster answered dryly. “But they did give me a little extra Force healing.

Helix hummed at him and eyed Jaster up and down. He looked a little tired, but not overly exhausted. There was something that felt a little different. It was hard to pin down.

He’d have to wait and gather more information.

“Alright,” he said, waving a hand at the lot of them. “You’re all free from my clutches, for now.”

There was a small rush towards the caff maker as Helix packed away his supplies.

Cody’s comm pinged.

“The Cadet is running a little late,” he said, after looking through his messages. “He and Masters Dooku and Sifo-Dyas will be here soon.”

“Not a shock. Yesterday was an exciting day for the _jet’ika_ ,” Jaster said.

“It was pretty fun for the rest of us, too, _buir_ ,” Boil said as he happily cradled a hot cup of liquid sanity.

“All of those weapons,” Waxer chortled, with a shark-wide grin. He’d really gotten a good haul from hustling the bar with bets on the fights.

“All of that meditation that you owe Master Dooku,” the General said as he brought his tea to the table. 

Cody just covered his face with one hand and shook his head.

“Worth it. Besides, think of the bets I could have settled about whether or not the _jetiise_ wear underwear?” Waxer had on his best innocent look. It wasn’t terribly innocent. 

“I’m surprised Dooku didn’t ‘sabre you,” Wooley said with a snort.

Kenobi laughed. “Oh, Waxer might wish that he had, _Vod’e_. Three hours of meditation can be quite challenging.”

Waxer exchanged a confused look with Wooley.

“It’s just sitting around doing nothing for three hours?” Wooley said with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, but what position are you sitting in?” Kenobi asked with polite curiosity.

Silence rang through the dining room. 

“ _Osik_ ”, Waxer muttered under his breath. 

“It can’t be that bad… can it?” Crys asked.

Helix snorted. “One day I’ll need to educate you on stress positions, _Vod_.”

“He’s a Jedi. He wouldn’t _deliberately_...” Longshot let that thought trail off.

Dooku was a Jedi _now_ , but he’d Fallen at some point in the future. When had that tendency towards Darkness and cruelty started? Surely, the Order wouldn’t condone anything that would actually be _damaging_.

“Mmmm. When I was an initiate and a padawan, it was considered customary to meditate while kneeling,” the General said.

“Kneeling,” Boil said.

“For three hours,” Wooley added, sounding more than a little horrified.

“In armor,” Crys said with a wince.

Waxer looked like he might cry.

The General chuckled at him. “It likely won’t be that bad, _Vod’e_. The point of this meditation probably isn’t to see how much suffering you can get through and still keep your focus.”

“ _Probably_ ,” Jango muttered under his breath.

“Although,” the General added with a pensive look at the tea in his cup. “Master Dooku was Master Yoda’s padawan.”

They all waited a beat.

“So?” Cody asked.

Kenobi gave Cody a rueful look. “Master Yoda has unique ideas about what proper training of a padawan includes. Surely, every master has their own style. His is…” The General shrugged. “As part of his lineage, occasionally Master Yoda would volunteer to share some of his own teaching with me, during the rare instances that Master Qui-Gon and I were actually in-Temple. I remember one such event where Master Yoda had me hold a handstand for an hour, while levitating several heavy objects, plus whatever he decided to throw at me.” 

The General had gotten this far off look, like he was remembering that moment with mild horror mixed with nostalgia. 

Then he blinked and shook his head. “Master Dooku is unlikely to have you do something like that, since you’re unable to utilize the Force in that way.”

Waxer gave Kenobi such a grumpy face that Helix had to stifle a laugh. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Kenobi said with a smile that only seemed somewhat insincere. 

Jaster cackled quietly to himself while Waxer groaned.

There was a bright _nudge_ in the network, seconds before the door chime went off. 

“Ah, looks like the Cadet is here,” Cody said with a small, besotted smile. To be fair, the rest of them had similar expressions. 

“I’ll get it,” Wooley said with a wave.

“Prepare to get tackled, _Vod’e_ ,” Helix said. He could feel how excited little Obi-Wan was, to the point where he’d almost gotten a full mental projection of the _jet’ika_ bouncing in the hall. He didn’t need a full psychic projection to imagine what was happening, though.

That had brightened Waxer up immediately, and Boil with him.

“ _Vod’e!_ ” Obi-Wan bounded into the room. Sure enough, he crashed into Boil, thankfully not hard enough to knock them over in the chair. 

“Where’s the fire, _ad’ika_?” Jaster asked with a smile.

“Fire? Is there a fire?!” Obi-Wan perked up even more and started looking around the room.

The rest of them chuckled as Wooley let Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas into the room.

“It’s an expression, Obi-Wan,” Master Sifo-Dyas said. “It means that he wants to know why you’re so worked up.”

“Ohhh.” Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. And then he drooped a little. The network rang with his clear disappointment in the lack of a fire.

Cody rubbed his face with one hand in exasperation, but he was chuckling under his breath, too.

“Force, no wonder he loves Rex,” Longshot said under his breath. 

“I’m jus’ happy to see you all,” Obi-Wan explained with a serious nod. “Yesterday was _so much fun_ ‘nd we did _all_ the things, ‘nd it was _a-maz-ing_.”

“I’m glad you had a good time, _jet’ika_ ,” Jaster said. A pleased smile spread across his face. The expression sharpened as he turned to look at Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas.

Both of whom looked ridiculously tired. And pleased.

By now, even Helix had to agree with Waxer. Those two were absolutely kriffing. 

He cast a glance back and forth between Jaster and the _jetiise_. Something had happened there, but he really didn’t think it was sex. There was too much of a hungry edge to their _buir_ ’s expression. If they’d actually gotten around to kriffing him, then he’d probably be more smug. And likely way more kriffing tired.

“Good morning,” Master Sifo-Dyas said to them all with a respectful nod. Master Dooku nodded a greeting to them as well. 

_I’ll just bet it is_ , Helix thought with a purely mental snort of amusement.

The two of them took their seats as the rest of the group returned their salutations. Helix noticed that neither of them were moving particularly quickly. Master Dooku had on that barely-there smirk of his.

A sharp movement caught his eye. Jango had jabbed Jaster in the side, and pointedly asked, “Is there more caff, _buir_?”

“I’m not sure, _ad_ ,” Jaster replied, finally ripping his gaze away from the _jetiise_. Force, he couldn’t be more obvious about eye-kriffing them if he’d given them a gold inlaid invitation. “You could go check?”

“You know what? Sure.” Jango rolled his eyes and stalked towards the kitchen. There was the distinct sound of grumbling as he left.

Crys, Longshot, and Boil looked like they were about to burst with laughter. Waxer wasn’t too far off from that himself. Cody’s mouth twitched and Helix and Wooley both snickered quietly.

“What’s so funny?” Obi-Wan asked, looking between them all.

“Nothing,” Ben said. “Here, masters. I’ve made tea.” With a small gesture, the tea pot scooted across the table by itself towards Master Dooku and Master Sifo-Dyas.

“Thank you,” Master Dooku said primly. 

They all took a moment to pass around the pot and doctor their drinks as they preferred. Most of the _Vod’e_ were still gathering their wits along with their caff fix. Jango and _Buir_ seemed to be in the same boat.

Both the older _jetiise_ appeared to be in a rather good mood, despite both of them sporting dark circles under their eyes. With Master Dooku it was harder to tell. There was still some impressive bruising on one eye and down his cheek; that, too, looked well advanced in the healing process. Clearly, he’d had a chance to do some kind of Force healing on himself. 

Helix was tempted to assume that he’d just gone into a healing trance. But he didn’t think that was the right answer. Or at least not all of the right answer. Master Dooku wasn’t moving right for it. If he’d spent a portion of the night in a healing trance, then he wouldn’t be moving like he ached.

The network buzzed with interest as they all thought over the implications. Each and every one of them was focused on their _buir_ and the _jetiise_ masters. Another minute or two and Helix wondered if Crys might try to shake the answers out of them.

There was a small spike of exasperation and irritation from Kenobi over the obvious tenor of speculation to their thoughts. This morphed into a subtle sense of teasing curiosity.

 _Oh, this will be good_ , Helix thought as he waited to see what the General would do.

“Did you both sleep well?” Kenobi asked, like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Jaster lightly coughed and then cleared his throat.

Master Sifo-Dyas smiled warmly at Ben, as if he wasn’t calling them both out on their suspected all-night sex marathon. 

Helix leaned in a bit to hear the answer. Professional curiosity only, of course. And it wasn’t like he was the only one. 

“After such an exciting night, it did take a while to wind down,” Master Sifo-Dyas replied easily. “As I expect you noticed, as well. Did you get enough rest? You seem a bit tired.”

Boil choked on his caff while Longshot, Crys, and Waxer covered snickers. Cody looked up at the ceiling like he was praying for strength. Helix and Wooley exchanged an impressed look. 

That was mighty fine double-talk, and an excellent turn around on the General. 

Kenobi’s wince was purely mental. They could infer that the older _jetiise_ had spent their night having fun, but the General was not in the same boat. 

“As you say, it did take a while to wind down,” Kenobi said blandly. “There were so many exciting demonstrations to ruminate on. You two both put on quite the display.”

Parry and riposte.

The rest of the table switched their attention to Master Sifo-Dyas. Watching two High Councilors go at it with innuendo was pretty damn great. Helix almost wished that Crys was recording it. 

Meh. They’d share the memory between them all later while they played cards. 

“Thank you. We did enjoy ourselves.” Master Sifo-Dyas smiled warmly at the General. It might have been Helix’s imagination, but he thought he saw Master Sifo-Dyas flicker a glance in _Buir_ ’s direction. 

“It’s so seldom that we get a chance to show off like that,” Master Dooku added. He had on a tiny smile that was far too innocent to be real. 

A quick movement to the side stole Helix’s attention away from the _jetiise_ as Jaster drained the rest of his caff in one pull and then dropped his cup to the table. 

“I’m gonna go check on our meal,” he said, and stood up and walked out.

 _Huh_.

That was highly suspicious. 

Sure, _Buir_ had been watching the _jetiise_ pretty closely during the pit fights. They all had. Watching a _jetii_ spar was good entertainment. And it was true that Jaster had been very clearly undressing them with his eyes. Even given that, his reaction now seemed a little extreme. 

Maybe _Buir_ was just a little extra flustered around people he was actually attracted to? That didn’t feel quite right, but Helix couldn’t be sure. 

Darist would know. Or Ardanna. He could question them on it later.

With that plan of attack in place, Helix drew his attention back to the General and the _jetiise_. 

Kenobi watched their _buir_ ’s retreating form with a very slightly raised eyebrow. Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Dooku both looked mildly amused. 

“I thought that Jedi were supposed to be humble?” Crys asked with a small frown.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Master Dooku said with an imperiously raised eyebrow. There was still a touch of a smile on his lips, so the expression didn’t come off nearly as imposing as it could have. 

Damn, but Master Dooku was in a very good mood.

Helix suddenly worried about what would happen after Master Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan left. They’d all be missing the Cadet, and Master Sifo-Dyas had grown on them all, too. Master Dooku would probably miss his _riduur_ something fierce. 

While he was mulling that over, the conversation had gone on around him. Helix settled in to watch with a feeling bordering on glee.

This was better than anything he could find on the holonet.

\--- POV: Young Obi-Wan Kenobi ---

Obi-Wan hadn't wanted to get up this morning. Not even a little.

Yesterday was _the best day_. So fun. But he was so tired now, even after a full night’s sleep.

He'd kept his grumbling to a minimum as Master Sy and Master Doo had herded him off to see his _Vod’e_. They didn’t have a lot of time together left in this trip. Obi-Wan knew that he and Master Sy were leaving in a couple of days. Two or three. He wasn’t sure on the details. 

_Soon_. That was the important part.

So he went to firstmeal without complaint. Lucky for him, it seemed like Master Sy and Master Doo were really tired, too. They were slower than usual with getting ready to leave the suite, and walked like their bones hurt. They both seemed really happy, though, so Obi-Wan didn’t worry too much about them. It must have been all the fighting that they did. Master Doo’s face still looked a little bruised. 

Obi-Wan still felt a little grumbly. He wanted more sleep. He wanted more time with Ben and his _Vod’e_. He _wanted_ to do a million things here in the palace, things that he hadn’t _once_ had time for yet.

His promise not to sneak out at night to explore probably should have chafed at him. Truthfully, though, Obi-Wan had slept deeply and well during his time here -- barring the nights where he had nightmares. Even then, his _Vod’e_ had helped. 

Which meant that his opportunities for unsupervised exploration had been limited. 

All of that plodded through his head as he sat down for firstmeal. Not that anyone was paying attention. Everyone was staring at each other in ways that implied stuff that everyone was thinking but no one was _saying_ , but they weren’t _reaaaaallly_ thinking them either, because then Obi-Wan would have heard them in the network. 

Which meant they were shielding it. For some reason.

It sounded like Adult Stuff to Obi-Wan. Things he probably wouldn’t care about anyways. At the very least, everyone seemed to be pretty happy?

He was sort of confused about the whole thing. He just wanted to eat. And then maybe go running down that big hall that echoed so much.

Obi-Wan froze.

 _The big hall that echoed_. 

It wasn’t night time now. He hadn’t promised not to sneak out when it wasn’t night time. Which meant he could sneak out now and he wouldn’t be breaking his word! No one would be mad at him!

He cast a covert glance around the table. 

No one was paying him any attention. Not even a little. 

Slowly, Obi-Wan sank down in his chair. Down, down, down until he couldn’t even really see over it at all. Just to be sure that no one paid him any mind, he kept his thoughts sleepy and simple. It probably wouldn’t have worked if his _Vod’e_ were paying attention. 

But they weren’t. 

He waited another moment, and then slid down out of his chair. Rather than sneaking, he tried to walk casually. Anything that felt out of the norm would be remarked upon, or so the flashes of Ben’s memories had told him. So he just… walked. Easy like. Over to the other room and then up to the door. He opened it up super, duper real quiet.

And then he was _free_.

A wild grin cracked across his face. Any moment now, Master Sy or Ben or his _Vod’e_ would see that he slipped out of eating firstmeal -- they were all so weird about eating all the time -- and they’d come for him. He needed to make his time count.

Obi-Wan ran down the hall, tearing straight for that massive corridor with the tall arches, giggling like a mad the whole time. 

This was gonna be _great_.

\--- POV: Kree Wren ---

Kree blinked. And then blinked again.

There was the little _jet’ika_ , running up the hall towards him where he was standing guard. He wanted to rub his eyes just to see if the view would change.

“Tal…” he said on the private channel he shared with his guard partner for the day. 

“Yeah, I see him too,” the older _verd_ responded.

Kree looked around. No _vod’e_ were chasing after the little one. No _jetiise_ either. 

That was ominous. The Headhunters kept a running tally on where Jaster was at any given time -- something they hadn’t really bothered with before Korda VI, but had adopted without complaint at Cody’s insistence. So Kree knew that the Mereels should all be having firstmeal right now.

When the _jet’ika_ got close enough, Kree took a step forward and held out his hand for the young one to stop. “Hey, _jet’ika_ \--” he started.

The little one ran right by him, giggling uncontrollably. The kid didn’t even _look_ at him. It was like Kree wasn’t even there.

“Kark,” Kree bitched, while Tal, that asshole, laughed at him. 

Kree took another minute to look around. Nope. Still no minders. Double kark.

“We should probably catch him,” Kree said hesitantly.

“Then you better get on it. He just turned the corner,” Tal said, looking down the hall behind them. The faint echo of, “HeeheeHEHEheeheeHEheheHEHE…” floated back to them.

“ _Karking kriff_.” Kree took off after the slippery little _jet’ika_. First, jumping into the ring like that last night, and now this? The hell were those _jetiise_ doing to encourage this kind of insanity?

He hauled ass down the hall, mentally grumbling the whole way.

 _It’s probably not the_ jetiise _encouraging this. All_ ad’ike _are like this_. 

Hells, his own clan of cousins and siblings pulled worse shit than the baby _jetii_ did any day. Or at least that’s what he told himself as he huffed through the palace. 

Kriff, he’d chased down bounties that weren’t as good at getting away as this little one.

“Since you’re busy running around like a loon, I thought I should comm ahead,” Tal said over their private channel. “The guards at the doors will stop him if he tries to get out.”

This wasn’t part of their job description. Not really. Alright, maybe it was _a little_. Every _mando’ad_ had to keep an eye out for the Foundlings. This was The Way. 

He skidded around a corner, only to see that the little one had paused to bounce in the main entryway corridor. 

“YAY!” The _jet’ika_ took huge, stomping steps, making the _boom_ ring through the hallway like the whole room was a sound box. 

_Boom. Boom. Boom_.

Each stomp was punctuated by joyful giggles. That kid was having the time of his _life_.

Kree paused to watch. He wasn’t the only one. Some of the other _verd’e_ guarding the hall gave him a wave. His comm clicked over the general frequencies for the morning guard shift.

“Hey, Kree,” Q’aan said from across the room. “Are the _jetiise_ or the _ad’e be'Mand'alor_ on their way?”

It went without saying that they all assumed that someone would be watching the _jet’ika_. The little one’s _buir’e_ and his _vod’e_ watched over him like krayt dragons watching over a clutch of eggs. 

“No one’s come out yet,” Tal said. Good. That meant he was still on watch where he was supposed to be. No sense in letting an enemy slip through while they were distracted.

“That means the little one escaped,” Kree said musingly. 

He wasn’t surprised. Not even a little bit.

They all watched in silence as the stomping continued. The _jet’ika_ had moved on to saying, “Bounce! Bounce! Bounce!” with every stomp. 

“He’s gonna get in trouuuuuble,” P’dari said in a sing-song voice. 

There was some snickering over the line.

They all watched for another minute. It was pretty cute. The _jet’ika_ ’s joy was infectious. 

Tal snorted. “Any minute now, they are gonna come boiling out of the Mereels' rooms like angry phase-wasps.”

That was objectively true. 

None of them moved to stop the little one.

“He’s not really messing anything up, though,” Q’aan said hesitantly.

“And he’s not trying to leave,” P’dari added.

The guards in the hall all exchanged a look.

“We could give him a minute,” Kree said. “We’re here, after all.”

There were nods all around the room as Tal cackled from across the line.

“Ooop, catch him!” Q’aan said.

The little one had started running down the hall like Death Watch was on his heels, headed straight for the door that Q’aan and P’dari were posted at. They both moved to intercept, standing in front of the open passageway with arms out.

This was a tactical error. 

They’d all forgotten the little one was a baby _jetii_ , and thus was _karking insane_. The _adiik_ wasn’t aiming for the door. He was aiming for the pillar that supported the door, now left unguarded since Q’aan had moved towards where she’d _thought_ the little one was going.

The _jet’ika_ jumped, right as he got to the wall, and _ran up it_ as if he could make gravity point sideways somehow. Just before his momentum gave out, he pushed off and twisted in the air, making a grab for the chandelier. 

He missed. _Thank Manda_.

Shit, he _missed_. Which meant that he was _falling_.

“ _Osik_!” Kree wasn’t the only one swearing. 

The little one flailed in midair as he plummeted with an alarmed little, “Whoah!”

Q’aan and P’dari both dashed forward in an attempt to catch the crazy _ad’ika_. They needn’t have bothered. 

With an outflung hand, the little one bounced off of nothing and did a flip in the air, slowing his descent and setting him up for an uncoordinated tumble to the floor several feet away from where Q’aan and P’dari had skidded to a stop.

Kree’s heart pounded in his throat and his chest felt tight. Kids weren’t supposed to fall from that height. He wasn’t a _buir_ , but he knew that much at least. 

The _jet’ika_ rolled to a boneless stop, ending up sitting upright with his legs straight out in front of him. 

“Ow,” he said quietly as he rubbed his head. 

_Shit, shit, shit, shit_. 

Before Kree could call for a medic, the child had already bounced back up to standing, and was tearing back down the hall in the other direction, spouting peals of laughter as he went.

“Oh, sweet _Manda_ ,” Q’aan groaned across the comms. 

“That’s just… What the kark,” P’dari added. 

“The hell is all the chatter for?” Darist piped up from wherever the hell she was. 

“The _jet’ika_ staged a break out and is currently enjoying his new found freedom by giving us all heart attacks,” Kree said with biting sarcasm. Clearly, someone else on the morning guard shift’s frequency had let their _ver’alor_ know that something was up.

“Did you know _jet’ike_ could run up walls? Because I didn’t, and I am alarmed,” P’dari chimed in.

Tal cackled across the comms. The bastard. He was free and clear watching the _Mand’alor_ ’s wing still. 

Which reminded him…

“Hey, Tal. Have the Mereels figured out they are missing someone?” Kree asked.

“Since the hall is still free of pissed off _verd’ike_ , I’m guessing not.” Amusement was evident in Tal’s voice.

The _jet’ika_ took another running leap off of a wall. Thankfully, this time he didn’t seem to be aiming for the light fixtures. He just somersaulted in the air and rolled out of his fall with more grace than Kree would have expected from a five year old. 

“Weeeeeeeeee! Again, again, again!!” 

And then the _jet’ika_ was hauling ass towards the other end of the hall and another wall. Shit, he was fast for a little guy. 

“Is there a reason you haven’t told the _Mand’alor_ what’s up?” Darist asked pointedly, though Kree could hear a hint of amusement in her voice, too.

“Transmitting live HUD footage now, _ver’alor_ ,” Q’aan said.

They all watched the _jet’ika_ run back and forth, clearly having the time of his life and making an _unholy_ amount of racket doing so. A few more _verd’e_ poked their helmets into the hall to see what the fuss was.

“It’s adorable,” P’dari muttered reluctantly. “But I swear, every time he takes a fall I about lose my mind.”

“ _Ka’ra_ , please don’t let this get around to our _ad’ike_ ,” Bo-mir said.

“They’ll all try to copy it, and break their bloody necks,” Tal said grimly. The HUD footage must already be floating around.

“No kriffing wonder those _jetiise_ keep _jaig_ eyes on their little one, if this is what he’s like,” Kree said with a shake of his head. 

The _adiik_ was having fun, and it was clear that he wasn’t actually damaging himself. Nor was he damaging anything in the hall. There wasn’t really any reason to break up the fun. Surely the little one’s _vod’e_ would be along to do that soon enough. 

It was weirdly stressful to watch, though. 

“Kark, can you imagine a whole class full of _jet’ike_ doing this?” Kree asked, not really expecting an answer.

From the soft sounds of swearing across the comms, yup, everyone could. 

\--- POV: Jaster Mereel ---

_“It’s so seldom that we get a chance to show off like that.”_

Kark, were those _jetiise_ trying to kill him?

Jaster ran a hand through his hair as he stalked down the hall. He had to admire the sheer _mando’kar’la_ nature of that kind of statement. Yan was more than a kriffing tease, he was a karking _terror_. Saying that kind of thing in front of other people, knowing that no one but Jaster and Sy would catch his double meaning. 

All thoughts of _Yan and Sy showing off_ were quickly derailed as he noticed one of the guards was missing from the end of the hall.

His hand went to his blaster and he ran the rest of the way.

“Report,” he snapped out as soon as he was in range.

“All clear, _Mand’alor_ ,” Tal said, holding up one hand in an _at ease_ gesture. “Kree is just keeping an eye on the _jet’ika_.”

_Obi-Wan?_

“What?” Jaster looked back towards the rooms he’d come from, half expecting the _vod’e_ to already be hard on his heels, hell bent for leather. 

But there was nothing.

Nothing from their rooms, anyways. There _was_ the faint sound of booming echoing along the walls, coming from the main entrance.

Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach.

“Everything is fine, _Mand’alor_ ,” Tal continued. “The _jet’ika_ ran by here a few minutes ago. Kree followed him. He and some of the other Headhunters are watching the little one.”

Jaster took a slow breath and let some of his worry dissipate. 

“ _Vor'e_ , Tal,” he said, clapping the _verd_ on the shoulder. “Which way?”

“Main hall,” Tal said, pointing. “Apparently, the _jet’ika_ is having himself a fine time running back and forth and making the hall echo.”

Jaster shared a short snort of amusement with Tal, and then he nodded his thanks.

 _Better go collect him before anything worse happens_.

While Tal’s information on where Obi-Wan had run off to was appreciated, it wasn’t really necessary. All Jaster had to do was follow the thumping and the sound of a toddler laughing hysterically. 

He probably needn’t have worried at all. The main hall had attracted more than its usual share of _verd’e_ , all watching with obvious amusement. They were all in full _beskar’gam_ , but Jaster had spent all of his life around fully armoured people. He could read the tilt of their helms and the shift of their weight on their feet. His people were entertained. 

“JUMP!” Obi-Wan shouted with glee as he _jumped off the karking wall_. How the sith-hells the little one had gotten ten feet up the wall to begin with, Jaster had no idea. He about lost his mind when he saw the kid heading straight for the floor, though.

Before he could really panic, Obi-Wan held out a hand towards the floor, slowing his descent with his _jetii osik_ banthashit powers. He fell into a mostly-controlled tumble at the end, and bounced up to standing before he’d even really come to a full stop. 

Then he was off and running down the hall, breathlessly giggling.

Kree ghosted up next to Jaster.

“The cavalry coming yet?” Kree asked.

Right. Because of course his _verd'e_ would assume the _verd’ike_ were going to show up any minute. 

Or they _would_ , if they’d realized that Obi-Wan was gone. Obviously they hadn’t, yet. The verbal sparring between Ben, Sy, and Yan had been too distracting. 

“As much as I am gonna miss the little one, I’m sort of happy he’s got a whole karking temple of _jetiise_ keeping an eye on him at home,” Jaster muttered.

Kree barked out a laugh. “Better them than us, eh?”

Obi-Wan executed another wall leap. Apparently, he’d gotten up so high by running up the side of the kriffing wall. Because, of course. 

Kark, no wonder the _vod’e_ worried so much. 

Jaster shook his head and moved to intercept the _jet’ika_ on his next run down the hall.

Obi-Wan tried to swerve around him.

“Nope!” Jaster said, plucking him up from the floor as he ran by.

“Awwwwwwww, _Mand’alor_!” Obi-Wan pouted at him. Or he tried to, anyways. He was red in the face and panting from all the running. It made for an ineffective pout.

“Come on, you,” Jaster said, hauling the child around so he was carrying him under one arm like a sack of flour. “I’m sure that was fun, but you’re gonna worry your _buir’e_ and your _vod’e_.”

Obi-Wan squirmed in place, very ineffectually, while protesting quietly in between huffed breaths. 

Jaster didn’t need to have his _buy’ce_ on and his comms open to know that his _verd’e_ were laughing inside their helmets. 

“Do they know you’re gone?” Jaster asked, starting to walk and feeling Kree fall in behind him. A few other _verd'e_ followed.

“Nope! They’re busy talkin’ ‘bout boring stuff. But it’s fine! I’m not in trouble!” Obi-Wan squirmed around to look up towards Jaster with wide, entreating eyes.

Jaster snorted. “How do you figure that, _ad’ika_?”

“‘Cause Ben only made me promise not t’ sneak out at _night time_ ‘nd it’s not _night time_ otherwise we’d be in _bed_.” Obi-Wan pointed at a window, and presumably the sunlight pouring through it. 

Kriff, this kid and his loopholes. 

“I’m pretty sure that there is still a rule against wandering off on your own.” Jaster raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sure, at the _Temple_.” Obi-Wan gave him this half roll of his eyes and a dismissive shrug. 

Kree was holding his side, visibly shaking with laughter. He was not the only one.

Jaster sighed. 

“Here, too, _ad’ika_. Yes, even if the Headhunters are watching the halls,” he said, before Obi-Wan could use that loophole. “Though I am very happy that you stayed in sight of the guards, at least.”

“That’s important,” Obi-Wan said with a solemn nod. As solemn as he could be, hanging as he was from Jaster’s hold.

“Yes, it is. The palace here was attacked a few weeks before your visit. We think that it won’t happen again, but it might, so we need to be careful. How would your _vod’e_ feel if you got hurt while you were out wandering alone?” Jaster asked.

“Oh. They’d be so sad.” Obi-Wan drooped like a wet loth-cat. 

“Yes. So don’t do that. Tell one of us when you want to go exploring.”

Obi-Wan sighed like the life was being dragged out of him. “Yes, _Mand’alor_.”

Jaster paused at the door leading out of the great hall. 

He had said that he was checking on their food. And it would be a shame to kill everyone’s good mood with the ensuing panic over their slippery _ad’ika_ running off. 

Jaster mulled it over for a moment, and then nodded. “Come on. We’re gonna go collect our meal and help the servants bring it to the suite. If we’re quick, your _vod’e_ won’t even notice you were gone.”

“Oh!” That perked Obi-Wan right up. 

They walked for a moment or two, and then Obi-Wan asked, “Are you gonna carry me the whole way?”

Kree’s shoulders shook with laughter.

“What? And set you down only to have you disappear again? Pfft, no.” Jaster rolled his eyes. Kark, but he knew better than that. Not that he thought Obi-Wan would try to make an escape, especially not with Jaster and several of his _verd’e_ around.

Then again, he’d thought that Obi-Wan would have more sense than to jump into the ring at _Buir_ Az’okk’s too, and he'd been wrong then. Better to not take the chance. One escape attempt per morning was all he was allowing. 

Obi-Wan mulled this over, and then started twisting in place.

“Hey!” Jaster paused to get a better grip on the _jet’ika_. “Hold still!”

“No, I wanna get up. I’m gonna climb on your back,” Obi-Wan said, still squirming. 

Jaster swore under his breath. The little one was hard to hold on to.

“Ack-- Hey, watch it-- No, not the belt, here put your foot _here_ , kark, you’re gonna step on a grenade and blow us all up…” 

With Jaster’s reluctant help, Obi-Wan got settled on Jaster’s back, with his arms around Jaster’s neck and his feet sitting securely on Jaster’s belt pouches. 

“Finally.” Jaster breathed a sigh of relief. Only to look over and see his _verd’e_ staring at him.

_Kark, they’re recording this._

Jaster sighed again. Maybe he could get a copy of the footage to bribe his _ad’ike_ with. 

“Alright, let’s go get our meal.”

“Hooray! Food!” Obi-Wan crowed happily. 

Jaster smothered a smile. Yeah. He was going to miss the little one.

\--- POV: Plo Koon ---

Plo was in the middle of meditation when his comm went off. Normally, he would have ignored it, but something in the Force tugged at him and prompted him to answer. 

Even though he was in his own quarters, he took a moment to affix his antitox ventilator. It helped project his voice in a way that baseline humans found easy to understand. 

As a High Councilor, Plo could expect the occasional random comm. He wasn’t expecting it to be from Ben Kenobi. Yes, he’d offered his aid to the young master if he’d ever needed it, but Ben had struck Plo as a supremely self-sufficient person. 

Whatever he was comming about had to be important.

“Greetings, Ben,” Plo said with a small bow the moment the holo popped up. 

He noted that Ben’s image looked no worse for wear, which was a small relief. It was hard to tell given the limits of holo technology, but there were no obvious wounds or blaster damage.

“Master Plo.” Ben greeted him with a bow. “Thank you for making time to speak with me.”

Plo waved a dismissive hand. “It is no trouble. What can I do for you?”

Ben pursed his lips as he visibly hesitated. “Would you-- I mean to say, do you have some time to just sit and talk?”

He glanced nervously to the side, and Plo had to wonder if Ben was making this comm alone or if his _vod’e_ were watching. 

“I have as much time as you need,” Plo answered gravely. His heart clenched a little with worry and hope. Worry, because there was so much involving Ben and his situation that was concerning. Hope, because it was such a good sign that Ben was reaching out to talk to _someone_.

There was a moment of silence as Ben settled himself in his seat.

“Would you like to brew yourself some tea to drink while we talk?” Plo asked. In his brief time on Mandalore, he’d noticed how much Ben relished tea.

Ben looked at him with mild surprise, and then rueful pleasure. “Yes, that seems like a wise idea.” He let out a breathy laugh. “I have given my own padawan similar advice. Sometimes speaking is easier with a warm cup of tea in hand.”

Plo nodded and his tusks twitched with pleasure. 

“Just a moment,” Ben said, standing up.

“I will be here.”

For as long as he was needed. His other engagements for the day could be postponed.

Ben disappeared from the holo projection. Not more than two minutes later, he returned with a steaming cup. A little golden ball floated in the liquid. Ben poked at it idly as he settled himself again.

Plo waited for Ben to work up his nerve to talk about whatever was bothering him. Clearly, it was a personal issue. Such hesitance would likely be absent if Ben had military or political concerns. 

“Are you familiar with the statement that the greatest gift a Jedi can give is his life?” Ben finally asked.

Plo took a moment to consider the matter before answering.

“I am.”

“What do you think it means?” Ben finally tore his eyes away from his tea and looked up at Plo with a desperate sort of intensity.

“It has many meanings,” Plo answered. He tilted his head in amusement when Ben gave him a flat look. “Like many of our proverbs do.” After another moment of thought, he added, “If it would save lives, I would willingly give up my own. By the same token, I also spend the time I have alive in service to the Light. Which, truly, is the greater gift? I cannot say. Perhaps no mortal can. The ripple effect of our actions is so often beyond us, even for those strong in the Unifying Force.”

Ben’s expression went from annoyed to pensive. 

“Something has caused you to question this,” Plo stated in hopes that it would prod Ben into further discussing his issue.

To his relief, Ben nodded and said, “Yes. Though I was trained as a consular, I have spent most of my career as a knight and then as a master in and out of combat situations. I have always prioritized others' lives ahead of my own. As a Jedi, that is our _job_. We _must_ save others as and where we can.”

He winced and stirred his tea. 

“Last night, Master Dooku said something that-- He brought up the point that a lifetime of service would be more valuable than an untimely death. That the greater good would be served better by years of helping people rather than dying to save a few.”

Plo nodded. That was something he would expect from Master Dooku.

While Master Dooku was certainly an excellent Jedi, he tended towards cold calculation more than other knights. It was an asset as much as it was a concern. Master Dooku would always determine which course of action would gain the best results and pursue it, even if the action chosen would result in short term hardship, for himself or others. If saving the lives of a handful of sentients meant the loss of hundreds more, Master Dooku would choose the hundreds over the handful. 

It was an ethical dilemma that every Jedi in the field faced. One of the reasons that Master Dooku was so devastatingly effective as a guardian was because he would make those split second decisions and pursue them with all the vigor required to succeed. 

Upon review, Master Dooku’s choices during missions had always been deemed appropriate. Still… that sort of behavior bordered on ruthlessness, which set uneasily with other Jedi. Plo had occasionally wondered -- especially after their shared time on the Death Watch campaign -- if Master Dooku had regrets after the fact. Did he agonize over his own decisions in hindsight, as Plo might?

The two of them were not socially close enough for Plo to know. Perhaps only Master Sifo-Dyas was. 

“Both interpretations are correct,” Plo said thoughtfully. “All knights, especially guardians, put their lives on the line for the health and welfare of others. Just as it is also true that we Jedi serve the galaxy as a whole, settling troubles between disparate peoples, helping those who are unable to help themselves, and otherwise bringing Light to the dim reaches of inhabited space. Both are noble callings.”

Ben let out a small, frustrated noise. “Yes, I know.” 

He furrowed his brow and busied himself for a moment setting his tea to rights. Plo waited patiently. Such conversations should not be rushed.

“Where is the line?” Ben asked. “How do we choose which lives are more important? And _should_ our lives even be on that scale?”

“I would say that a Jedi should value all lives, our own included,” Plo answered easily. “Reality is not often so simple, though, and most knights gladly give up their own lives for others. However… Not all do. Sometimes that is because the knight in question is aware that they have a greater mission. Certainly, a Shadow who has been undercover for years would hesitate to blow that cover for the sake of one life, no matter how much it might grieve them to witness its loss. Sometimes it is simply because they have weighed the odds and decided that the greater good lies in them staying alive. The unfortunate truth is that we do not have the resources to help with every problem. Even if we want to.”

Ben grimaced.

The argument was circular. Plo shifted in his seat and tapped his claws together while he sought a way to reframe the problem.

“I think that you already know where that line is for yourself,” Plo said. “You would not have reached mastery without that inner knowledge.”

“But what if I was wrong?” Ben asked quietly. His voice took on a wounded quality, and Plo didn’t need to be in the same room to hear the _what if_ ’s and _might have been_ ’s. “My master told me that it was my willingness to die for others that made me a Jedi, that my selflessness was enough to outweigh my many other failings.” 

Those words chilled Plo to the bone. Oh, how easily one of their core tenets could be twisted into something unrecognizable with _that_ line of logic. 

The words tumbled out of Ben. “Over and over again, he was proven right. I have been brash, attached, and angry. Temperamental and stubborn. Through all of my many mistakes, it was my unwavering desire to shield others from harm that has seen me through my doubts and has persuaded others to give me leniency after my many blunders.”

Ben’s agitation was so great that he wrung his hands around his cup. Plo was not far from that sort of fidgeting himself. This was part of what Master Dooku had warned him about; that Ben’s disregard for himself bordered on self-harm. It seemed that Master Dooku had taken it upon himself to offer some guidance in that area, and here was the result. 

Thank the Force that Ben had felt comfortable enough to comm. Anyone other than a Jedi -- a master, at least -- would be unable to field such a question properly, and would likely only frustrate Ben. As much as the Mandalorians might want to help, they wouldn’t have the proper perspective. More important still was the fact that Ben had _trusted_ Plo enough to reach out to speak about the terrible events that helped shape him.

Plo waited a moment to see if Ben would continue. When nothing else was forthcoming, he said, “Think again on what you have just told me. It is your unwavering desire to shield others from harm that has been your guiding light. Shielding others from harm is a very different sentiment from willfully putting yourself in harm’s way. That is a key difference. The end result may look the same on the outside, but for us, the motivation is important.”

That made Ben look at Plo in mild surprise. 

“What is it that drives your actions, Ben?” Plo asked. “Is it the selfless desire to help others? Or the selfish desire to take on a punishment that you feel you deserve? Or both? Or _neither_? Sentients are complicated creatures, even Jedi, and our motivations change and shift with time and circumstance. I think that if you meditate on your past experiences, your reasoning will become clear.”

Now, it was clear that Ben was starting to _think_ about his situation rather than just react to the fear of failure. He’d straightened in his seat, but his posture was significantly less tense. His eyebrows were furrowed in thought.

Another thought occurred to Plo. “Do you count yourself as equally worthy of safety and comfort as those you are trying to protect?” he asked. “A Jedi might strive to be selfless, but that does not mean that we do not also deserve to have our needs met.”

That made Ben flinch, just a tiny bit. A hit, then. That grieved Plo very much. Oh, what had this little master gone through, to give him _that_ kind of an attitude?

It was good that Ben was even thinking about the subject. That was a step in the right direction. Plo had to keep that in mind.

Ben mulled that over and sipped his tea. “I… don’t _think_ that I have been prioritising others over myself to quite that extent.” 

The small wince on his face suggested that this wasn’t a totally true statement. Plo absolutely didn’t not bring that discrepancy up. He was not here to take Ben to task, and any mention of the possible falsehood would have the youngling retreating posthaste. 

Just as he now needed to give Ben some encouragement.

“And Ben… it is alright if you haven’t behaved perfectly for every moment of your life. That is impossible, and you are not lesser in any way for failing to reach that standard,” Plo added gently.

Ben shook Plo’s statement off.

“Let’s suppose that I have been acting utterly selflessly, with only the best of intentions,” Ben said, leaning in as if he were a hunter who’d just caught sight of his prey. “What serves the Light more? A live Jedi, who can serve the galaxy all of their life, or the death of a Jedi to save lives in the here and now?”

“I cannot answer that. No one can. You must trust the Force to tell you what is needful at the time.”

And that was the crux of the matter. There was no ‘right’ answer to the ethical dilemma. Fortunately, the Jedi had the Force to guide them.

“Release your fear and frustration, and listen to the Force,” Plo advised. “It will guide you.”

Ben nodded and then smiled ruefully. 

“I feel like this is a lesson I already learned, years ago, and yet I am just now remembering that fact.”

Plo’s tusks twitched in amusement and he tilted his head in an affectionate manner. “We all learn and relearn the same wisdom throughout our lives, filtered through a new lens each time. It is when we stop learning, stop questioning, that we stagnate and are in danger of Falling, for that breeds overconfidence and arrogance.”

Another measure of tension fled from Ben’s body, and he smiled at Plo, warm and easy. 

“Thank you, Master Plo,” he said with a bow of his head. “You have given me much to think on.”

“I am pleased that I was able to give you some measure of guidance, Ben,” Plo said, feeling pleased. “Whatever titles we hold and wherever we are in the galaxy, we are followers of the Light, and that alone means that we are kin. Next time, it may be that I am in need of guidance from you,” he added, perhaps a little cheekily. 

It earned him a small laugh. “Perhaps, Master Plo. Regardless, thank you again.”

Ben set down his cup of tea and bowed.

Plo returned the gesture. “Meditate on it, youngling, and remember. No matter what conclusion you come to, _I_ believe that you have done your best to do right, and that the galaxy is a brighter place for your efforts.” Before the youngling could get embarrassed, Plo waved a claw at him in dismissal. “Say hi to your _vod’e_ for me.”

“I will,” Ben said with a smile.

Then the holo flickered out. 

Plo stayed in his chair and ran their conversation through his head again. 

So far, if Master Dooku or Master Sifo-Dyas had discovered the identity of Ben’s former master, neither had mentioned it. That meant that targeted action to remedy that situation couldn’t be taken just yet.

But Plo had other plans. He _did not_ like the things he’d heard about how dangerous Ben’s padawanship had been and the casual disregard for his life and happiness that he’d apparently found on all fronts. 

If that sort of thing had happened to Ben, who was to say that it wouldn’t happen, or hadn’t already happened, to others? With that thought in mind, Plo had already begun discussions with some of the other High Councilors about how to remedy the situation. 

Master Zir was openly enthusiastic about the possibility of more knights to help with the crèches, not as teachers, but as general aids. The idea was to give the younglings a stronger adult support network; beings that were actually _assigned_ just to help the younglings along in their day to day life, and not just there to teach them a specific skill. And if those knights all got a dose of counselling training before that, then all to the good. 

Plo also had some ideas about programs for joint missions between master and padawan pairs. These happened occasionally already; Plo would see them become the norm rather than the exception. Their padawan learners were precious, and while they did need to have experience in the wider galaxy, they also needed to be protected as much as possible while gaining that experience. 

Or, perhaps, it might be wise to pair young knights with master-padawan pairs. Let the knight take lead on the mission with the master offering guidance to the knight while also instructing the padawan. 

There were a lot of options and it would take time to properly consider them all. It was possible that the Council of Reassignment may have additional ideas. Plo resolved to speak with them, and the other specialized Councils as well. They were stronger when they worked together, and the Order as a whole would do well to remember that.

He already knew that he’d get arguments from some of the other High Councilors on this possible reallocation of personnel. The Order was perpetually stretched thin, with too many requests for their assistance and not enough knights to go around. A reorganization with an emphasis on searching for new initiates, as well as training new padawans rather than allowing current initiates to age out and be sent off to the Service Corps could be a useful way to eventually relieve some of their population issues. That, however, would inevitably cause a short term decrease in the number of knights they could field to answer the current demands of the Senate.

Which brought the matter around to the problem of those demands. The Senate asked much of them, and currently the Order was bound by law to obey. In her investigation, Master Gallia had found some disturbing trends in the last few decades, centered around those missions.

More and more often, the Senate had sent knights into uncertain situations with instructions that were founded on faulty or misleading intelligence that had resulted in the needless loss of life, be it of the locals involved or the knights assigned the mission. 

Master Dooku’s mission on Korda VI was only the tip of the iceberg. 

The Jedi Order upheld the Republic. This had been their duty since the Old Republic had fallen and the current Republic had taken its place. That duty was more than just part of the Order’s belief system, it was _law_. If the Senate ordered the Jedi to do something, they would have to obey.

Even with those binding laws, the Jedi Order still had some leeway in how they operated, however. 

Plo thought that perhaps it was long since time that the Order started investigating their options. He didn’t think that a full break from the Senate was possible, or even necessary, but _something_ had to be done. 

Ben came from a future where the Jedi were generals in a galaxy-wide war. Plo had put a great deal of thought into it, and the most logical way for that to have happened would be if the Senate ordered them into that position.

Taking on that sort of role -- and the associated level of responsibility for the lives under one's care that came with it -- could very quickly become very dangerous for a Jedi. Caring too much and becoming attached to one's troops had the potential to drive one to despair. Caring too little would rapidly lead to corruption or a Fall. 

And, possibly worst of all, the Jedi were not trained in the arts of war. They were peacekeepers, trained in defense, mediation, and rescue. They had no real knowledge of large scale tactics. That had disappeared along with their fleet of gunships after the Ruusan Reformation. Perhaps there were a few references in the archives that could be dusted off. He would have to speak to Madame Nu about it if he could come up with a good excuse to do such research. Perhaps he could take advantage of Ben and his tale of time travel.

But all of that presupposed that what Ben had experienced could not be avoided.

Granted, it was very possible that nothing they could do would avert that eventuality. That there was no way the Jedi Order could stay out of the fighting. But Plo was determined to give them as many options as possible before that happened. 

Ben had said that his war wouldn’t start for many years yet. There was no guarantee, but... Plo hoped it would be enough time.


	53. Chapter 53

\--- POV: Wooley Mereel ---

Waxer was off doing his punishment with Masters Sifo-Dyas and Dooku. The General had decided to follow him into that rancor's den, though, and the Cadet had decided to keep their _vod_ company in place of doing his morning lessons. Which was apparently acceptable to his masters, since Waxer was going to be meditating -- or at least attempting to -- for the whole time he was there.

The fact that Kenobi was there to watch over their _jare'la vod_ was reassuring, though.

The rest of his _vod'e_ had dutifully trooped off to Ardanna's domain with him, as had become their habit on the days that they didn't have other duties. Wooley was always pleased to have them join in. The discussions they often got into with Ardanna tended to be very entertaining and informative.

This time, when they entered the space, Darist was there, seated with Ardanna at the main workbench and talking to the armourer about their trip to _Buir_ Az'okk's as Ardanna inspected a vambrace, her tools spread out on the workbench beside her elbow.

"-- part of the most karking _mandokar'la_ display that place has seen in years," Darist was saying, looking up to meet their eyes with a smirk. "And so of course they would appear on cue."

Ardanna huffed, clearly amused. " _K'olar, verd'ike_ ," she requested, "come tell me of your successes. Clearly there were some."

Grinning back at his teacher and feeling the network fill with amusement, Wooley picked out the seat next to Darist before he started filling in the gaps in Darist's story. Every so often one of his _vod'e_ would interject, adding a detail here or a quip there. Ardanna laughed delightedly at the tale of Waxer and Boil's very effective swindling of most of the _verd'e_ in the restaurant, and all but rolled her eyes at the very mention of Mariik's name. The poisoning attempt made her scowl darkly and pinch at the bridge of her nose, but Darist's quick summary of what had been done about it got her to calm again. The story of their _buir_ 's spar against Master Dooku made the clan armourer shake her head in mock-dismay.

"You had quite an eventful meal, then," Ardanna concluded. "It is good to hear that enough of our people still honour the old ways well enough to respond so promptly to a base attempt to kill the _Mand'alor_ 's allies. And," she paused to smirk, "that you found a way to show your own worthiness so effectively. Does Jango bear as many battle wounds as you do, little Commander?"

Commander Cody briefly looked and felt like he wanted to make a face at that nickname, but didn't give in to the urge. "Probably more," he admitted. "I bruised him up pretty good."

"If he stepped into the ring with you, he accepted that risk," Ardanna pointed out.

Helix cleared his throat, asking for her attention and theirs, then waited until he had it. "Ardanna," he said, "Darist. You've both known _buir_ a lot longer than we have. Does he... well, have liaisons often?"

Clearly caught off guard, the two _verd'e_ exchanged startled looks and hesitated for a moment. Wooley bit down on a snicker.

"Why are you asking us and not him, _ad'ika_?" Darist asked him. Her expression was more or less calm, neutral, but he could tell she was thinking about something that made her dismayed-uneasy.

And she was avoiding the question.

Helix shrugged. "It seemed smarter to go to another reliable source before attempting that. Depending on your answer, we might not even need to ask him our questions."

"Hmm." Ardanna considered him. "Very well, _verd'ika_. I will answer that, if you answer one of the questions I have about you and your _vod'e_."

"What is your question?" Helix didn't back down.

Darist carefully kept silent, but they could all tell she was listening carefully. Curious and intent.

"You all act far older than you appear and know things that I would not expect even a _verd_ your age who was trained far too young to know. Things that," she eyed Boil as she spoke, "only a more mature _ad_ should be acquainted with."

Their medic, showing his balls of cortosis, simply shrugged. "That isn't a question, Ardanna." 

Clearly pleased by the display of courage and confidence, Ardanna smiled, showing lots of teeth. "Who was it that taught you these things and where can I find them, _verd'ika_?"

Oh Force.

Wooley had no idea how they could even begin to answer that question without causing themselves even more trouble. It was obvious that Ardanna had picked up on the fact that they weren't what they seemed, and, if she had, it was likely she wasn't the only one to have done so.

Shame the General wasn't here.

Wait.

"Ardanna," Wooley interceded while Helix thought through his own answer, "that's something we'd prefer to discuss with the General and Waxer present. It directly concerns them, too."

After exchanging a look, a few touches in the network, and a few discreet hand signs with Commander Cody, Helix nodded, backing him up. "You don't need to worry about the _shabuir'e_ in our pasts, in any case," he added, smiling back up at Ardanna with an expression just as fierce as hers, "if and when they become an issue, I'm fairly sure the General and the Commander -- and the rest of us -- will either deal with them directly or give you all the information you need. Perhaps both."

It was clear neither of the _verd'e_ liked that answer, but they accepted it.

Taking a breath, and letting it out slowly, Darist said, "How likely do you think it is that they'll come after you? Is this a risk?"

Commander Cody scoffed and decided to weigh in, himself. "We're _ad'e be'Mand'alor_ , Darist. That, in and of itself, means we're at risk," he pointed out. "Crys and Longshot were taken simply because of their association with him. The-- the beings that created us and raised us? They have no idea we're here. It shouldn't be an issue for years, if at all, as long as we don't go out and draw the wrong kind of attention."

Ardanna raised an eyebrow at him. "By that kind of logic," she parried, " _any_ attention is the wrong kind."

The Commander shrugged. "I can't tell you more without discussing it with the General," he said simply, firm and resolute. "There are... complex reasons behind our silence. Not just our own safety, but also certain trusts we cannot break and risks we prefer to avoid unless we have no other choice but to take them. I would prefer to have more allies than we do at the moment, and the two of you are frankly at the top of my list of people to inform, but we have to be cautious, which means limiting the number of people we tell. The biggest risk isn't in those we bring in on this, but in those _they_ talk to."

Darist swore. " _Secrets_ ," she spat, "have a way of biting you in the _shebs_ , _alor'ika_. Remember that."

Wooley sighed. "We know, Darist, and if it weren't far more than just our lives and the General's on the line, in a very literal sense..."

Ardanna went still. "You think someone would dare attack Mandalore?"

Wooley gave her a sardonic look. " _Kyr'tsad_ already has. Repeatedly. Does anyone know why? Sure, Vizsla wants _buir_ out of the picture. But what's his motive? Conquest is messy and expensive. Why does he want that? Is someone else behind his need to bring back that kind of _glory_?" He heard the sneer in his own voice, felt the sentiment echoed by his _vod'e_.

Commander Cody took over, picking up the thread seamlessly. "Large scale battle isn't glorious. It's also only rarely worth the losses, and the kind of war Vizsla advocates is the worst kind of waste of manpower and resources. And then there was that mess on Korda VI, which was probably orchestrated by someone in the Senate, though we can't prove it. And, if that's the case, we've got to be on our guard for another attempt. Politics is cutthroat, and if someone in the Republic wants to get rid of _buir_ so that they can weaken Mandalore through more infighting? They'll try again. And again, and again, and _again_. Sith-hells, maybe that attempt to poison Master Dooku was another such incident, and we just haven't found out yet. Maybe this person -- or faction -- in the Republic is also behind _Kyr'tsad_ 's attacks. If we tell the wrong person about our origins and it gets out? It'd be one more way for outsiders to try to take advantage of our _buir_. You saw how Jinn's kriffing padawan was picking at us. Do you really think the rest of the galaxy will be any less curious? Until we're of an age where us fighting back won't get _buir_ in trouble with those like you, who see us as _ad'ike_ too young for a battlefield despite our training and skills, we're effectively a weakness that can be exploited."

This time Darist went still. "For all our sakes, I hope you're wrong about that."

"We do too," the Commander replied and ran one hand through his hair. "But we can't take the risk. Not yet."

Scrubbing at her own face with her hands, Darist groaned. "You know, this is _not_ a direction I expected this conversation to go in."

Boil piped up. "For what it's worth, we didn't either."

"We were just curious about what we should expect from _buir_ ," Crys added. "We can't keep him safe if we don't know that side of him, as well, and I doubt he'd tell us. At least not yet."

With a shake of her head, Ardanna picked up the tools she'd put down for her conversation with Darist, poking at the vambrace in front of her, seemingly idly. "I suppose you've answered my question insofar as you are able, without the presence of your absent _vod'e_ ," she said, her lingering frustration -- clearly born of her protectiveness towards them -- audible. "But I will preface my answer with this: your _buir_ is entirely capable of choosing his liaisons carefully, and also does so. He will not appreciate your interference in that sphere of his life. If you should happen to find out that one of them intends to cause trouble, be cautious in how you approach the issue."

Helix nodded. "Of course, Ardanna. It's not our intent to try to control him or make choices for him. But we don't want him getting hurt needlessly, either."

Darist made a slightly pained sound. "It should be us doing that for you, _verd'ike_."

Wooley felt the renewed amusement ringing through their bonds. "We know you feel that way, but we're not used to having that. We've always been the protectors of others. It's who we are, what we were meant to be." 

That surprised both of the _verd'e_. He could tell, despite their good sabacc faces.

"So, he _does_ have liaisons from time to time," Crys prompted them, yanking everyone back on topic.

Darist exchanged another look with Ardanna, and Wooley would have sworn they were having a silent conversation with their faces, before she answered. "Yeah, he does. From time to time. But his flings never last long. Usually they're one-offs, and he's been a bit more circumspect about it since he got elected _Mand'alor_." 

"Mereel isn't looking for a _riduur, verd'ike_ ," Ardanna picked up the thread seamlessly, pointing at the Commander with the wiring that had stayed in her hand, forgotten, throughout their discussion. "You don't need to worry about that."

Her expression clearly telegraphing her amusement and sheer resignation, Darist agreed, "He's _definitely_ not interested in anything long term. Not now, and maybe not ever. Especially now that he's got the seven of you to pass on his name."

Wooley considered that. It was good intel, but also very much not what they'd been fishing for.

Seeing their lack of reaction as something else entirely, Ardanna added, "He won't let anyone bother you, either."

Commander Cody nodded. "We know. That was never in question."

"Then why did you want to know?" Darist demanded, raising an eyebrow at him.

Wooley exchanged a look with his _vod'e_ , feeling their lingering curiosity and amusement and glee. Boil and Crys were grinning broadly, anticipating some good gossip and potential mayhem to go along with this intel.

"Well," Helix said, taking the lead, "we just need to know -- for those times when he _does_ decide to pursue that sort of thing -- what we should expect. Behaviour-wise."

"Just to be clear," Ardanna asked them as Darist's expression started to veer away from worry towards glee, "you're asking us what Mereel acts like when he's interested in someone."

Boil turned his grin on her. "Exactly."

Darist, pinched the bridge of her nose even as she started helplessly laughing. "I should have expected something like this," she said, a half-serious grumble underscoring her words. " _Ka'ra_. You seven are nosier than my Headhunters, _verd'ike_."

"So what does he do differently?" Longshot asked, speaking up at last. "Does he get flustered easily?"

Darist all but choked on her own spit. " _Flustered_?"

"What happened to get Mereel flustered?" Ardanna asked, looking _incredibly_ curious.

Wooley chalked it up to her position as Clan Armourer and Chief Gossip. "We'll take that as a no," he answered, as Boil and Crys cackled gleefully behind him. "He all but fled halfway through firstmeal, looking like he needed a moment to get himself together. No obvious reason for it."

"He what." Darist looked like she wanted to turn him upside down and shake him until more information came out.

Ardanna wasn't much better. "What was the conversation about, Apprentice?"

Shrugging, Wooley summarised it. "Nothing out of the ordinary. A few comments about the weapons demonstrations and sparring matches they took part in. Then the General and Master Sifo-Dyas started making pointed comments at each other about sleeping well."

Boil added, "But we definitely saw just how ... _appreciative_ our _buir_ was of the _jetiise_. So we didn't know what to think of that reaction."

"It seemed like an _overreaction_ to us," Longshot put in. " _Buir_ is usually so cool-headed by _mando'ad_ standards."

" _Verd'ike_ , more than half the _verd'e_ at _Buir_ Az'okk's were _appreciative_ of the _jetiise_ ," Darist pointed out. "But you have a point. He was definitely very interested."

Commander Cody made a slightly pained sound. "Oh, we know he wasn't the only one. That _verd_ of _ori'vod_ 's, Wen, made a karking big impression."

Snickering, Ardanna rejoined the discussion. "That's typical of Wen. He likes to flirt, but he never does it with intent unless someone takes him seriously."

"Noted," Helix said, and Wooley could see that both Ardanna and Darist took that as the very serious declaration that it was. "That lines up with the impression I got, myself."

Turning back to Ardanna, Darist smirked. "Mereel was definitely watching them both like he was tempted to invite them to spend the night. The _verd'ike_ aren't wrong."

"The _jetiise_ were definitely flirting back," Wooley put in. "At latemeal, anyway. What they were doing earlier this rotation..."

"Yeah, I wouldn't count that as flirting, either." Boil chimed in with a nod. "There was nothing there. Just a couple of rehashed compliments about their battle prowess."

That got them an incredulous look from Darist. "The _jetiise_ were acting completely casual all through latemeal," she said skeptically.

"It was really subtle," Crys replied. "But we're pretty sure they were."

"Hm. Interesting." Ardanna murmured, as if to herself.

"You know," Darist suggested with a devilish smirk, "you could also ask Jango about this. He's dealt with Mereel's bedhopping for several years now."

That idea sent waves of _what the kriff_ and _Force's sake_ and _great plan_ through the network, and Wooley laughed outright, imagining the look on _ori'vod_ 's face.

It also got Kenobi to poke at them. A sense of _do I even want to know?_ filtered through to them from behind Kenobi's shields, and prompted more snickering.

Wooley reached out to the General across the bond they'd forged, and then it was like Kenobi was standing at his side. Or maybe he was standing at Kenobi's. Wooley wasn't sure. Waxer knelt on a meditation pillow within arm's reach of them both. For his part, Wooley simply stood there for a moment and blinked at his other teacher in surprise. They'd ended up with their hands clasped in the _mando'ad_ style, hands wrapped around one anothers' forearms. 

Kenobi gave him a bemused look. _This is new to you, isn't it, Vod?_

Wooley tried to keep his answer precisely directed. _It is, sir. You wanted to know what was happening?_

_It's nothing urgent, I can sense that much,_ Kenobi said, gently, and Wooley got a distinct sense of pride-pleasure from him. _We can discuss it later._

The sense that Kenobi was in the room faded away again, and Wooley had to shake his head to clear it. When he managed, he noticed that everyone was staring at him and he'd apparently reached out to grab at thin air.

"Everything alright, Apprentice?" Ardanna asked him, shattering the moment.

"I'm fine," he reassured her, then eyed Darist, debating how much to say.

Crys rescued him, thank the Force. " _Ori'vod_ is a lot more... reserved about sex than anyone present in this room. I doubt he'd be willing to talk about it, Darist."

"You might be right," she parried, "but it would be funny."

"Let's save that for a better opportunity," Longshot replied, his expression promising mayhem. "If we do it when he's in the room it'll be even better than over a comm."

"That's easy enough to arrange," Darist pointed out. "We can ask him to come join us."

"I'm pretty sure he and _buir_ had to go out into the city for inspections of the last few repairs _Kyr'tsad_ forced us into making," Commander Cody said, shaking his head. "We can question him about this later."

"At latemeal?" Wooley suggested, and got a smirk out of the Commander.

"That does seem like the best moment," Boil said with a nod.

Darist shook her head, disappointed, and Wooley had to agree with the sentiment. "Record it," she demanded. "If I can't be there, I want to live vicariously through you, _verd'ike_."

That got a snort out of Ardanna. "Fett will do his utmost to get revenge."

"I'll cope. The look on his face will be worth it," Darist argued.

"He is a lot less open about such things than the rest of his _aliit_ ," the armourer agreed. "Sometimes I have to wonder about his birth _buir'e_ and what they taught him."

Wooley watched them exchange another look, but they let the matter drop, after that.

"I should go check on my _verd'e_ ," Darist said, and offered Ardanna a salute. She took her leave without another word beyond her goodbyes. The set of her shoulders as she exited the Armoury spoke of mixed emotions. He thought he sensed amusement as well as lingering unease and worry leftover from the first half of their conversation.

Wooley suspected she was going to make a beeline for the nearest secured comm so that she could ping their _buir_ and demand they make time to talk. Most probably specifically to tell him all about the discussion they'd just had.

Oh well. Couldn't be helped, and none of it was anything they wouldn't have said to their _buir_ anyway.

Ardanna watched the _ver'alor_ leave, herself, then met their eyes one by one. When she spoke up, her voice was serious. "I'll leave the issue alone for now, _verd'ike_ , but you should know that your _buir_ and I fully intend to get that information about your first _aliit_ out of you at some point. We can be patient, if you're not ready, but this is important to us."

Commander Cody nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his expression. "We know, Ardanna. You've made that exceedingly clear. And, for the sake of clarity, we're not trying to defend _them_."

Ardanna gave the Commander a shrewd look, then nodded and turned to Wooley. "Alright, then, Apprentice, it's high time we started your lesson. You've been primarily doing repairs up to this point, but I think those may well be getting boring."

Wooley grinned. "You mean you're going to finally show me how to use that forge in my workshop for more than just making small adjustments to armour plates?"

"First," Ardanna replied, matching his grin, "you must learn how to plan such an endeavour." Before he could ask, she went on. "That means preliminary sketches, more detailed plans including dimensions, making measurements and translating those into your plans. And _then_ we shall fire up your forge properly so I can show you how to create that which you have imagined."

Neat and orderly and organised. Just as detailed as any of the Commander's more spontaneous battle plans. There were sure to be all manner of fiddly details to account for, just as there were in field work, but he had his _vod'e_ at his back.

"Sounds good to me, Ardanna."

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

"It was a draw," Helix said firmly, glaring at him and at Longshot over his hand of sabacc cards, obviously tired of their debate over their last wager of the night. "Let's move on to a new topic."

Waxer grumbled at their medic wordlessly. He needed a distraction from the soreness in his entire body. How _meditation_ could be as tiring as a karking training session with the Commander was beyond him, but it definitely had been, even with Kenobi and the Cadet around to help out. Kark, but Dooku was an exacting teacher. "Like what?"

Longshot snorted and added a couple of credits to his little pile of wagered monies. "Helix's new vibroknife?"

"So we're just going to ignore the bantha in the room?" Crys asked with a sardonic expression. In the network, he felt like a mix of laughter and disbelief.

Commander Cody made a pained sound. " _Vod,_ " he said firmly, "I don't want to think about that. If _buir_ wants to go have fun with the _jetiise_ , let him. But I do not need those mental images."

Waxer caught his Commander's eye. " _Ke'pare,_ " he demanded, "wait just a karking second. When did we decide they got past the flirting stage?"

"You weren't there. Helix asked Ardanna and Darist what _buir_ 's tells are when he's around people he's romantically interested in," Boil informed him. "Apparently, getting as outrageously flustered as he did at firstmeal isn't one of them."

"Darist suggested we ask _ori'vod_ ," Wooley added, smirking, "and wants holo footage of his reaction."

Waxer snickered. "He really doesn't like discussing that kind of thing, does he? I wonder why."

Crys shrugged. "Who cares, _vod_? It's something we can take advantage of when we want some amusement or if we need to annoy him."

" _Buir_ definitely wasn't nearly tired enough this morning," Longshot hauled them back on topic. "If he and the _jetiise_ had kriffed all night, there's no way he wouldn't have been limping a little. Even Dooku did, after he spent that first night kriffing his _riduur_ through the mattress."

Helix nodded. "That's true. But the way he reacted to what they were saying..."

The Commander rolled his eyes at them expressively. "That means nothing, Helix. We can't read his mind. For all we know, he noticed that the Cadet had run off long before the rest of us did and was trying not to draw attention to that to keep us from getting upset."

Huh. Waxer considered that. "That's... definitely possible, sir."

"Doesn't explain how pleased Dooku and Sifo-Dyas were with themselves," Crys pointed out.

"Dooku always looks smug," Wooley disagreed, "and if he spent the night making sure his _riduur_ was tired out properly..."

"... then of course both of them would look like tookas who managed to raid the crisper," Boil finished.

"None of that proves anything," Waxer complained.

"Doesn't disprove anything, either," Longshot grumbled.

"It really doesn't matter either way," Helix said and sighed. "If _buir_ is kriffing the _jetiise_ , obviously they're being careful enough about it that we haven't spotted it, so there won't be any crazy rumours. If they're not, they're not."

Crys shook his head at their medic, disappointment clear on his face and in the network. "That's entirely beside the point, _vod_. "

Helix gave him a scathing look. "You just want to know if they really can kriff for eight hours straight."

"Well, that too," Crys agreed with a shameless smirk. "But mostly so that we can plan for contingencies. If they are kriffing, and it gets out? We need to be prepared for that."

"But also because it's entertaining," Boil added.

"Also because it's entertaining," Crys agreed.

A short silence fell as Helix tried and failed to glare Crys into submission.

"Alright, fine," their CMO grumbled. "Have it your way, but don't come crying to me if it explodes in your face. I still don't know how you got away with asking Master Dooku about Master Fisto's deece, but I suggest you don't try anything like that again."

The Commander pinched the bridge of his nose. "What I said the last time still stands. If you're _jare'la_ enough to try something like that, you can karking well deal with the consequences."

There was another moment of calm, and then Crys just had to go and ask another very good question. "So who do you think would top, if _buir_ really was kriffing the _jetiise_?"

The Commander reached out without looking and delivered a stinging swat to the back of the _di'kut_ 's head.

"Hey!" Crys protested, rubbing at his skull.

"You're really pushing the limits of my patience, _vod_."

Grumbling wordlessly under his breath, Crys subsided, looking mulish.

Waxer caught Crys' eyes and offered him a shrug. "Maybe if you're going to push your luck like that you shouldn't sit right next to the Commander," he suggested.

"He shouldn't be making those kinds of comments around non- _Vod'e_ , regardless of whether I can throw him around the room or intervene in time to shut him up. General Kenobi would be appalled," Commander Cody said with an exasperated tone in his voice.

Waxer couldn't really disagree with that, for all that he had been asking himself the very question Crys had dared voice. Ghost Company did have a reputation for professionalism to maintain alongside the one for ferocity and competence. Their General's title of _Negotiator_ wasn't for show, and when he got called on to prove that, their behaviour could and did reflect on the entire GAR.

That might not be the case right now, granted, but that didn't mean they could just throw all those rules out the window. If they karked something up, it would reflect on their _buir_ instead.

"I've gotta say, Commander," he said cautiously, "I'm kinda curious about that, myself. But you're right, that kind of speculation can't leave this room."

Thank the Force, both of them relaxed incrementally.

"You've got a point, _vod_ ," Crys conceded.

It was still unusual for the Commander to join them for this sort of thing and it showed in the way he was reacting so karking stiffly to the topics they were gossiping about. Before their trip through time, he hadn't joined them for these gossip sessions even once, always either off strategising with the General or training up the shinies or playing the role of the stern untouchable sentinel. Or triaging whatever other disaster had required his attention.

Now... It seemed like he was finally starting to feel more comfortable with the idea of letting go of his aloofness and Waxer intended to make karking sure that none of his _di'kut'la vod'e_ did anything to scare their CO off again. Waxer suspected that there was more to Commander Cody's reluctance than just his position as Marshall Commander, but he didn't know what it was. Their intrepid leader rarely talked about his past, and never about his bad experiences, whatever they were.

Commander Cody needed their support. That much was obvious to anyone with eyes and more than a week of officer training. He was doing his best -- which meant he was doing a fine job of handling everything that the galaxy was flinging at him, as he always had -- but Waxer could tell that their _al'verde_ was struggling. Less so, now that he'd allowed himself to lean on them a little, yes, but he wasn't quite steady on his feet yet, no matter what he -- or anyone else around him -- thought. Waxer knew better. Perhaps more importantly, Helix agreed with him.

Matters had been improving, fast, over the last few weeks and months. Commander Cody was networked in with them properly at kriffing last, the Force bonds with General Kenobi had worked wonders to stabilise all eight of them in the absence of their Battalion, Helix had gotten Kenobi and the Commander pointed in the right direction by pointing them at each other, and Healer Che had shored them all up wonderfully before she'd been forced to go back to Coruscant.

But they still had a ways to go.

Boil snickered, bringing Waxer's attention back to their conversation. "Besides, Commander," he said, "if we talk about this now, they won't take us as off guard later if someone makes a comment about it. Judging by the _osik_ the whole restaurant was saying last rotation, that kind of speculation happens a lot around here."

The Commander scowled at him and added a couple of credits to his own pile of wagered cash. "Waxer might be finished serving his punishment for last night, but there's nothing stopping me from making your day miserable, Boil."

"Even if I do end up on some kind of punishment detail," Boil shrugged, undaunted, "last night was worth it for the loot we scored."

Waxer grinned, thinking about their resounding success. "You said it, _riduur_. After we gave Darist and Kree their cuts, we still came out ahead by almost 1100 credits, even without counting the value of the weapons we won off that one table. We might not be able to get our own hyperspace capable ship for that, but if we add another few good hauls like we had at _Buir_ Az'okk's, and the allowances we all get from _buir_ , we could probably find something acceptable for the credits we have available."

"Small and previously owned would be smarter anyway," Wooley pointed out. "Less noticeable, and we can find ourselves a good mechanic, if it comes to that."

"True," Helix, whose turn it was to deal and call the round, said and nodded. A beat later, he demanded, "Alright, _vod'e_ , cards on the table."

Longshot won the round and grinned broadly as he gathered up the wagered credits and other assorted items on the table. "A ship big enough to hold all seven of us and the General might be tough to score, for that kind of price," he pointed out. "Making sure there are enough bunks will drive the cost up."

"We'll work something out," Waxer dismissed that. "It might take a little longer to find the credits, or the right ship, or we might have to sleep in shifts, but we'll find a way."

Boil made an amused sound. "And speaking of sleeping arrangements," he said, as he took the deck of sabacc cards from Helix and started shuffling them almost absently, "I'm kind of surprised _buir_ didn't spend the night with the _jetiise_. Did you see the way they were sizing each other up all night?"

Crys shrugged as Boil started to deal. "Nothing new about that. _Buir_ 's been watching them for a couple of weeks, now. Haven't you heard _ori'vod_ complaining about not wanting to see him do it?"

"They certainly seemed on friendly enough terms last rotation," Helix agreed, picking up the cards he was dealt as he got them and arranging them precisely in his hand. "The _jetiise_ fixed _buir_ up with their Force healing banthashit, and we all know they don't do that kind of thing for just anyone, if there are sensible alternative methods of treatment. The worst injuries _buir_ had were a few deep bruises. And probably some soreness because he didn't take the time to stretch and warm up properly before he went into the ring to spar."

The Commander spoke up, putting in his own two credits. "I'm more concerned with what Dooku said to Kenobi on the trip home," he said quietly, his presence in the network worried and somber, and all of them came on point. "I don't know what he said exactly, but I felt the way it made all of you go tense. And what the General told us afterwards..."

Waxer winced, remembering how Kenobi had shaken in their arms, all but overwhelmed by his memories. "That was a right mess, sir," he agreed, his voice just as low, and his sabacc cards ignored on the table in front of him. "But he reached out. I may not be a mind healer, or a trained medic, but that _means something, vod_. Kenobi's finally starting to accept that he's one of us."

Helix nodded. "It was horrifying to have to listen to, and, kark, I feel the urge to go burn that mine to the ground. But Waxer's right. Our General reached out and let us catch him. Think about that for a minute, _vod'e_."

Just thinking back to his General's words made Waxer shudder. _Kriff._

They'd known Kenobi had been enslaved and forced to work in a mine as a padawan.

They hadn't known it had been Xanatos who'd done that to him. They hadn't known it had been that _besom_ Jinn who Kenobi had offered to give his life to save. They hadn't known that Kenobi had very nearly been torn from them decades before they'd even been born. They hadn't known that their General's ridiculous tendency to be self-sacrificing went way beyond anything they'd ever seen him do. They'd seen him risk everything to get their _vod'e_ off the field alive, sure, but that was in the heat of battle. Offering to-- 

Waxer couldn't finish the thought, and had to fight to keep his breathing steady. When his _riduur_ 's hand landed on his shoulder, he realised his eyes had fallen shut and his breathing had gone harsh.

" _K'uur, riduur_ ," Boil murmured, tugging at him until they were pressed close together, their foreheads touching in a Keldabe kiss. "Shh, _morut'yc_. Steady."

 _They hadn't known_ , Waxer swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, and that was the most upsetting thing about it.

"Check in with us, _vod_ ," Helix prompted him.

"I'm--" His voice cut out, and he had to try again. "I'm, well... not alright, but I will be. Just... still reeling from what Kenobi told us."

"What do you need, _riduur_?" Boil's hand came up to rest at the nape of his neck and squeeze comfortingly.

"I've already got it, Boil," he answered.

He'd have said more, but Kenobi distracted him by poking at him over the bond they shared, a mix of worry and curiosity colouring his presence.

Wooley snickered at whatever Waxer's expression did. "General's going to pretend like he's fine and mother you instead, _vod_ ," their armourer-in-training informed him and Waxer groaned, trying to tell Kenobi that he and his _vod'e_ had it handled.

He was pretty sure the General didn't believe him.

Of course, then, a second worried presence just _had_ to pop up in the network, and Waxer almost wanted to just fling his sabacc cards up into the air and hide himself in his _riduur_ 's arms for the foreseeable future. It figured that, the moment he got a little wobbly, the Cadet would notice. Didn't seem to matter that the network had caught him long before it had gotten anywhere near out of control.

Longshot laughed at him. "Give up now, _vod_ ," their sniper told him with a smirk. "You'll have both Kenobis worrying about you until they're satisfied you're stable."

"If I'd known they'd turn into such mother hens, maybe I'd have fought harder not to network them in," Waxer grumbled, secure in the knowledge that everyone in the room -- and both of their networked _jetiise_ \-- would feel that he didn't mean a word of it.

His _vod'e_ laughed at him and Boil prodded at him until they were pressed close together but facing the table again properly.

"It's alright, _riduur_ ," Boil said, his tone reassuring, "we'll mother hen them both right back."

Helix snorted. "Bold of you to imply we weren't already."

Cody, his expression caught between lingering concern, amusement, and fondness, nodded. "Of course we were. But Kenobi did his best to refuse us."

Tapping at the table with the cards in his hand, Wooley pointed out, "That was before we had an inside line on how he was actually feeling and had to rely on our ability to read past his masks. Or rely on him to see past ours. Now... well. We're in unknown territory with no maps to guide us save the General's _jetii_ training. Of course, he's going to fuss, and so are we. So will _buir_ and _ori'vod_ , for that matter."

"What has me more off balance is the fact that I'm pretty sure Dooku will, as well," Crys put in. "Everyone else is _aliit_. It makes sense. It scans. But..."

"Well, he is the General's _ba'buir_ , remember?" Longshot parried. "He's _aliit_ too, in his own way, weird as it sounds."

"I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that," Cody admitted, his voice uncharacteristically full of uncertainty and doubt. "But I have to admit... he's surprisingly _mandokar'la_ for a _jetii_. If we didn't know that before, he made a karking good display of it last rotation. And he was apparently a good man before he got caught by the Dark Side. It's shockingly easy to see. The Cadet has that _jetii_ wrapped around his little finger, and Dooku doesn't even mind. I'm just... far too used to thinking of him as an enemy. Or was. I don't know anymore."

Helix nodded. "I know what you mean, _vod_. If we do find a way back to our own timeline, like the General thinks we can, it'll be tough to go back to thinking of him as a _dar'jetii_. I've been thinking the same kinds of things. It's so karking dissonant, but, I actually like the man he is now."

The rest of their _vod'e_ nodded.

"And it's amazing how sappy he is about his _riduur_ ," Boil put in, lightening the mood right back up again. "They moon over each other all the karking time, even in public, even if they won't admit it to anyone."

The discussion was forcibly ended there, as the door of their suite opened and Kenobi stepped through, his cape and surcoat seeming to swirl around him like his robes always had when he was agitated and didn't realise he was pulling on the Force. "Waxer? _Vod_?"

As all six of his _vod'e_ \-- including his karking commander -- started snickering at him, Waxer let his head tilt back far enough that he could beg the ceiling for patience in the face of the mother henning that he just _knew_ was going to follow, no matter what he said. "I'm _fine_ , sir, my _vod'e_ caught me."

\--- POV: Cody Mereel ---

Watching the General fuss over Waxer was kind of hilariously ironic. Their _dini'la jetii_ almost never cared for himself beyond the barest minimum he needed to, to keep fighting, but the moment one of his troopers was in what he considered distress, all bets were off. He'd always done that, for as long as Cody had known him.

Kenobi had swept into their quarters, entirely ignoring their sabacc game, and all but hauled Waxer bodily out of his seat to make sure the Lieutenant was intact, prodding at him over the network and grilling him about what he'd sensed a few minutes ago. Worried that he'd caused it and taking the blame for things he had no control over.

As ever.

Now, in light of what they'd learned about him, that sort of behaviour took on a whole new meaning.

Cody wasn't entirely certain what that meaning was, exactly, just yet, but he knew they needed to work on this. Sharing a glance and a nod with Helix, he knew that his instincts were likely on the mark and that he'd have his medic's support, if he undertook to do something about this.

He'd have to think this over in more detail later, and maybe discuss it with Helix.

Having Kenobi networked in was working wonders for all eight of them, and they all knew it. Well. Maybe Kenobi hadn't realised it yet. But Cody could see the way all of his men seemed to stand taller. There was a newfound stability in their whole group that hadn't existed before they'd hit whatever that karking Force trap had been that Grievous had led them into. He knew his own ongoing efforts to implement what Healer Che had shown him were far from complete, and would have lingering effects on them all. That was all but guaranteed. The network picked up on that kind of distress very quickly, after all. But despite that, he could tell by the way Helix had relaxed incrementally over the last few weeks that matters had vastly improved.

"For Force's _sake_ , General," Waxer grumbled, more than a hint of fond annoyance in his voice. "Tone it down, will you?"

Kenobi raised an eyebrow at him. "Stubborn, as ever," he commented, but he let Waxer take his seat again.

"You really have no leg to stand on, on that score, sir," Boil replied, laughing, and the others snickered quietly.

"Since you're here, now, come join us, General," Longshot invited him. "Been a while since you did."

"I couldn't," Kenobi tried to protest, but they could all feel that he was tempted. "This was supposed to be your time to talk over things without me."

Cody scoffed. "We have no secrets from our _vod'e_ , Kenobi," he said, pointedly reminding the _di'kut_ that he was one of _them_ now. "If it ever comes to that, we'll let you know that we need some private time or find a way to get it ourselves. Yes, some things need to stay under wraps until we can work out who needs to know. Helix and I have had some discussions that have never reached other ears. But we know how to manage that sort of thing. You are free to assume you are welcome to join us for any activity at any time, unless we specifically state otherwise. And we will always try to do that in a way that's discreet and polite."

The expression on his General's face was one of stunned surprise, as though he hadn't expected to hear that. As though no one had ever said that to him.

The mere fact that he'd had this thought before made Cody burn with the need to pummel everyone in Kenobi's past in the face. Preferably with his gauntlet armour on. He could tell that several of his _vod'e_ felt the same, too. 

As though he'd heard the thought -- he'd probably felt their reaction in the network, sensitive to such things as he was -- Kenobi straightened up as though stuck with one of Helix's hyposprays. "Oh no," he said firmly, "I'll have none of that, Commander. I can fight my own battles, thank you."

"You can," Longshot agreed, "but you don't have to. Come on. Sit down, sir. We'll deal you in."

General Kenobi surveyed them all, taking in their expressions and feeling them out in the network, then gave in and accepted the invitation. "Very well, but don't expect me to go easy on you just because I like you." 

Wooley shook his head. "We know better than to expect that, sir. We also know better than to bet what we can't afford to lose."

Taking the seat next to Cody's, Kenobi gave him a wry look. "Yes, you proved that amply at _Buir_ Az'okk's, last rotation."

Waxer and Boil smirked, very pleased with themselves. "We've had time to practice, General," Boil said simply. "Not much else to do in hyperspace between engagements, unless you're a Commander or obsessively training."

Cody let himself make a face. "Next time we're in hyperspace for a few rotations, Boil, you're doing the flimsiwork, so I can sleep."

That got him one of the most amazingly horrified looks he'd gotten out of his troopers in a while. "That's cruel and unusual punishment, sir," Waxer defended his _riduur_.

"But it's not cruel and unusual when I have to do it, Lieutenant?" Cody asked, and had to hide his own smirk when his second floundered, unsure how to answer.

Saying yes would mean he felt Cody deserved what had just been equated to torture, and saying no would mean conceding that he was wrong and his _riduur_ should take the punishment.

Kenobi outright laughed, openly delighted by the verbal snare Cody had managed to place. "Well played, Commander."

Rather than answer verbally, Cody shrugged, still hiding his smirk as best he could and certain everyone could see it -- or feel it -- despite his efforts. Their sabacc round had been more or less abandoned even before Kenobi had come into the room. Making a decision, he suggested, "Longshot? Deal the General in."

Longshot collected up the cards without a word and shuffled them deftly as the rest of them pulled their wagers back off the table.

"Standard rules?" Kenobi asked, almost absently.

"Yeah," Crys answered, ante-ing up the traditional initial wager. "Unless you have any special rules you'd like to add in, sir?"

"No, standard is fine." Kenobi answered. "I don't need to make the game more complicated for my opponents."

"You think you can win without that, do you, General?" Crys grinned back.

"I know I can," Kenobi riposted. "I have, in fact. Many times."

A short comfortable silence fell as the cards were dealt, and they made their wagers.

"So can we get back to our discussion now?" Wooley asked them. "I just can't stop thinking about the way that _verd_ of Jango's karking introduced himself."

Longshot cackled even as he set the undealt cards down near the center of the table. "That _verd_ has karking balls of _beskar_ ," he said shaking his head remembered amusement and disbelief. " _Call me cyare_. For Force's sake."

"Laugh all you want," Waxer said, "I'm pretty sure it would have worked, if they'd known enough Mando'a to pick up on what he meant."

Boil snorted. "Maybe. It's got a certain direct charm, I'll admit."

"The reason it didn't work," Helix said, placing a couple of his cards down in front of him, in the area of the table they'd designated their 'stasis field', "is that they were both more interested in seducing _buir_ than letting Wen take them for a tumble."

Kenobi groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do _not_ want to think about that harder than I must, _vod'e_."

Crys snickered at him. "Too much for your delicate sensibilities, General?"

"I'd rather not think about my _buir_ having sex with my grandmaster, thanks," the General grumbled, looking like he couldn't _quite_ stop himself from thinking about it despite his protests.

"As long as everything is consensual, who gives a kriff?" Cody put in, getting a nod from Helix and Boil.

Kenobi grumbled something under his breath and put his own cards into the imaginary stasis field. "Obviously," he said, "but I still don't want to have to think about it."

"Would it have been better if Dooku and Sifo-Dyas had gone with Wen?" Longshot asked, all innocent curiosity.

The General raised an eyebrow at him. "Marginally."

The initial round of betting ended when Longshot placed his own card down, and they all got dealt new hands. Once he'd seen his new cards, Cody eyed Kenobi's fairly substantial raise and the single card the General had placed in the 'stasis field'. Was it a bluff? In the network, Kenobi betrayed nothing, his shielding impeccable.

... _his shielding_.

Kark.

Cody had to wonder just what Kenobi had read off them. None of them had been making more than a token effort at shielding up to that point.

Pretending to consider his hand, Cody started gradually making his own airtight, as best he could. They wouldn't be nearly as practiced and smooth as Kenobi's, or as impenetrable, but hopefully it would keep the General from reading him too easily. "And what would make it better, then, sir?" He asked, hoping to keep the General more focused on the discussion than the network.

Kenobi shrugged. "Well, I doubt any of you have the means to make it better, _vod'e_ ," he said, sardonically, "seeing as none of you can dictate what the three of them do, and also wouldn't want to."

Helix conceded that with a tilt of his head as he made his own bet. "Point."

Cody could feel his troopers picking up on what he'd done and following his example one by one. That, predictably, made their General beam at them, pleased.

"So, you've caught on to that aspect of the game, have you," Kenobi said, sounding like that was worth more to him than any wager on the table. "Good."

Predictably, Kenobi won the first hand he took part in.

If he had anything to say about it, the General wouldn't win the second. Cody took the cards from Longshot, gathering up the hands his _vod'e_ had played and shuffling them almost absently back into the deck. As he worked the deck, letting the cards riffle satisfyingly through his hands in one of the more complex shuffles he knew, the discussion continued.

"So what kind of punishment do you think _ori'vod_ will dish out to Wen?" Crys asked.

Longshot shrugged. "My guess is, he'll probably try to kick Wen around the training yard."

"Try?" Wooley asked. "You're willing to underestimate _ori'vod_ like that?"

"You think he's good enough to handle Wen, Commander?" Waxer asked, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Boil snorted. "Jango didn't do too horribly against the Commander, but Wen is an unknown quantity. We've never seen him fight seriously, after all."

Kenobi gave them a knowing look. "And that's stopped you from making an assessment?" He asked, knowing full well that they had.

"Oh, we made an assessment," Wooley conceded, "but its accuracy is suspect."

"Wen does move smoothly, and the fact that he managed to pull off that kind of ridiculous comedy act without prior warning or a rehearsal says that he's skilled," Cody put in. "We can't evaluate his style or his odds of winning against Jango, but judging by how he and _ori'vod_ acted like they'd known each other for years... I'd lay good odds that Wen is one of the _verd'e_ who helped _buir_ train him. So whether Jango could win against him in a spar is an open question."

His _vod'e_ nodded, agreeing with him wordlessly, and the General watched closely as Cody dealt the next round.

Cody, who'd carefully made sure his hand would be good, looked up from his cards just in time to see Kenobi smirk at him wickedly.

"Tell me, Commander," Kenobi drawled, his Coruscanti accent making it seem like he was caressing the words before he spoke them, "do you often deal from the bottom of the deck?"

Leaning back in his seat, Cody watched, amused, as his _vod'e_ all turned to look at him sharply, reevaluating their hands. "What makes you so certain I did, this time, sir?"

He made sure to keep his hands visible the whole time.

"Well, your self-satisfaction is a pretty big tell." Kenobi shot back, leaning one elbow on the table, his chin resting on his bent wrist, and his cards dangling lazily from his fingers. His expression was sharply focused.

"My self-satisfaction, sir?" Kark it, his General was trying to distract him from something. But what?

Kenobi nodded. "It's quite obvious, even with those shields you've put up. Shows in your eyes."

Fierfek. "Flirting won't make your hand any better, sir," Cody pointed out. "And that self-satisfaction had nothing at all to do with my alleged attempt to cheat."

"Alleged?" The General didn't let up. "You think I'm so easily fooled as that, Commander?"

Putting his hand of cards pointedly on the table, facedown, Cody kept up the façade. "Who said I had to fool anyone?"

The men were watching them like it was a limmie match, the scores tied and the final seconds counting down.

General Kenobi smirked, the expression somewhere between warm and wicked. "I did."

"Your insinuations are hurtful, sir." Cody told him, making his expression as solemn and his voice as hurt as he could. Kriff, but having the General's full attention on him was difficult to resist, and made it impossible to signal his _vod'e_ to take advantage of Kenobi's focus to improve their own hands. Maybe they'd pick up on the opportunity anyways, despite the fact that they were all currently shielding themselves for the sake of not giving away the farm. Waxer and Boil were very good at this sort of thing. "Having my _Vod'e_ confirm my assessment of Wen's fighting was what made me feel that way."

Helix snorted, his expression blank and his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and resignation, but carefully said nothing.

Eyeing their medic warily, Kenobi shrugged. "I suppose that's plausible enough," he conceded. "Alright. I'll give you this one. But keep in mind that cheating in such a manner invites retribution."

Raising an amused eyebrow at his _jetii_ , Cody asked, "Retribution, is it, General? You going to try to cheat us all?"

Crys finally dared break his silence, "You trying to issue a challenge, Commander? 'Cause I can tell you, that's going to backfire."

Kenobi looked inordinately pleased, at that. "Come now, Crys, I'm not that cruel."

Implying that Cody was, and looping the comments about cruel and unusual punishment right back into the discussion, implicitly. Cody gave his General a narrow-eyed stare. "Oh? I seem to recall a few so-called drills at the beginnings of our tour together that say otherwise."

The sally got him a chuckle, and Cody _thought_ he saw at least one card change hands.

"So you're saying that you couldn't keep up, my dear Commander?" Kenobi asked him, smirking devilishly. "Perhaps I need to design some new drills for the lot of you. Call the round."

Drawing himself up, his pride pricked, Cody fought to keep his annoyance under control. The round was technically only half finished, but he no longer gave a kriff about that. After all, he had more than just one trick up his gauntlets at any given point in time. "Oh, General, just you wait and see who has to keep up with whom. _Vod'e_ , we have a bluff to call. Cards on the table." 

One by one, grinning broadly, they revealed their hands.

Winning combinations, every one.

Kenobi surveyed them, then his own cards -- good, but not good enough to win with -- before he laughed, delightedly. His shields came down most of the way, and the network rang with his mix of amusement and pride the moment Cody followed suit.

_Well played, Commander. Well played, indeed._

Cody, who'd held onto his cards until all of his men had placed theirs on the table, gave his self-satisfaction free rein. His Idiot's Array was enough to win him the round, but only barely, and the way his _vod'e_ were laughing and grabbing for him in the network, radiating their glee at his little maneuver, was enough to make him give in to his own laughter. Right then, there was no sense of distance; no one gave a kriff about rank or regs or respect. He and Kenobi had been folded into the network fully, and his _vod'e_ were happy to have them there.

This? This was what home felt like.

He was sure of it.


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up warning for folks, there is some discussion of past child abuse in this chapter. Most of it is canonical, some of it we made up. All of the instances of abuse take place far in the past and are brought up in conversation. No flashbacks or anything like that. Just talk.
> 
> It's kind of mixed in with the conversation, but the heavier topics start with this line: _Yan nodded, and cradled his tea cup in both hands._
> 
> There's some plot stuff wrapped up in there, and I suppose here is fair warning for more on Ben's Shitty Padawan Years. But if you really want to skip the trauma, I'm _pretty sure_ that most of the terrible past experiences wrap up around this line: _Many left the Order, and none of us had the time or the resources to do more than simply watch them go._
> 
> Take care of yourselves, folks.

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

“You will behave while we are in the council room,” Yan said to Obi-Wan. It was not a request. 

What Sy intended to accomplish with this, Yan had no idea. Inviting a _five year old_ to observe a council meeting. Obi-Wan seemed ecstatic at the opportunity, though, and -- barring this morning -- was very well behaved.

“Yes, Master Doo,” Obi-Wan said, nodding his head seriously. 

Sy had helped dress the little one in a nicer set of initiate robes along with his armor, though he left the helmet off. Yan was always impeccably dressed, and Sy was his normal radiant self. 

Force, Yan had never had to deal with teaching diplomacy to a toddler before. 

“Once they let us into the council room, you should pick him up,” Sy advised quietly. They were all standing in the hall outside, waiting for the _Mand’alor_ and his councilmembers to be ready for them.

Yan shot Sy a slightly alarmed look. “Pick him up?”

Sy just raised an eyebrow at him. “You are very tall, Master Dooku. If you wish to speak quietly to him, then you’ll have to be closer to him than your height difference would allow while standing. Kneeling seems a bit ignoble. So, pick him up.”

A brief wave of… _something_ made its way through Yan. It wasn’t panic. Surely not. It might be better to say that he was… merely unsettled. Yes. That was more apt. 

Truly, this sort of thing wasn’t his forte. Sy would be busy presenting the AgriCorps information to the Mandalorians, though, so he was unable to fulfill the task of watching and mentoring Obi-Wan.

“You’ll do great, Master Doo,” Obi-Wan said, patting Yan’s hand.

Sy smothered a smile with one hand. Yan could feel the amusement wafting off the guards at the door, even though their expressions were hidden by their helmets. 

Yan sighed. Might as well try to act with as much dignity as he could muster in the face of this trial. 

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” Yan said gravely. 

They only had to wait a few minutes longer. Then one of the guards had opened the door and waved them in.

“Up we go,” Sy said, picking Obi-Wan up and handing him to Yan.

Yan gave Sy an unappreciative look as he settled Obi-Wan into place at his side. This only seemed to make Sy even more amused. Unfortunately.

Well, at least one of them was going to be entertained.

“I’m so excited,” Obi-Wan whispered into Yan’s ear.

Alright, two of them were going to be entertained. It seemed that Yan had been soundly outvoted. 

Jaster looked deeply amused to see Obi-Wan perched in Yan’s arms. Most of the rest of the council looked confused, though a few smirked.

Neither Yan nor Sy had gotten the full story out of Obi-Wan or Jaster about what, exactly, Obi-Wan had run off to do this morning. Jaster had just shown up with Obi-Wan on his back, accompanied by servants pushing carts with their firstmeal on them, and all of them trailed by a few guards. 

It remained extremely suspicious. Yan had plans to press some information out of the _vod’e_ about it later. If that was unsuccessful -- which it might very well be, considering how protective the younglings were of Obi-Wan -- then he might have to resort to other sources of information. 

Either way, whatever had gone on hadn’t upset the _vod’e_ too much, and Jaster had made no complaints to him or to Sy. But based on the looks that they were getting from the Mandalorian council, Yan had the sneaking suspicion that he and Sy were the only ones present that were in the dark about where Obi-Wan had snuck off to.

Yan and Sy walked to the customary petitioning spot in the center of the circle of councilmember chairs, and bowed to Jaster in unison. The impressiveness of this act was slightly hampered by Obi-Wan’s giggles at being dipped along with the bow. 

Yan continued to act as if nothing was out of place, not even a little. If he believed it hard enough, perhaps it would be true. 

“Thank you for seeing us, _Mand’alor_ ,” Sy said.

Jaster nodded to him. “I’m looking forward to hearing what your proposal is for your farmer _aliit_ on our world.” He raised an amused eyebrow at Yan and Obi-Wan. “And I see you’ve brought your _ad’ika_.” 

It wasn’t quite a question.

Yan treated it as such anyways.

“Even though Initiate Obi-Wan is not old enough to be chosen as a padawan learner, we felt this might be an excellent opportunity to give him a lesson in diplomacy,” Yan said. 

He, of course, wouldn’t allow himself something so unprofessional as fidgeting or shifting his weight, no matter his personal discomfort. Instead, he held himself with even more poise, and cast a sharp look around to the rest of the councilors, daring them to say something about the arrangement. 

It was Jedi business if he and Sy decided to give Obi-Wan an extra lesson in politics. Given the Mandalorian penchant for education and adoption, they had absolutely no room to complain about younglings being present for a quick primer. Yan could, and would, verbally eviscerate them over it.

He almost wished they’d try. 

For whatever reason, his usually intimidating presence didn’t inspire the reaction he’d expected. Even more of the councilmembers started smiling or smirking, and not a single one of them protested Obi-Wan’s presence. 

“Sounds reasonable,” Jaster said affably. He waved at Sy, indicating that he should proceed.

Yan had heard all of what Sy had to say already. They’d talked a great deal about it over the last few weeks. The two of them had pinpointed one plot in the Sundari biodome to be the AgriCorps home base, and then narrowed down several more potential sites for early research and experimentation. 

While Sy discussed all of that information with the Mandalorian council and fielded questions like the consummate professional that he was, Yan kept half of his attention on the councilmembers reactions and the other half on Obi-Wan.

Partway through the discussion on what, exactly, the initial research would be like, Obi-Wan tugged on Yan’s robe.

“Master Doo,” Obi-Wan whispered very quietly in Yan’s ear. “Does the _Mand’alor_ ’s council vote like the Order’s council?”

“They do not,” Yan answered just as quietly. “The _Mand’alor_ is the sole ruler here, though he does work with his council to reach a decision that they all will approve of.”

“Do they argue?” Obi-Wan looked at him with wide, sad eyes.

“Sometimes. Most ruling bodies do.” Yan shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“How? People get upset ‘nd angry, and Master Yoda said that anger leads to hate ‘nd hate leads to suffering. They all seem really nice, I don’ want them to suffer.” Now Obi-Wan’s eyes grew watery.

“Hush,” Yan said soothingly. “It’s not all that bad. People can have disagreements without hating each other, even though it can be more challenging for some than others,” he added with a wry grimace. 

He cast a glance around the room, but his conversation with Obi-Wan was being ignored, by and large. A few of the councilmembers even cast warm looks at them.

Force, but the Mandalorians really did love children. Yan took a moment to admire Sy’s scheming. Perhaps Obi-Wan’s presence would be more benefit than detriment. 

Drawing his attention back to Obi-Wan, he continued his explanation. “No one person can be right all the time. So it is in a ruler’s best interest to surround themselves with intelligent people who can be counted on to speak truthfully, even if they don’t agree with the ruler. Better decisions are made that way. It can cause conflict, but a healthy, honest group of people will not let it fester into something toxic.”

 _Unlike the Senate_ , Yan did not add. He kept that poisonous little thought to himself. Obi-Wan would have more than enough time to learn how encumbered with corruption that political body was. 

Obi-Wan’s face relaxed into quiet understanding.

The youngling had many more questions as the meeting progressed. Some of which were quite beyond what Yan would have expected from a child so young. But this was Obi-Wan, who had Ben’s memories and experiences to draw on.

The exact details of that connection had never been clarified for Yan. He hadn’t asked, either, though he wanted to. It was likely better for all of them if that information was kept as quiet as possible. 

To Yan’s incredible surprise, the council meeting sped by much faster than he thought it would. He was doubly surprised by how easily the Mandalorians agreed to many of the provisions that Sy requested, including additional security for the Corps members and freedom to move about the planet as they desired. 

Before he knew it, they were bowing again and thanking Jaster and his council for their time.

They weren’t even out of the damn room before Obi-Wan was squirming out of Yan’s hold.

“Can we go outside now?” Obi-Wan asked, as if he wasn’t already plotting to jump out the nearest window. 

“We have enough time before dinner to go do some ‘sabre practice in the training yard,” Sy said.

“Hooray!” 

And then Obi-Wan was off, dragging Sy behind him down the hall.

“Well played, _jetii_ ,” Jango said quietly, having sidled up to them as they hit the doors and followed them out of the room. 

“Thank you,” Yan answered. “That did go better than I expected.”

He’d prepared himself for a great deal of debate, which was another reason he hadn’t been looking forward to making Obi-Wan sit through the whole meeting. 

“I’m guessing you recorded that for your _vod’e_?” Yan asked with a raised eyebrow.

He could feel Jango grin under his helmet. “Crys and Waxer are gonna be thrilled.”

Yan snorted.

“I’ll tell them to meet you all in the training yard,” Jango said.

Since a good round of sparring sounded fantastic, Yan nodded and relayed his thanks. 

As much as he wanted to get in more training with Ben, tonight was Sy and Obi-Wan’s last night on Mandalore. Yan was sure that he could convince the _vod’e_ to keep an eye on Obi-Wan while Yan got one last spar in with Sy.

It would likely be several months before he saw his dearest friend again. There was no way the High Council would allow Obi-Wan more than one or two visits a year to Mandalore, especially not if they lasted a month as this one had. Sy might want to come alone, but there would be no built in reason for him to do so, and it would only look suspicious to the Order and to the Mandalorians. By the same token, Yan’s mission was here. It would be many months before he could reasonably expect to want a short vacation back to the Temple. 

A sharp wave of melancholy settled in his chest.

He’d forgotten how good it felt to spend more than a stolen night or two with Sy. Now he would have to once again become accustomed to solitude. 

Yan banished those thoughts before they could intrude too much. He would relish their time together tonight, and tomorrow would handle itself. 

\--

That slight edge of sorrow didn’t dissipate with the arrival of dinner. Yan knew that he wasn’t the only one feeling pained at the knowledge that their visit was coming to an end. 

He consoled himself with the satisfaction of watching Jaster eye him and Sy. If he had months yet to wait for the pleasure of Sy’s company again, well, at least he wasn’t alone. Apparently, he and Sy had done a rather good job of catching Jaster’s interest. Even more pleasing was the fact that -- aside from a few more interested looks -- Jaster’s attitude towards them hadn’t changed at all. That boded well for the rest of Yan’s tour on Mandalore. 

The cooks had outdone themselves with the meal. It was a proper goodbye dinner, with a number of everyones' favorite dishes present. 

“I have to thank you again for acquiring some spices to take home with us,” Sy said, smiling warmly at Yan.

“It is my pleasure, Master Sifo-Dyas.” Yan tried not to preen too much.

From how Waxer and Boil rolled their eyes, it was possible he wasn’t terribly successful.

Obi-Wan, however, had a look of ferocious focus on his face. “Do you have th’ recipes, Master Sy?”

“I do,” Sy nodded. His eyes crinkled with silent laughter. 

Obi-Wan raised up his fork to emphasise his point. “We need to make Master Mace the Dark Side Meat. ‘Nd we need to invite Master Kit ‘nd Master Plo.”

Jaster smothered a laugh with one hand while Jango and half the _vod’e_ openly snickered.

“It’s like watching a mini-General,” Longshot said.

“Tiny and exactly the same.” Waxer nodded along.

Ben glared at them, but didn’t comment.

“What’s your plan of attack once you get the masters gathered for dinner, Cadet?” Cody asked. His manner was serious, but his eyes twinkled with good humor.

“Gotta get ‘em together first,” Obi-Wan responded promptly. “Master Plo will be easy. He likes crèchelings. Master Kit might be harder, but I think if we use fish instead of nerf for th’ meat, that’ll be the perfect lure.”

Ben, Crys, and Wooley all snorted at the wording. Yan was mostly watching with mild horror. He gave Sy a look. Sy just pinched the bridge of his nose and half-laughed, half-sighed. 

“Master Mace is gonna be harder, ‘cause he likes to be prickly even though he’s a big softy.” Obi-Wan scowled at his plate, a strangely adult expression for such a small child. He narrowed his eyes and _hummed_. 

“Excellently reasoned, Cadet. And you’re right, Master Windu will be the toughest sell. You’ll probably need at least one backup plan for him,” Cody said. He was clearly enjoying playing up his job as strategic advisor to the little one.

“I’mma bribe Padawan Depa,” Obi-Wan said finally. 

Sy choked on a bite of his meal, and ended up coughing for a moment while the Mereels just cackled. Yan rubbed his face with one hand. 

Force. Sy had his work cut out for him. 

“Bribe her with what, Cadet?” Waxer asked, still snickering. 

“Master Sy bought me Mandalorian candy from the market. I’ve been savin’ it. I could share some with her, to put her in a good mood, ‘nd then tell her how a-maz-ing Master Mace is, ‘cause he knows Vaapad, ‘nd _then_ tell her about the Dark Side Meat. I bet she would want t’ know if he can eat it, too.” Obi-Wan raised up one hand and then made a sharp grabbing motion, as if he’d just caught something out of thin air. “Then I’ll have Master Mace.”

Jaster had stopped eating at that point and was just crying with laughter. The _vod’e_ weren’t far behind him, and even Ben was smirking.

“Force, Sy, you need to take pictures of this,” Yan muttered to Sy, who just rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling in exasperation. 

“You’ll need to get permission from Crèche Master Tinna, too,” Ben pointed out. 

Obi-Wan nodded, but the gesture looked hesitant. “I do… but I’m not _super duper_ worried ‘bout that.”

Oh, Force.

“Why not?” Yan had to ask.

“‘Cause Crys is teachin’ me how to slice locks,” Obi-Wan chirped back.

Yan and Sy both leveled a glare at Crys, who winced hard.

“Busted, _vod_ ,” Helix muttered at him.

“Look, I didn’t mean to.” Crys held up his hands, as if to ward off an imminent attack. 

“How do you ‘not mean to’ teach someone slicing?” Jango asked incredulously. 

“Listen, he just picks up skills really quickly, and--” Crys stopped to stare at Yan and Sy.

Yan just raised an eyebrow at him. This was obviously the moment where Crys realized that he’d painted himself into a corner with his answer, because now he had to admit that there was _some_ kind of bond between them and Obi-Wan. 

Not that Yan or Sy were ignorant of that. But _knowing_ about something and _acknowledging it_ were two different things.

“Uhhhh.” Crys looked at Ben in his panic. “I mean…”

Yan turned his attention to Ben, and tilted his head in a nonverbal prod for an explanation. He kept his amusement to himself, though it was possible that Ben would feel some of it in the Force. 

“Obi-Wan does get quite a lot of my memories, in one shape or another,” Ben said with a perfectly innocent smile. 

“And obviously, Crys taught you some slicing as well,” Sy added, just as insincerely. 

“A bit, here and there.” Ben continued to smile and sip his tea. 

Yan’s shoulders shook in a silent chuckle at the obvious avoidance of the true answer. Right now, this sharing of information was harmless. He held out hope that as time went on, Ben and his _vod’e_ would come to trust them more, and by the time that those bonds between them _were_ critical information to know, they would be willing to share.

Until then, they could all joke and insinuate around the matter. 

Sy shifted his attention back to Obi-Wan. “Regardless of _where_ you got the information, you should not be slicing your way out of your room at night. Crèche Master Tinna would be very upset.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan deflated. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Don’t worry, Obi-Wan,” Sy said warmly. He waved a hand and the Force stirred around where Obi-Wan sat between Cody and Waxer, ruffling his hair. “I’m certain that I can arrange a dinner away from the crèche for you.”

Obi-Wan giggled and squirmed as he batted at Sy’s Force presence. “Stoooooop, Master Sy!”

Sy grinned and dropped his hand. 

“Just remember to send us holos, Cadet,” Boil said.

Waxer nodded along with him.

“And any other pictures you might want to,” Crys added. 

That fierce determination was back on Obi-Wan’s face as he nodded at them.

“I’ll keep up correspondence,” Sy said to them all. “Initiates his age aren’t allowed comms, especially not ones that can reach to the Outer Rim, but I’ll relay anything you like back and forth.”

“Thank you, Master Sy,” Obi-Wan said quietly. 

The table resumed eating in silence for a moment. Yan eyed Obi-Wan. The little one seemed to droop in place.

“Do we have to leave?” Obi-Wan asked plaintively. 

“I’m afraid so, Cadet,” Cody answered, sounding just as mournful as Obi-Wan did. 

Sy stirred his food around on his plate. Something in the movement caught Yan’s eye. He knew that expression. Sy was bracing himself to give someone an option that he hoped they wouldn’t take.

Yan pressed his Force presence up against Sy’s shields, offering the support he didn’t dare give more overtly. 

“Strictly speaking, you don’t… _have_ to go,” Sy said.

Everyone at the table stared at him. Jaster, Jango, and the _vod’e_ looked shocked while Ben looked grim.

“No. He needs to go back to the Temple,” Ben said firmly.

Sy gave him his full attention, dragging his gaze away from his plate. “Ben,” he said softly. “That’s not your choice to make.”

Cody and Waxer bristled.

“Explain,” Jaster quietly demanded.

Since Sy was still in a staring contest with Ben, Yan decided to jump in and lend him a hand. He was fairly sure he knew where this was going, anyways.

“What he means is that young Obi-Wan has the option to stay here, if he would like,” Yan said. Before Obi-Wan could get too excited, he added, “He would have to leave the Order to do so, but we would not require him to stay if his heart _truly_ called him elsewhere.”

“What? I thought that younglings didn’t get a choice to leave,” Waxer said with a frown.

Yan rolled his eyes. “We’re not slavers, young one. There are _consequences_ for leaving the Order, but we don’t hold anyone against their will. Even younglings.”

“It is not an option that is very frequently pursued,” Sy said. “ _Especially_ for someone Obi-Wan’s age. If an initiate or an underage padawan expresses an honest desire to leave the Order, the matter is brought before the High Council. In the rare instances where this has happened, the initiate’s thoughts on the matter are discussed. Based on what the initiate has to say, they are then put on a probationary period where their complaints are addressed and hopefully remedied. That generally lasts a year. If at the end of that time, they are still truly unhappy, then the Council gives custody of the child back to their family, or if they are unavailable, an appropriate alternative.”

“The Order is the best place for him,” Ben insisted. “If he leaves, even to come here and live on Mandalore, that means he won’t grow up to be a Jedi. It is a _mistake_ to leave, and one he would regret bitterly.”

Everything in Ben’s body language screamed that this was important to him; his jaw was tight and he was leaning into the table as if restraining himself from physically _making this right_. An unusual reaction for one who was generally so self contained. 

The _vod’e_ looked at Ben in quiet alarm, and Obi-Wan had a wounded expression on his face. 

“It is still _his choice_ ,” Sy said. “We can guide him, we can give him all of his options, and since he is so young, we can require him to take the time to truly think through his decision, but we cannot take anyone’s choice from them.”

A heavy silence weighed down around them as Ben visibly bit back his immediate response. 

“Just so I’m clear… what _are_ Obi-Wan’s options?” Jaster asked, reluctantly breaking the staring match between Sy and Ben.

Sy turned to look at Jaster. He set down his fork and folded his hands on the table, the perfect picture of Jedi calm. Yan knew that it was at least partially an act; he knew Sy too well to be fooled, though he doubted anyone else could tell.

“We would have to contact Obi-Wan’s birth family, and investigate their fitness to care for a Force sensitive child, as well as their desire to do so. As Ben’s… blood family,” Sy gave Ben a wry smirk, “you also, would have a claim on him. An amicable agreement would have to be reached.” 

Ben scoffed, and sat back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. His shielding was tight as a drum; Yan couldn’t get a read on him in the Force. Not that it mattered. For once, Ben’s body language gave him away completely. From the bitter twist of his mouth to the tightness around his eyes, his feelings were obvious. Cody twitched as if he wanted to reach out and comfort him but didn’t quite dare to.

“His birth family,” Crys whispered. As if it had never once occurred to him that Obi-Wan didn’t simply pop out of the ground, fully formed. 

“The Order needs to be very careful about such things,” Sy said grimly. “Many Jedi come from situations that aren’t safe for them, regardless of whether or not their birth family wants them. Part of the probationary period before a youngling is allowed to leave the care of the Order is spent investigating where the youngling might go.”

Yan nodded, and cradled his tea cup in both hands. “When my birth father discovered that I was Force sensitive, he called on the Jedi, demanding that they take me off of his hands. They did not arrive with enough haste for his liking. Rather than wait for someone to pick me up, he left me in the woods outside his lands, in wintertime, without even the comfort of clothes. I was only a few months old.”

“ _Hut’uun shabuir dar’buir_ ,” Jaster growled under his breath. He’d clenched his fists and looked about two seconds from punching someone or retching. The reaction was a bit flattering; it was novel to have someone offended on his behalf, especially for something that happened so long ago.

“That wasn’t the worst of it,” Yan said with sardonic delight. Some part of him took perverse pleasure in adding one more horrifying detail into the mix. “There were spine-wolves about. A Jedi on-planet felt my terror in the Force and found me before I could freeze to death or be eaten. My birth family would have refused me outright, if I had wanted to leave the Order as an initiate.”

“Mine, on the other hand, would have welcomed me with open arms,” Sy said with a matching dry smirk. “On Minashee, Force sensitive children are generally held in good regard. My parents, on the other hand, thought I was possessed, and attempted to beat the evil spirits out of me. When I was taken by a Jedi Seeker, I had several cracked bones. My first room at the Temple was in the Halls of Healing. I just barely remember how furious my birth parents were, and how upset I was that I was being taken. Their worry and love were so strong in the Force. They fully believed that they were doing what was best for me, and I believed them. They were my parents. I learned later that what they’d done to me wasn’t right. If I had ever decided to leave the Order, my family would have cheerfully accepted me back, and then promptly returned to their abusive behavior in an attempt to ‘save’ me.”

Jango looked torn between nausea and rage.

Ben still wouldn’t look at them, or anyone. Waxer had moved around the table to stand next to Ben and put an arm around him. Obi-Wan had crawled into Cody’s lap. The rest of the _vod’e_ looked like they wanted to join them all in a pile.

While Yan’s heart ached a little for them, this conversation was something that they had to address. Better to swallow the bitter medicine now and know what to expect, than to let misconceptions fester.

Ben had mentioned that he’d been kicked out of the Order, twice. Or left. It was unclear. Obviously, this conversation had brought up something unpleasant for him. Yan was relieved to see that Ben wasn’t trying to get away from Waxer. In fact, he seemed to lean into him ever so slightly.

Good. At least he was accepting support from someone.

“What about me?” Obi-Wan asked. “Did my birth family want me?”

Most of the table turned to look at Ben, but Ben shook his head. “I don’t know. I never… looked into it.” His voice sounded rough.

Yan frowned in puzzlement. How was it that Ben had managed to leave the Order, _twice_ , during his career and yet still remain ignorant of his birth family?

“I did, before we came here,” Sy said. When Jaster raised an eyebrow at him, Sy shrugged. “It seemed prudent to get as much information as I could. Obi-Wan, you were born on a planet called Stewjon. The Stewjoni greatly honor their Force sensitives. When your birth parents discovered that you were Force sensitive, they took you to a Soothsayer where you were tested and your fortune was divined. The Jedi Seeker who brought you to the Temple noted that your people had proclaimed that you were destined for the Order, and by that token they renamed you Obi-Wan Kenobi, to fit your future destiny. ‘Obi’ in Stewjoni means ‘star’, and ‘Wan’ means ‘hearth’ or ‘home’. The emphasis is on protection and warmth. ‘Ken’ means something like ‘clan’ or ‘village’. So, ‘Star of Home and Hearth, of the Clan-village of Stars’.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth dropped into a small, awed ‘o’, while Ben just buried his face in both hands. Waxer knelt down next to Ben’s chair and hugged him close. He whispered something in Ben’s ear that Yan couldn’t catch. 

The rest of them watched with worry, or false calm in Sy’s case. 

Sy turned his attention back to Obi-Wan. “If you truly desire to leave the Order and no longer be a Jedi, we would all work together to make sure that you are in a place where you’re happy.”

Before Obi-Wan could say anything, Ben started laughing. Yan had never in his life heard a more bitter, mirthless sound. 

“The absolutely insane thing is that you aren’t lying,” Ben muttered, almost to himself. “You actually _believe_ that.” He shook his head and dropped his hands to stare up at the ceiling. Two tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes. 

A deep well of dread opened in Yan’s stomach. 

_Oh, Qui-Gon_ , he thought absently. _What did you do?_ Hard on the heels of that thought was, _and where the sith-hells was I?_

“ _Ad_ , I need you to explain that,” Jaster said tightly. He didn’t have his hand on his blaster yet, but from the tension in his body it was a close thing. Jango looked downright murderous.

There was that bitter not-laugh again as Ben wiped his eyes and scraped together some semblance of composure.

“The _first_ time I left the Order, I was twelve,” Ben said. The smile held no more humor than his laugh had and his eyes were red and watery. “I aged out. What that term means, _buir_ , is that an initiate has hit the upper age limit for being accepted as a padawan. Except that I didn’t even get to that point. Aging out is _supposed_ to happen at thirteen. I lost my temper in a duel, one that Master Yoda had set up so that I could show off to prospective masters. There’s a tournament, or there was.” He rolled his eyes and waved his hand, promptly dismissing the point. “It didn’t matter. No master was interested in me, and Ma-- the one who became my master was adamantly against taking me on. He told me I was too angry, that I was destined to Fall. Taking me on as a padawan would only add me to a kill-on-sight list once the inevitable happened. My showing was so shameful that I was forced to leave for the AgriCorps months early. They didn’t even wait for my thirteenth birthing day. They didn’t ask me where I might want to go, or contact my birth family, or even mention that I _could_ do those things. I wasn’t even escorted to the spaceport on my way out.”

Yan had to put his tea cup aside before he ended up breaking it. He tried to release his rage, to breathe through it.

 _Emotion, yet peace. Emotion, yet peace_.

“What…” Sy had to visibly stop himself from finishing that question.

“Later, I suspected that it was meddling on Master Yoda’s part, to put me in the path of my prospective master, who’d been assigned to the same planet for a mission.” Ben twitched in Waxer’s hold. It might have been a shrug. “I suppose it worked. Eventually. After the pirates and the mine and the aborted bombings, I was accepted as a padawan learner. I’d proven myself despite my emotional tendencies.”

Before Yan could come up with _anything_ to say to that lunacy, Ben continued.

“Then I left the Order again, a year later. I told all of you some of this already.” Ben made another jerking spasm of a gesture, a parody of his normal grace in conversation. “There was a civil war. The children of both factions had banded together to end it. My master was following orders, taking a wounded Jedi back to the Temple. I wanted to stay. Because children were dying. My master warned me, I could choose to leave the Order and stay, but there would be _consequences_.” He spat out the last word like it was poison. “I told him I had to stay and help. He took my ‘sabre and left. I spent almost a year after that fighting a guerrilla war with children. I was thirteen, and then fourteen. I was one of the oldest ones there. Most didn’t live past ten. We lived in the sewers, because it was the only place the adults wouldn’t go.”

Incandescent rage clawed at Yan’s heart. Where the _kriff_ was the council? And Qui-Gon! How was that _in any way_ an acceptable idea to him?

“Tell me a name, _vod’ika_ ,” Jango ground out. “I’ll rip them apart.” 

Cody held on to Obi-Wan, looking about two seconds from running off with him. Helix and Boil had a hand on the youngling as well; clearly, they’d help. 

Sy was doing a far better job than Yan was of maintaining his calm, but he felt wounded in the Force. 

Ben just shook his head and grinned, an expression that was pained and vicious in equal measure. “We won the war. The Young forced their elders to the negotiation table. And then Cerasi was killed in the crossfire of an attack after that. She was one of three of us who led the Young. Nield, the third of our triumvirate, blamed me. I was to be tried for her death. The peace was falling apart. I contacted the Order, I begged my master to return and help. He did. I humbled myself before my master and I was allowed to return to the Order, although it took several months more to prove that I was worthy of being taught. No master would touch me. I was on _probation_ , you see, to make sure that I was committed to the Order.”

Yan wanted to be sick. He wanted to go straight to the High Council and throttle all of those idiots before they could have the chance to do _this_. No matter what dangerously stupid decisions that Qui-Gon had made with is padawan, the Council of Reassignment should have followed up, and then the High Council, as well. _None of this_ should have been allowed to happen. 

“Just shy of ten years was all it took to turn this,” Ben waved at Sy and Yan, “into what I experienced.” He opened his mouth to speak and then shook his head, dumbfounded. “Both of you had left the High Council by that point.”

 _Both?_ Yan flinched with shock. 

“I tried to fix it when I got my chair on the Council,” Ben continued, and _Force_ , there was another thing Yan had to think about. “But the war… the war _ate_ at us, all of us. Knights and Masters were dying in droves, and their padawans were left orphans. Or killed on the front lines, themselves. My own padawan’s padawan joined our battalion on the front when she was fourteen. So much death for a Force sensitive child to bear. Many left the Order, and none of us had the time or the resources to do more than simply watch them go.”

Ben waved a hand and dropped it on his knee with a solid _thunk_. The tears kept coming, though if Yan hadn’t seen the shine of them on Ben’s cheek, he wouldn’t have known. Ben certainly didn’t seem to notice them. Waxer’s head was buried in Ben’s shoulder, and his _vod’e_ looked shattered.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jaster said, his voice gone deadly quiet. 

“Don’t, _buir_.” Ben sounded exhausted beyond measure.

“ _Why?_ Why shouldn’t I? Give me one good reason, because from where I’m looking, a quick blaster shot to the head would solve a lot of damn future problems!” Jaster glared at Ben.

Yan let out a long sigh and said, “Because the future is always in motion.” For a moment, he didn’t know if he should feel glad for that or murderous.

Ben nodded towards him. “That. The people responsible for what happened to me aren’t those people yet. And maybe they never will be. A lot happened, happens, in the next ten years, and it would be shortsighted to destroy future allies for the sake of potentially bad mistakes they might make years from now.”

For whatever reason, most of the _vod’e_ at least glanced at Yan, and then, oddly, to Jango. 

That feeling of dread was back in the pit of Yan’s stomach, almost strong enough to drown out the anger and sadness. 

The little time travelers had always been a bit wary of him, though less than they had been of Qui-Gon. Yan had never wanted to know his future, and he’d requested that Sy never tell him. Sy had been relieved at that. Now Yan had to wonder if Sy had more than one reason to feel that way. 

Sy…

Yan glanced sharply over at his oldest and dearest friend, because Sy had gone very, very quiet.

“See how it creeps in,” Sy said absently. His voice sounded distant and slow, as if he were speaking in his sleep. “Like oil into cracks, tainting everything it touches.”

The hair on the back of Yan’s neck stood on end. He’d been so upset, so frightfully _angry_ that he hadn’t noticed the familiar twist in the Force of Sy’s visions. 

The vision held Sy stiff in its grasp, and his fingers had gone white knuckled with the effort of digging into the tabletop. Without hesitation, Yan wrapped an arm around him. Not that Sy seemed to notice. He was too lost in his vision.

“Master Sy?” Obi-Wan’s voice was high and scared. Boil added his own embrace to the one Cody had on the youngling. 

The rest of the table looked on in horror as Sy saw whatever fresh hell the Cosmic Force chose. 

“The Dark,” Sy said in that same eerie, vacant voice. “It is _insidious_. I can see it rubbing off, like ash, gently, gently Darkening everyone and everything, until even the Temple is a hollow, twisted thing.”

His expression spasmed, as if the sheer threat of what he was Seeing had broken through his paralysis for a moment.

Yan wrapped Sy in his Force presence, offering what comfort and stability he could. He didn’t try to pull Sy back from his vision; they’d learned long ago that such an attempt only ended poorly for the both of them. Better to be an anchor, a tether for Sy to follow back once the Force was done with him.

For a moment, Yan cursed the prohibition on a true pair bonding. Perhaps it would have been able to help.

“It’s a game. There are so many moving pieces. Too many layers… if I could just _See_ it…”

Sy’s breath caught in his chest.

“No,” Yan said, shaking his head. “Don’t go too far, Sy.” 

Madness and soul death were two things that the Temple Healers had warned him of, long ago when Sy’s visions had first come to him. They were so strong and terrible; Yan and Master Lene had gone out of their minds with worry. Yan didn’t want to consider what would happen to Sy if he overreached while someone was actively working to cloud their activities in the Force as a Sith Lord might.

It was a pointless plea. Sy likely couldn’t even hear him.

Sy held out one hand, reaching into empty air. His face went waxen and the whites were showing all around his eyes.

“ _There_ ,” he muttered. “His influence corrodes, eating at everything Light. The Temple is already beset on all sides. There is only the barest trace of ash now, but it will build and build until the whole Temple is a pyre. He means to kill us all, and _oh_ this is the start of it.” 

Then Sy slumped over in Yan’s arms.

“Sy.” Yan pulled him close. Gently, very gently. A dozen different kinds of upset roared through him. But he was a Master Jedi, and no emotion ruled him. He let it flow through him and away as he took care of his dear friend. 

Helix was already by their side, gently moving Sy’s head around to get a look at him as soon as he was settled.

“‘Nough, Helix, ‘m fine,” Sy muttered, weakly batting at him.

“ _I officially karking hate it when Jedi say that_ ,” Helix snapped. 

That made Sy huff out a quiet laugh. It ended on a groan when Helix shone a light in his eyes.

“It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, Helix,” Sy reiterated. He didn’t make any move to sit up, but he did let Yan in through most of his shields. Yan poured energy into him, Force healing what he dared to.

“It sure looked bad,” Helix growled out as he took Sy’s pulse.

Sy closed his eyes and shook his head. “I just… edged around it.”

“That makes no sense,” Jaster said flatly.

“But it does, though,” Ben said. He sounded significantly more settled. It was probably his crisis training and experience. Yan spared a moment to be grateful for that. He was too occupied with helping to get Sy mentally back on his feet to actually talk about what Sy said he’d seen. “If you think of the events in the future as an oil spill, like he said. A pool of Darkness that one could walk around and perhaps guess about how deep it is…”

“... By what sinks into it,” Cody completely for him grimly.

The silence was fraught. Helix held on to Sy’s hand, brushing a thumb over his knuckles, while Yan kept Sy wrapped in his arms. 

“How did I not see that kind of meddling?” Ben asked, though it sounded more like he was asking himself rather than anyone in particular. “How did none of us see it? During the war, the Force had become clouded. It was muddled everywhere. Darker, too. Especially on Coruscant.”

“How do you hunt any dangerous predator?” Jango asked just as rhetorically. “You hem it in, until it can only choose the path you set out for it. You weaken it as it runs, and then you kill it when it’s down.”

 _That_ was utterly terrifying. He was right.

Sy was still weak in Yan’s arms and minutely trembling, but he was awake and aware. Shockingly. Yan pulled back his mind, and attempted to shore up Sy’s shields a bit more. The Force exhaustion wasn’t as extreme as it could have been. Sy still needed to rest.

“You should go to bed,” Yan said the moment he could devote brain power into speaking again.

“Seconded,” Helix said.

“No. It’s important that I stay here and talk to you all,” Sy answered firmly. He tried to sit up, but Yan effortlessly held him in place. 

“Master Sy, I’m scared,” Obi-Wan said softly.

“We’ve got you, Cadet,” Cody murmured to him. The rest of the _vod’e_ clustered around them, split between Obi-Wan and Ben. 

“How much of what happened with the Order was engineered?” Ben asked, clearly still working on the problem at hand. He had one arm crossed over his chest and the other hand rubbed at his chin. “Some of it had to be happenstance, but how much? And how would that sort of wide scale attack even be executed?”

“Master Dooku’s strike team on Korda VI,” Jaster said. “The Senate sent them. It was a mix up. Would have been a slaughter.” Like Ben, his tone had shifted to something more level and calculating. Whatever personal grievances Ben’s story had brought up had been pushed to the wayside in favor of strategizing. 

“And it wasn’t the first, in our past,” Ben mused. “It wouldn’t even have been the _worst_. Not by a long shot.”

A snarl twisted at Yan’s lips. “That is _shameful_. We are Jedi. We should not be scraping and bowing to an obviously corrupt body of government, and if _that_ sort of thuggery is what we are reduced to--”

“Doo.” Sy spoke softly, but it was enough to remind Yan to rein in his temper and release his anger to the Force. What had already happened was in the past, and that which had only been seen in visions could yet be changed.

_Emotion, yet peace._

Yan let go of his upset. It would not serve him here. His grievances were not so easily dealt with. Plans and calculations and inferences raced through his mind as he sorted out the problem at hand. 

“If I were a Sith Lord, how would I destroy the Jedi,” he mused to himself. 

For whatever reason, that made all of the _vod’e_ twitch, and made Ben clench his jaw in a tight grimace. 

“Unsavory, I know,” Yan admitted dryly, “but a useful thought exercise. The Jedi have many weaknesses, individually and as an Order. Like oil spreading into cracks, you said? The cracks had to be there to begin with. No being is perfect, and every sentient is a balance of Light and Dark. One need only tip the scales.”

“The Senate appears to be the start of it,” Sy said. He _sounded_ better, though he hadn’t yet moved out of Yan’s arms. That was more than fine with Yan. His presence was very welcome, for both their sakes’. 

Yan shook his head. “No. The Senate isn’t the driving force, it’s merely a tool. Thus, we cannot look at what the Senate _gains_ , we must look at how it can be leveraged.”

“Money,” Jaster offered.

“Bureaucracy,” Sy added.

“Scandal. The holy trinity of politics,” Yan said with mild disgust. “The Senate can order the Jedi to do what it deems necessary. That applies to knights and masters. But they would have, _should have_ , no say in how initiates and padawans are treated, and the High Council should regulate all of that.”

“It is connected.” Sy shook his head. “Where the knights and masters are assigned dictates what resources are available to manage padawans and initiates. An increase in demand on knights, if acquiesced to, could create a shortage of personnel to watch over younglings.”

“And find new ones. Less available masters and knights means less going on Search for Force sensitive children, which means less incoming Jedi. Do it over a long enough period of time, and the change would go mostly unnoticed,” Yan said, finishing Sy’s thought. “The lack of oversight and guidance taints the process, creating undue hardship on the next generation. That is bad enough for any group, but for _Force sensitives_ , it is disastrous. For a child who can _feel_ the emotions of those around them, neglect or even regular hardship would be particularly difficult to deal with. The effect would snowball.” 

He turned his attention to Ben, whose face was ashen and tight with upset. 

“You came from a war,” Yan stated. “How many Jedi Fell in the time leading up to that war, and then during? What was the attrition rate for padawans, and _where did those Jedi and padawans go_?”

Ben was silent for a very long moment. Whatever was going on in his head was impossible to discern. The _vod’e_ were less guarded, though there was only so much Yan could read from their general mien of anxiety.

“It might be wiser for me not to say,” was the eventual reply.

Drat. 

Yan held back his annoyance. A response like that could only mean that Ben doubted Yan, and possibly Sy’s, allegiances. If not currently, then at some point in the future. 

The temptation to shake the truth out of Ben was strong. He repressed it. 

“So I am back to working based only on my suppositions,” Yan muttered, perhaps a bit grumpily. He shook his head. “The High Council should be acting as if they are under attack _right now_. First, they need to trace funds. Not just what the Jedi receive from the Senate, though I know that is vastly outweighed by what the Service Corps generate for the Order. But also taking note of which senators vote and lobby in which direction and where _they_ get their money from. Someone needs to go through all the incident reports involving loss of life, and trace who benefits the most from _that_. Then there is the moral war…”

“The what?” Cody asked. He was still tightly wrapped around Obi-Wan. On the bright side, he looked mildly less inclined to kidnap the youngling.

Yan raised an eyebrow to Cody. “The Jedi are seen by most Republic citizens as keepers of law and order. One way to destroy them, us, would be to tarnish that image. A difficult feat, to be sure, but not impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible with the Force, and the Sith Lord working against us most certainly has that,” Sy added. 

There were huge chunks of this puzzle that Yan wasn’t seeing and it was driving him to distraction.

“We don’t have enough information to work offensively, yet,” Sy said. He shifted his hand in Helix’s hold to get a tighter grip and then pulled himself upright.

Helix looked like he’d bitten into a citrus-sour, and kept a hand on Sy’s shoulder to help steady him. He nodded towards the table. “Tea?”

Yan didn’t bother waiting for Sy’s response. He just handed him his cup. The look that Sy gave them both was a mix of gratitude and sheepishness. 

“Thank you,” he murmured into his drink.

Waxer had loosened his hold on Ben, probably because Ben looked like he’d gone straight into planning mode. 

“Korda VI has to have something to do with it,” Ben said as he rubbed his chin. “Why else would the Force have sent us there?”

“Traditionally, the Mandalorians are enemies of the Jedi,” Wooley offered. 

Jaster shrugged. “In the past, yes. It’s settled into a comfortable mutual disrespect and disregard in the last couple centuries.”

“Until now,” Jango pointed out with a nod towards Yan and Sy. 

“In our timeline, _buir_ died on Korda VI, though no one suspected any Jedi involvement. At least, not that I was aware of,” Ben said with a frown. “But then at Galidraan…” He shot a guilty glance at Jango and then Yan. 

“What happened,” Jango asked in a low growl.

Ben shook his head. “It’s…” He winced. “It won’t happen in this timeline. For multiple reasons. But after that… there were no _Haat Mando'ad'e_ left. Just Jango.”

He looked at Jango apologetically.

Jango’s eyebrows drew together and his mouth opened in shock, or denial. As that statement sank in, his face went ashen. 

“Oh,” Jango said quietly. “Was this before or after I made the _vod’e_?”

Alarm rang down Yan’s spine. He could feel Sy stiffen under the arm he still had wrapped around him.

The _vod’e_ were clones of _Jango_. Oh, Force. 

“Before,” Ben said.

“Did I want to rebuild the _Haat Mando’ad’e_?” Jango asked.

All of the _vod’e_ winced hard at that. Ben just looked incredibly sad.

“It is unlikely,” Ben said.

Cody exchanged a look with Waxer.

“We don’t think so,” Waxer said, speaking for the group. “We were made for the Jedi.”

Jaster put his face in his hands. 

“The Jedi,” Yan said grimly. “Who become generals in a war against the Sith.”

He felt sick. 

Jango stood up and walked over to stare at a wall. He crossed his arms and radiated confusion, upset, and anger into the Force.

“The war wasn’t against the Sith,” Cody said, sounding a little reluctant. 

“Not directly,” Ben agreed. “But they were there.”

“You had chips in you,” Jango said. “I made an army of clones and I put slave chips in you all, and turned you into soldiers.”

“No, _ori’vod_.” Ben shook his head firmly. “Another version of you with decades of different experiences. And he didn’t commission the _Vod’e_ , he was just the template. This is not on you, not in any way.”

“If we can’t be upset at the Jedi who were reckless assholes to Ben in his past and this timeline’s future, then you aren’t allowed to take the blame for things that you haven’t done yet, either,” Helix snapped. 

“Karking time travel,” Jaster groaned. 

That made Obi-Wan giggle weakly from his perch snuggled up on Cody’s lap. 

“One day, I would deeply appreciate it if you would _explain all of this_ to me,” Yan said to Ben pointedly. Ben just gave him a resigned look. “But since that day is not today, we’ll have to make do.”

“I’ll talk to the Council,” Sy said. He waved a hand at Ben. “And not just about shoring up our defenses against outside meddling. What happened to you during your padawanship _should not ever_ happen. I know that I’ll have support from Masters Plo, Kit, and Yaddle -- at the very least -- for instituting some safeguards to ensure that it doesn’t. The current head of the Crèches doesn’t like me, but he isn’t unreasonable. I, or perhaps Plo, can likely win him over.”

The look of mild puzzlement that Ben gave him was heartbreaking and enraging in equal measure. 

Yan privately resolved to become more of a busybody in his former padawans’ lives. It was probably a good thing that Qui-Gon was on Coruscant, thousands of lightyears away. The temptation to beat some sense into him in the salle was overwhelming.

A thought occurred to him. 

“Master Sifo-Dyas,” he said, turning to Sy. “Would you be so kind as to pay my former padawan a visit upon your return to the Temple? Perhaps check up on my grand-padawans as well?”

Sy gave him a sly sideways look. “Since the last I heard, Rael was still dithering over choosing his first padawan and Feemor was out on a mission, I’m going to assume you mean Qui-Gon and Xanatos?”

“I think perhaps they might benefit from some non-standard ‘sabre training. And perhaps some additional meditation on the merits of mindfulness and forethought.” 

What the kriffing _sith-hells_ Qui-Gon was thinking, leaving a _child_ in a warzone -- an _unarmed child_ no less -- Yan had no idea. But it was exactly that kind of ‘the Force will provide’ banthashit that attempted to excuse the lack of proper planning and consideration of others. That kind of thinking needed to be curbed, and quickly. Preferably, before Qui-Gon started regularly taking Xanatos out on missions.

Sy mused on that for a moment, and then nodded. “Qui-Gon wouldn’t likely agree to additional training from me, but I’ll get your brother-padawan to help. As Battlemaster, Master Drallig will not be so easily ignored.”

“Excellent plan, my dear High Councilor.” Yan smirked at him. 

“Brother-padawan?” Jaster asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

Waxer and Boil exchanged some looks too; Yan got the feeling that this interaction had more to do with Yan’s pet name for Sy than anything else. Ah, well. 

“Master Cin Drallig and I were both padawans of Master Yoda,” Yan explained. “We are, in effect, siblings. Our relationship has never been close, but we share an accord on the love of martial prowess.”

“Ah.” Jaster sat back in his chair and looked to be musing over that connection.

Jango rejoined them at the table, though he still felt frustrated.

The new and awful information about Qui-Gon’s future decisions gave Yan the somewhat irrational urge to check on all of his lineage. Rael had been in touch. Qui-Gon and Xanatos were still at the temple. He’d sent a message to Feemor, but he’d been out of contact with the Temple in general for several weeks. 

Sy sipped at his tea. Helix finally gave up motherhenning and went back to his seat. The room was heavy with tension and things no one quite wanted to say.

“You never did answer my question, Obi-Wan,” Sy said eventually. “Do you still want to be a Jedi?”

“I do,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “But… you said we left the Order.” He looked at Ben.

“I did,” Ben said with a nod. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want to be a Jedi. It was because I felt the Force had willed me to act, and I could not ignore it. I don’t regret staying with the Young, but I am deeply grateful that I had the chance to rejoin the Order and prove myself worthy of being a knight.”

“Even with everything else that happened?” Jaster asked.

Ben nodded.

“For all that we had a difficult beginning, my master and I grew to be one of the best teams in the Temple,” Ben said. “Our bond was the strongest anyone had seen in years, and our success rate was spectacular. We saved each other, over and over a hundred times. He taught me to be the person I am today, to strive to be an endless wellspring of compassion, and to love all those around me. I cared for him… very much.” He swallowed roughly, and scrubbed at his eyes. “I cannot rightly decide if I would choose him again or not. The good moments, I treasure beyond compare. And the bad… I do my best to forget. But I do not regret my choices.”

Yan quietly resolved that young Obi-Wan would never be put in the position to have to make those choices himself. Things would be different, this time around.

Ben reached over and took Obi-Wan’s tiny hand in his own.

“I think,” he said quietly, “that as much as you would love spending time with your _vod’e_ , you would feel that there is something missing in your life if you did not stay with the Order. And it need not be an all or nothing affair. There will be visits and holo calls.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’ll be sad to go.”

“And we’ll be sad to see you leave,” Cody said, squeezing Obi-Wan tight. “But none of us would stop you from doing what you thought was right.”

“Even if we might want to carpet bomb the area in front of you before you got there,” Wooley muttered as he prodded at his dinner with his fork.

Yan snorted. Jango and Jaster exchanged a wry look.

The rest of the meal passed in relative quiet. Cody never was quite able to foist Obi-Wan back into his own chair. Neither of them seemed terribly upset by this. Waxer repositioned his chair to sit snug next to Ben’s, and the two leaned into each other while they picked at their food. Small talk was made, but no-ones’ heart was really in it.

Yan couldn’t stop thinking about everything that Ben had let slip about their future. There was so much to account for, and so very little solid fact to go on. Plans would have to be made. A ridiculous number of plans. Fortunately, Sy was good at that sort of thing. Between the two of them, they’d be able to figure out something. 

When dessert had come and gone, Obi-Wan had looked up to Sy with wide, hopeful eyes and asked, “Can we stay ‘nd watch a holoshow? Please?”

Sy visibly hesitated. The desire to indulge his charge on the last night of their visit clearly was at war with his obvious exhaustion. He’d barely touched his meal after that vision, despite Yan’s silent and pointed urging for him to get some calories into him.

“We could sit on the couch. It’d be real com-for-ble.” Somehow, Obi-Wan’s gaze got even more pleading. 

“Alright,” Sy said, giving in. 

Before Yan knew it, he and the rest of them had been dragged off to the sitting room and arranged to Obi-Wan’s liking. Which meant that most of them were crammed onto the large couch there, with Sy and Ben shoved in the middle, and _vod’e_ piled on anywhere there was room. Yan ignored any possible urging towards his own placement and simply took his seat next to Sy. Since this only earned him some mild nudging from the youngling, that was probably where he was supposed to go anyways.

“Oh sith-hells, no,” Jango said with a wave at them. “I’ll get the video, but I like to be able to move, thanks. I’ll take a seat to the side.”

Obi-Wan stuck out his tongue at him, but didn’t argue. 

“That was rude,” Sy said half-heartedly.

“Sorry, _ori’vod_ ,” Obi-Wan sang to Jango in a tone that said he wasn’t sorry, not even a little bit.

He shoved Jaster near the edge of the people pile, on the floor next to Boil, and then raced off into one of the side rooms.

“I’ll never get over how he organizes his troops,” Jaster muttered, amused.

The _vod’e_ huffed and snickered in amusement.

Then Obi-Wan was back, dragging two large blankets behind him. Just one of them was bigger than he was, and Yan could clearly feel how he used the Force to help him manage the bulk. 

“Here, _ad’ika_ , I’ve got you,” Jango said, moving to help him. 

“One over everyone on the couch, ‘nd one over everyone on the floor.” Obi-Wan pointed to where he wanted them, and then proceeded to fuss over the edges of the blankets as Jango snapped them into place.

“Force, good luck, Sy,” Yan muttered quietly. 

Sy elbowed him lightly in the side. “I’m not the only one who’s going to need it,” he answered dryly.

“It takes an _aliit_ ,” Jaster said, smothering a snicker.

“To do what?” Obi-Wan asked as he tucked everyone in.

“Nothing, _ad’ika_. Where are you going to sit?” Jaster asked.

“On top!” Obi-Wan crowed happily, and then proceeded to climb all over them all to wriggle his way to the center of the pile of people on the couch. Once there, he stretched out, sprawling over Yan, Sy, and Ben. 

Strange as it was, Yan was bizarrely comfortable. He could feel the _vod’e_ relax around him as Jango got the holodrama set up. Sy all but melted into Yan’s side. Within minutes of the show starting, he slipped into a light doze. From Obi-Wan’s smug glance, that was probably part of his plan.

As much as Yan had wanted to spend his night doing other pleasant things with Sy, this was very nice as well. It reminded him of a few happy days in the crèches with Sy and Jocasta. 

Most unusual. 

But… good. 

He deliberately put aside his worries and took his own master’s advice and focused on the present. There would be time enough for planning later. For now, he would enjoy this while he could.

\--


	55. Chapter 55

\--- POV: Waxer Mereel ---

The entire network was melancholy. All eight of them would miss the youngling, and they all knew it. The Cadet and his Master would be departing soon, and no one wanted them to. Their ship was being fueled up and shortly they would all be making the trip to the spaceport to see their pair of guests off.

_Maybe I should've insisted we adopt Obi-Wan properly;_ Waxer thought wryly to himself.

Somewhat to his own surprise, he realised he might well miss Master Sifo-Dyas, too. The _jetii_ 's dry humour and generally relaxed demeanour had been surprisingly easy to acclimate to. The others agreed with him, too, Waxer could feel it. Even the Commander, who was known to take a while to truly warm up to anyone who wasn't a _Vod_.

Their _buir_ and _ori'vod_ had gotten into their collective good graces quite quickly and easily, but Master Dooku ... hadn't. That had taken the better part of three months. Nor had Master Sifo-Dyas, though he'd managed to win them over rather faster than his _riduur_ , having had the advantage of already being accepted by Mace, General _Buir_ , the Cadet, and Master Dooku, when he'd arrived.

Of course, it had also helped that, by then, he and his _vod'e_ had gotten used to the idea that the _dar'jetii_ that had been their enemy in their own timeline was suddenly an ally and -- possibly -- a friend. At least more or less.

"Alright, _vod'ike_ ," Jango prompted them, breaking Waxer back out of his thoughts, "come on. Finish your meals, and then we'll go spend time with the _jet'ika_ before it's time for his master to take him home."

General Kenobi gave them a knowing look. "This is surely not the last time we'll see them, _vod'e_ ," he said quietly.

"Of course it's not," Crys agreed. "If they can't come here, we'll go visit them."

"Right," Boil agreed immediately.

"How much of an uproar do you think the Temple would be in, if we just showed up?" Longshot asked, seemingly idly. Waxer could see the smirk in his eyes.

Jango groaned. "We're trying to put an end to the animosity, not make it worse, _vod'ika_. It's bad enough that that Clan Rook _di'kut_ tried to poison Master Dooku. We don't need to antagonise the Temple _jetiise_ more."

General Kenobi chuckled. "Oh, no doubt the entire Temple would turn out to spectate and the Temple Guard would be on high alert," he said, "but so long as Master Dooku is present, it should be fine. A group accompanied by a Jedi Master in good standing would be treated as the Master's guests, though a group of _Mando'ad'e_ would put the whole of the Order a bit on edge."

Commander Cody nodded. "That sounds like a fair assessment," he put in. "Though security at the Temple has never been all that tight."

"We can discuss that later, Commander," Longshot suggested. "Let's enjoy the last couple of hours we have with the Cadet."

As if in answer, their door chimed and there was simultaneously an enthusiastic tug on the network.

"Don't look now, _vod_ , but I think the Cadet's found us," Wooley, joked, standing to go let the little one and the masters who were sure to be accompanying him into the suite.

All of them turned in their seats to watch as best they could, and were treated to the sight of Wooley getting tackled and hugged before they stood and joined their _vod_ by their door to welcome the trio.

"Wooley!" Obi-Wan exclaimed excitedly, his words almost fast enough to tumble over one another, " _Vod'e_! I wann'ed to see you b'fore we have t'go, an'-- an' Master Sy said we cou'd come see if y'were busy or not."

Waxer didn't bother to stifle his amusement, and he could feel the others fighting not to smile, themselves. The network rang with their fondness for the youngling. And, Waxer was pleased to note, the General didn't react to it like he had at the beginning. Kenobi was getting closer to accepting that they weren't about to let him go without a hell of a fight.

"Hmmmm," Wooley pretended to think hard, his presence in the network going playful and teasing. His kyber crystal, in its now-usual place at his hip, seemed to glow just as warmly for all that it wasn't visible, in its presence adjacent to the network. "I don't know, Cadet. Are we busy, _vod'e_?"

"Well," Boil said, catching on quickly and helping tease the little one gently, "we _were_ planning to clean our armour."

Waxer watched Master Sifo-Dyas half-heartedly try to hide an amused smile. "Taking care of one's equipment is important," he agreed.

" _Vod'e_ ," the Cadet tried again, his voice almost a whine, plaintive, "come on, pleeeeeease?"

Waxer joined in the joking. "We could always let the _jet'ika_ help us," he suggested.

Obi-Wan huffed at them. "I cou'd," he agreed, sounding like he was about to unleash one of those devastating pouts of his on them, "but Master Sy said I cou'd do my lessons after we take off. And cleaning armour is like a lesson."

General Kenobi chuckled. "The youngling has a point, _vod'e_ ," he said, lending his support to Obi-Wan.

Wooley conceded the point with a tilt of his head. "Come in, then," he suggested. "We'll talk and decide what we can do that isn't a lesson, Obi-Wan. The masters can have tea together or something."

Master Sifo-Dyas nodded. "That sounds lovely."

General Kenobi brightened. "It does. Perhaps you'd be interested to try one of the teas my _vod'e_ picked out for me. They're quite different from those I'd gotten accustomed to, back home, but a very nice experience nevertheless."

Master Dooku smiled. "If you wish to share one of them with us, I would certainly not be against trying it. A good tea deserves to be appreciated."

"Precisely," General Kenobi agreed.

Waxer shook his head. "You _jetiise_ and your tea. Caf is so much better."

Master Sifo-Dyas scoffed right back. "Caf is so utilitarian. Flat and boring."

Kenobi shuddered. "And it smells... wrong."

The Cadet added his own agreement. "I don't like it either, Ben. But Master Doo's cake made it taste good. Somehow."

"That cake," Longshot groaned.

"That cake was amazing," Boil agreed, a degree of awe in his eyes that was almost enough to make Waxer jealous. Luckily for his _riduur_ , he understood and agreed.

Master Dooku smirked. "It is always nice to hear such compliments," he said dryly, his voice betraying almost nothing, but everyone in the room could tell he was very pleased.

"C'mon, _vod'e_ ," Obi-Wan prompted them, tugging at Wooley and reaching out for Boil, who had drifted close enough. "They c'n make tea. We c'n play th' meditation game."

"Isn't that like lessons too, Cadet?" Crys asked, making Obi-Wan stop in his tracks briefly to think.

Master Sifo-Dyas cleared his throat, holding a package of some kind of supplies that was about the size of one of Helix's lightest portable med kits out to them and still very badly hiding his amusement. "If you wish, you could spend some time colouring with your _vod'e_ , youngling," he suggested. "I trust that is far enough from being a 'lesson' to be acceptable."

"Oooh! Good idea, Master Sy!" The Cadet seized on the suggestion immediately. "Waxer, will you help me draw Hawk Eyes? I can't ever get him right."

And wasn't that a bit of a punch to the gut. Swallowing against the way that request made the entire network go a bit tighter with remembered sadness, he tousled the little one's hair. "Sure, Cadet. Of course I will."

The Commander took the bundle Master Sifo-Dyas was still holding out to them with a nod of thanks and turned back towards their sitting room. "You always draw Captain Rex, Cadet?"

"No, but he's the most fun. He makes things go _boom_ , and then there's _fire_ ," Obi-Wan answered, making Longshot snicker.

"We do that too, Cadet," Crys pointed out.

"That's why you're my favourites too," Obi-Wan answered with a bright grin, and sat himself down in the center of their sitting room floor. His expression very clearly telegraphed 'come join me'.

The three _jetiise_ watched them for a few moments longer, listening in as the youngling started explaining what was in the bundle and arranging them into positions of his liking on the floor, then disappeared into the dining area to make their tea.

The bundle that Master Sifo-Dyas had handed them contained all the supplies they could possibly have needed, as it turned out. The Cadet tugged it eagerly out of Commander Cody's hands, getting an indulgent huff out of him, and started laying everything out on the floor as precisely as they had their armour when they'd painted it.

From there, once they got started, the drawing quickly became more of a collaborative effort than anything else. Waxer got drafted to draw Rex, Commander Cody to draw Kenobi (and Obi-Wan insisted that the General had to have _two_ 'sabres, pushing the correct colours into the Commander's hands), while the rest of them got directed to add in as many _Vod'e_ as they could. Obi-Wan would draw himself. He was good at _that_ part.

It was a very bittersweet kind of thing, Waxer reflected. A kind of physically present and persistent Remembrance. As he and his _vod'e_ worked, occasionally trading places so that they could draw without it being too awkward, a lot of very familiar sets of armour markings took shape, their collective memory lending itself to this sort of work perfectly.

Almost all of the Battalions assigned to the High Generals were represented. The Commander added several of his closest _Vod'e_ ; Waxer recognised Commanders Wolffe, Fox, Gree, and Monnk. Longshot and Crys added several of the 501st's ARC troopers. Fives, Echo, Hardcase, Tup, and Kix made it into the sketch. Helix and Wooley handled their missing 212th troopers; they added Charger, Gregor, Gearshift and Peel to the ranks of troopers arrayed behind Kenobi, Cody, Rex, and the Cadet. Waxer exchanged a look with his _riduur_ and got a nod. The two of them added a few members of the Wolfpack and the Guard, to accompany their respective Commanders, then Commander Ponds and a few _Vod'e_ from Mace's Battalion, as well, for good measure. No _Vod_ deserved to be forgotten, but there was only so much space on the piece of flimsi they had to work with.

And then, long before they were truly ready for it, Master Sifo-Dyas was standing at Commander Cody's shoulder. "It's time to pack up, Obi-Wan," he said quietly.

"Awwwwwwwww, but Master Sy--"

"I'm sorry, little one, but we must go now, or risk losing our assigned departure slot," the Master said firmly.

Obi-Wan seemed to wilt, and got a hug from Commander Cody in response. "Don't worry, Obi-Wan," he reassured the Cadet, "we'll find a way to make sure you can visit again."

Master Sifo-Dyas chuckled. "It is not wise to provoke the Council," he told them, his expression bemused. "I would recommend against spamming the general line again." 

As Commander Cody and the Cadet began packing the art supplies back into the bundle, Crys grinned back. "We don't have to. We can comm Master Gallia, Master Yaddle, or Master Windu, instead."

Master Dooku raised an eyebrow at them. "I don't want to know how you got those comm frequencies," he said firmly. "Don't tell me."

Longshot laughed outright. "Okay, we won't," he conceded.

General Kenobi made a slightly pained face. "They haven't told me either, and I suspect that's for the best."

"Probably, sir," Waxer put in. "How much time do we have to get to the spaceport?"

Master Sifo-Dyas gave him a surprised look, as though he hadn't expected that they would come to see him off. "Approximately an hour. It should be more than enough time."

"Good, then we don't have to scramble," the Commander said with a satisfied nod.

Boil, who'd ended up holding the folded up drawing, offered it to the Cadet. "Here, Obi-Wan. Don't forget your drawing."

The little one crossed his arms and looked up at Boil, meeting the _Vod_ 's eyes. "It's not mine," he said simply. "It's yours. I jus' helped."

Helix cleared his throat. "Don't you want it as a souvenir? To look at and remember this visit?"

"Nope!" The Cadet told them. "I'll remember this forever, and you'll help me. You're my _Vod'e_."

Wooley jumped in. "How about you take a holo of it back with you instead, Cadet? That way we can all have a copy."

Obi-Wan thought that over for a few seconds, then conceded. "Okay. Master Sy, will you do it, please?"

It was the work of a few seconds to spread the flimsi back out on the floor, take the requested holo, and put the drawing safely away in their sleeping quarters. Then they were underway. 

Their _buir_ met them in the courtyard of the palace, in his full armour. It gleamed brightly in the light of the biodome, obviously freshly painted and sealed, and the sight made something in Waxer uncurl. The _beskar'gam_ plates were once again uniformly a dark grey that was almost black, the bright slashes of gold on his chestplate catching the eye and holding it. His bright red pauldrons and cape added a distinctive flash of colour, too, and complemented the red-painted T-visor of his bucket. The sigil of the _Haat Mando'ad'e_ stood out on his left shoulder.

Their _buir_ was dangerous when he wanted to be, and the superficial damage to his armour had only served to remind everyone of that fact. But now that he'd repainted his _beskar'gam_ , it was almost more obvious. The scratches and scuffs, the blaster marks that had lingered for a while after the campaign on Concordia, the everyday wear and tear that came with training often with other _mando'ad'e_ , all of it was gone and it was all the more conspicuous for its absence.

Waxer couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. The newly applied paint was just as much of a statement to the world as anything else that Jaster Mereel did. It hinted at new beginnings and reminded the sector that he still lived.

He almost felt he should salute, fist to heart, as the Headhunters and Grunts did. _Su'cuy gar, Mand'alor._

Their _buir_ was a force to be reckoned with, and the _Vod'e_ all knew it. They'd known it even before he'd re-established that at _Buir_ Az'okk's, in the ring. That experience had only reinforced the near instinctive knowledge that their _buir_ was a fierce fighter. They'd all been able to feel it in him right from the first moments they'd met him, and nothing had happened since to change their minds.

And, Waxer was karking sure, there was no way the tale of the fight between the _Mand'alor_ and the _jetii_ liaison hadn't already spread to practically the whole sector. 

Jango, who'd joined them as they walked through the palace corridors, stepped up to their _buir_ and offered him a half-serious salute of his own, as though he felt the same sense of respect and almost-awe Waxer did, touching his fist to his breastplate.

He got a tilt of their _buir_ 's bucket in response that somehow perfectly communicated his raised eyebrow. " _Ad'ike_ ," he greeted them, then turned to Master Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan. " _Jetii, jet'ika_. I assume you are ready to depart."

Master Sifo-Dyas offered him a shallow bow. "We are, _Mand'alor_ , though we would both prefer to stay a while longer. Unfortunately, the High Council has become rather shrill in their demands for our timely return."

That was news to Waxer. "They've been comming you to make sure you're on schedule?" he asked incredulously.

Master Dooku shrugged. "The High Council as a whole was quite nervous about allowing an initiate as young as Obi-Wan to visit the Outer Rim. The consistent positive reports on the events that transpired during his stay here have calmed them somewhat, but certain members are... anxious to have Master Sifo-Dyas and Obi-Wan back on Coruscant."

Master Sifo-Dyas rolled his eyes expressively. "The lot of them are really overreacting," he grumbled. "As if the two of us and Ben _and the Mand'alor_ wouldn't be sufficient protection."

With a snort, Jango interjected, "I feel like I should be offended that my _vod'ike_ and I were left out of that statement," he said, sounding like he was more amused than anything else, before he shrugged and changed conversational directions. "The unknown can be scary, and it has been centuries since any _jetiise_ dared set foot in our sector."

General Kenobi snorted. "The Council has always been resistant to change. Master Yoda, in particular, can be rigid when he wants."

"Indeed," Master Sifo-Dyas agreed. "But, come, we should get underway."

Waxer almost wanted to protest. Boil wrapped an arm around his shoulders in the network.

He wound up in the second speeder with Helix, Crys, Boil, Longshot and Jango, and, somehow the trip to the spaceport went by in a blink. The knowledge that he'd been that distracted throughout their trip left Waxer feeling a bit wrong-footed. _What happened to paying attention to your surroundings,_ di'kut _? Don't get sloppy,_ he scolded himself.

Refocusing and shoving his thoughts aside as best he could, Waxer climbed out of the speeder to join his _vod'e_ as they all said their final goodbyes. Master Sifo-Dyas' ship stood waiting on the same pad that he had set it down on, Force, a month ago. The time had just sped by, and Waxer wasn't entirely sure what to think about that.

He shook off the thought and joined his _vod'e_ in giving the little one hugs while the _jetiise_ bowed and did their ceremonial formal leavetaking or whatever.

"We'll miss you, Cadet," Longshot said, when they'd finally let him go.

"I'll miss you too, _Vod'e_ ," Obi-Wan answered, a suspicious wobble in his voice.

And then Master Sifo-Dyas shooed the Cadet onto their ship.

The boarding ramp closed with a quiet click that felt oddly final, and Waxer knew that all seven of them would be fighting not to let themselves crash hard, now that their little ball of starshine was leaving them.

_We need to make sure he ends up apprenticed to Master Dooku,_ Waxer decided, consoling himself with the knowledge that that was likely to mean they'd see more of the youngling. Somewhere in the network, even Wooley's kyber crystal radiated a sense of longing, as though it would miss their Cadet just as much as they would, which was confusing.

His _riduur_ put a hand on his armoured shoulder, and Waxer leaned into it. The weight of the touch was a comfort, even if he couldn't feel it against his skin.

When the ship gracefully left the landing pad and arced up into the skies, Master Dooku's face seemed to shutter, going far more expressionless than they'd gotten accustomed to seeing him, of late.

Sensing an opportunity, Waxer took off his bucket long enough to run a gloved hand through his hair -- which desperately needed to be cut, or, better yet, shaved right the kriff off -- then turned to Master Dooku, who was still staring up into the skies after the ship that already passed out of sight. "So, you're going to miss your _riduur_ , huh?" he asked.

"Of course. We've been good friends for decades," Master Dooku answered, a little absently. It was obvious his thoughts were still with the master piloting the ship.

There was that term again. _Good friends._

Jango snickered quietly, clearly realising that they were maneuvering the distracted _jetii_ into something. Their _buir_ didn't outwardly react, but Waxer was sure he was grinning in the safety of his bucket. General Kenobi opened his mouth to speak, doubtless to intercede and rescue his _ba'buir_ from whatever it was he thought they had planned.

Helix beat him to the punch, chiming in with, " _Riduur'e_ normally do miss one another while they're apart."

Master Dooku finally looked away from the ship only he could see and raised an eyebrow at their medic. "That's part and parcel of how friendships work, Helix," he answered, his tone making it clear that he thought Helix was stating the obvious. 

General Kenobi pinched the bridge of his nose. " _Vod'e_ , taking advantage of another's lack of knowledge of your language is generally considered rude," he said firmly, attempting to shut them up.

It would've been quite effective, too, were it not for one thing.

Master Dooku waved him off. "It's alright, Ben. _Riduur'e_ ," he said, stumbling a little bit over the unfamiliar word, "clearly has a meaning similar to what I think of when I say Master Sifo-Dyas is my good friend."

Jango made a slightly strangled sound, and quickly covered it by faking a cough. Master Dooku gave him a questioning look. "Is something the matter, Jango?"

"No, no, not at all, Master Dooku. Your phrasing caught me off guard. Private joke," Jango answered, readily covering for him and Helix as General Kenobi very expressively rolled his eyes at the lot of them.

"Master Dooku," the General said, pointedly giving Waxer a glare and a sharp nudge in the network that equated to a punch to the shoulder, "it appears one of the things that we must work on, if you plan to remain here long term, is your grasp of Mando'a."

"I had planned to do that regardless, Ben," Dooku answered, glancing back and forth between Waxer, Jango, and the General, as though he suspected he was being poked fun at but wasn't sure enough to take any kind of immediate action. "I do appreciate your implied offer of assistance, though."

"Of course, grandmaster. Perhaps my _vod'e_ will assist." Waxer could almost feel Kenobi glaring vibroknives at him. That distinctly wasn't a request, and Waxer was sure they'd pay for the snare they'd laid.

The General's voice telegraphed the resignation and hints of frustration that were clear in the network. No doubt he was worrying about whatever he thought they had forced him into witnessing, and therefore acknowledging, and the potential questions that Master Sifo-Dyas might have to answer once he was back at the Temple.

"Certainly, General," Commander Cody agreed, giving Waxer a look that promised he'd be taking the fall for this.

There was no real danger of the sort of interrogation Kenobi was concerned about, though, in Waxer's considered opinion. Their General wasn't in the Order, in this part of the timeline, and therefore not subject to the Council's authority. And any questions the Council might ask Master Dooku about this were moot, seeing as they'd have to know what to ask. Hells, they'd have to question Master Sifo-Dyas about this conversation to find out it had happened at all, and that would only be possible if Dooku told his _riduur_ about it. Master Sifo-Dyas had been pretty clear about how that sort of interrogation worked, when he'd said he'd defend the Cadet. If the Council didn't ask the right questions, it mattered little whether the answers were true or false; what was hidden would stay that way. And Waxer had personally seen his General lie very effectively while telling nothing but the absolute truth. Often.

But there was no way he was about to say any of that openly. Maybe later, when he discussed this minor victory with his _vod'e_. It would be worth whatever minor retribution Master Dooku chose to send at him and Helix, if they could get the point across to him that, here, on Mandalore, he didn't have to hide. That there was no one here who would begrudge him what happiness his _riduur_ brought him.

\--- POV: Yan Dooku ---

The suite was very empty with Sy and Obi-Wan gone.

It hadn’t even been a full rotation and Yan was already missing them. Both of them, to his mild surprise. As exhausting and challenging as a small child could be, Obi-Wan was radiant in the Force and his disposition was warm and welcoming. 

And Sy. Force, but Yan had forgotten what it was like to spend every day with his dearest friend. It had been years since they’d last had a visit like this. His face hurt from all the smiling he’d done.

He sat and stewed over this as he drank a cup of mild, herbal tea. 

There was so much to think about. Ben and his _vod’e_ had revealed much about their past, and almost none of it was good. Yan had his doubts about whether or not the High Council would act on the intelligence that Sy was bringing them from this trip. They didn’t often listen to him.

Then again… Perhaps that was changing, as well. Master Plo, Master Fisto, Master Windu, and Master Yaddle had all expressed some support to Sy. Even Master Ki-Adi Mundi had voted in favor of the trip, and he was notoriously quite strict. He wasn’t as ruthless as his infamous master, the Dark Woman, but he certainly had picked up a certain measure of her uncompromising nature. Yet he had been willing to allow this visit.

Yan checked his chrono. If he waited another hour, he could be certain that Obi-Wan would be asleep, and that Sy would be free for a comm before bed. 

Part of him selfishly wanted to see his dearest friend again, even though they’d already spent weeks together. The more calculating side of his nature wanted a chance to make some plans. With Sy working on the High Council and Yan watching the situation from Mandalore, they could attack the issues at hand on two fronts. 

He sipped his tea and waited and plotted.

Sometime later, his comm pinged. Sy had beaten him to the punch.

“Doo,” Sy said the moment his holo image popped up.

“Sy,” Yan answered warmly. 

They shared a quiet moment. Sy had only been gone for half a rotation and it already felt like far too long. 

_We will adjust_ , he thought to himself with no little measure of resignation. They were Jedi. They had their duty, and it was something they both believed in.

“The little one is asleep?” Yan asked finally.

“Yes. It was easier than I expected,” Sy said with a huff of laughter. “While he was very, very sad to leave, I think he’s also looking forward to settling back into his own room and seeing his friends and Creche Master Tinna again. He wore himself out, I think.”

A fond smile tugged at Sy’s lips.

“You want to take him on,” Yan observed. It wasn’t that much of a leap.

Sy’s smile turned wry. “You always see through me.” He shifted in place, settling himself into a more comfortable position. He looked tired, as well. Probably left over exhaustion from his vision the previous night. Hopefully, he would be seeking his own rest after this holo. 

“I do,” Sy admitted. “But I don’t think I can do it alone.”

“I’ll help you all I can,” Yan promised softly. Sy didn’t need to ask, and from the grateful look he gave Yan, he was relieved to know that. 

“We may have to be creative in how we present the nature of his padawanship to others.” Sy tapped his fingers on the knuckles of his other hand. “One of us would need to be the official master and the other just… around. Helping.”

“That would work.” Yan considered it. “It may be difficult to manage, with our positions leaving us stationed so far away from each other,” he pointed out. It was an obvious hurdle, but it needed to be brought up.

Sy waved it off. “Our situations will change drastically in the next handful of years. Until then, we can only deal with what we currently are presented with. Obi-Wan isn’t ready to be apprenticed yet.”

“I bet he will be soon, though.” 

In some respects, Obi-Wan was the least childlike five year old that Yan had ever encountered. It was likely a side effect of Obi-Wan’s bonds to his older self and his _vod’e_. All of those memories rattling about in his head had to have an effect aside from increased nightmares. The youngling’s progress in his lessons in the last month alone was astonishing.

If he kept up this pace, Yan expected that he might be ready to begin serious study with a knight in as soon as three years. Maybe less. Eight years old was the minimum age requirement to be accepted as a padawan for baseline humans. Given Obi-Wan’s unique situation and abilities, an exception could probably be successfully lobbied for. 

“I’ll do what I can to prepare on my end, then,” Sy said with a nod.

“You’ll be a wonderful master, Sy.” Yan smiled at him.

“You’re only saying that because you won’t be the one who has to poach Obi-Wan away from Creche Master Tinna.”

Yan did feel a little smug about that. “I’m sure you already have a rapport with her. And as a High Councilor, you’re well equipped to handle all manner of negotiations.”

The look Sy gave him just made his smirk grow. 

“How did the Mereels take the parting?” Sy asked, letting the previous sentiment pass.

Yan tilted his head in a shrug. “They are despondent, but not ready to go charging to raid the Temple, I think.”

He thought about whatever it was that Waxer and Helix had been teasing him about at the spaceport. And they _had_ been teasing him. How, exactly, he still wasn’t sure. 

His expression slipped into a slight frown and he furrowed his brow as he puzzled over it.

Sy just raised an eyebrow at him.

Yan shook his head. “It’s probably nothing. But I really do need to learn the Mandalorian language. The _vod’e_ were teasing me about something after your departure. I’d _thought_ that I knew the meaning of the word they were using but now I’m not so sure.”

“What was it?” Sy asked, reaching for a nearby datapad. “I’ve been working my way through this armor guide that was in our welcome package. It’s surprisingly easy for a lay person to understand, and it’s got a good glossary of terms.”

“ _Riduura_? No, that wasn’t it. _Riduur_ is the singular and _riduur’e_ the plural.”

Yan sipped his tea as Sy searched the book. 

“Oh,” Sy said quietly. He stared at the screen, nonplussed. 

“What?”

“They were calling you _riduur_?” Sy asked, avoiding the immediate explanation.

Yan’s suspicions grew. “They said that you and I were _riduur’e_. From the few times I’ve heard the term in the past, I’d assumed that it was a term of close friendship.”

Sy covered his face with one hand and then started laughing. “It means ‘spouse’,” he said in between chuckles.

“What.” Yan stared at him.

“They think we’re married.” Sy groaned and laughed at the same time and rubbed his face. Then he looked back at the datapad and read, “‘The oaths of _riduurok_ are, _We are one together, we are one apart, we share all things, we will raise warriors._ ’” 

Well. That… did fairly neatly describe their relationship. 

“They know that we can’t--” Yan stopped himself. Of course, he and Sy had explained to them how attachment was frowned on for Jedi. They hadn’t even thought to include a Jedi’s view on marriage. 

Technically it wasn’t disallowed. _Technically_. The problem was the attachment that usually came with marriage. Spouses in most cultures vowed to put each other above all things, and as Jedi, Yan and Sy could not do that. Their duty was to the Force first, always. 

But if those were the Mandalorian vows… they said nothing about that. They only required that the spouses act as one, together or apart. 

“...It’s not inaccurate,” Sy said quietly. Almost shyly.

“No, it is not.” Yan answered Sy’s hopeful look with his own.

The quiet joy in Sy’s eyes was answer enough.

“Well. Is there any special ritual that the Mandalorians partake in?” he asked.

Sy turned his attention back to the datapad. After a moment of quiet reading, he snorted in amusement.

Yan raised an eyebrow at him.

“They exchange armor pieces,” Sy answered, his voice filled with dry humor.

“Ah. Of course. That would explain why Armourer Ardanna was adamant in asking you about what armor you would put me in,” Yan said, finally, _finally_ , putting the pieces together.

“Force, they must have been planning this for weeks.” Sy shook his head.

Those devious little miscreants. Yan was impressed. 

“We would have to wear armor,” Yan said.

Sy shrugged. “Some very valid arguments were brought up in favor of that idea, regardless of exchanges. You are posted on Mandalore for the foreseeable future. Obi-Wan did adopt me into their _aliit_. We could simply start wearing it and see who asks about it. If inquiries are made, we don’t need to mention the oaths that you and I might exchange. After all, we know our priorities, and we aren’t swearing to Mandalore, nor their tenets.”

“Excellent points.” Yan mulled the idea over.

“Obi-Wan declared us his _buir’e_ ,” Sy said.

“He did.”

“Which means the _Haat Mando’ad’e_ at least view us as co-parents.”

Yan closed his eyes. He was torn between laughing and wincing. “They all think we’re married already. Not just the younglings.”

Sy started laughing. Yan joined him after a moment.

It was rather amusing.

_Force_. Decades of successfully dancing around the suspicions of Master Yoda and the Council and whoever else might have been a bit too curious, and after only a month on Mandalore, all of the locals were convinced they were a pair. 

No wonder Jaster had been so cautious about any potential commitment between them.

Which also brought up the question of what other cultural connotations marriage had for the Mandalorians. Jaster hadn’t seemed offended at the idea that Sy and Yan were willing to have a casual arrangement with him. 

“I’ll need to wring a primer on family and clan social expectations out of them during my interrogation of those _vod’e_ ,” Yan muttered. Better to get all of that figured out before he and Sy agreed to do any kind of armor exchange. 

The vows… Well. He and Sy already lived by those rules. Simply saying words wouldn’t change anything about how they treated each other. 

“Let me know how that goes,” Sy said, wiping a lingering tear away from his eye. 

“Of course.” Yan bowed his head to him. “In the meantime, you have a great deal of work to do with the Council.”

Sy’s expression sobered and he nodded. “I do. There’s a lot to go over.” 

There was. Yan had read his preliminary report. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to get them to enact some change?” That was the real question.

To Yan’s surprise, Sy looked thoughtful instead of resigned.

“For some things, yes. For others… I’ll need to work with Mace, Plo, and Kit. I might be able to persuade others, too.”

“Very convenient that Obi-Wan has planned dinners for you with those Councilmembers,” Yan observed dryly.

“He is a devious little one, isn’t he.” Sy smirked. 

“Perhaps you should consider stepping down and letting Obi-Wan take your chair,” Yan said teasingly.

Sy rolled his eyes. “Don’t tempt me. He’d look at them with those wide, sad eyes and hug his plushy and Plo would melt right in his chair.”

Yan chuckled. Sy was probably right. 

They settled into a comfortable silence.

“Thank you for inviting us, Doo,” Sy said eventually.

“Thank you for coming,” Yan answered. “I haven’t had so much fun in years.”

It was true, too. His heart felt lighter. 

Yan loved being a Jedi master and he was always filled with a great sense of _rightness_ and _peace_ when he was able to follow the will of the Force and make an impact on others. He enjoyed his skill and the ability to wield it to best effect, just as he deeply enjoyed the autonomy that being a Jedi granted him. Yan favored _action_ above discussion or repose. 

But these past few weeks had fed something in him that he hadn’t even realized was starving. 

“I will miss you a great deal in these coming months,” he said quietly, holding Sy’s gaze.

“And I, you,” Sy answered. 

Yan’s heart stretched out to him, wistful and wanting all at once. He was prideful enough to think that Sy might feel the same way.

“We will meet again, my dear knight,” Sy said. Unshakeable certainty rang in his words.

Yan nodded at him gravely. “I eagerly await that day. Until then, we will have to content ourselves with comms.” He let a bittersweet smile rest on his lips. 

Sy’s answering smile seemed to reach right into his chest and take hold of his heart.

They would make do with what they could, and savor the moments together that time and duty allowed them. 

\--

\--- POV: Ben Kenobi ---

It was nice to have a chance to meditate. He hadn't in a couple of rotations, in between the various activities everyone had tried to cram into their last few hours together.

He welcomed the chance to think and reflect, and let all of his whirling thoughts settle. In part because he needed it, yes. In part because it was just so strange to think that they'd already been stuck in the past for nearly a full four months. The time had just flown right by, and a lot had happened, but it still seemed like they'd accomplished little, save getting those monstrous chips out of his _vod'e_.

For all that, though, many important things had come to pass. The kark ups during his evaluation by the delegation from the Temple and recent assassination attempts aside, thanks to Master Dooku's actions as official liaison and little Obi-Wan's visit with Master Sifo-Dyas, the relationship between the Temple and the _Mando'ad'e_ was better than it had been in centuries. The Death Watch had been sent packing, with their tails between their legs. Jaster still lived, and his grandmaster hadn't Fallen. The Order was aware that they were being manipulated, and at least attempting to take action to remedy that.

Ben had to admit, that was a far better state of affairs than they'd had to work with in their own timeline.

And yet, despite that, Master Sifo-Dyas' visions were still clearly showing him the Clone Wars. For all that they'd done, for all that they'd changed, they had yet to properly avert that particular galaxy-wide disaster.

On the one hand, that meant they still had a chance to get back to their own timeline. On the other... They had no reasonably reliable way of doing so, and no guarantees whatsoever that such a thing was even possible to achieve. Sure, they'd gotten flung back through time into the past -- without even meaning to, really -- but finding a way to travel forward again...

Ben bit down on a sigh.

His men were likely entirely correct in their assessment of the situation. Realistically, the eight of them were almost certainly stuck right where they were, and would have to get back to their own time _the long way_ , as Helix had put it.

He didn't like that idea much at all.

They had no idea whether their timeline even still existed. Whether Anakin fought on there. Whether the 212th and the 501st searched frantically for them, even now. Whether their disappearance had been enough to cause the GAR's resistance to the clankers to crumble and the Republic to lose the war.

Ben swallowed hard around the way the guilt tried to make his throat close. He hoped not.

Kark, but he missed Anakin. Moreso when he was reminded of his former apprentice, yes, but it underlaid everything with a dull sort of ache. He'd never have thought it possible, before winding up falling victim to that truly bizarre Force trap, but he missed Anakin's ability to draw blasterfire. He almost missed the incredibly unsubtle relationship between Anakin and Padmé. And despite that he'd managed to almost _forget_ about leaving Anakin--

_Nu draar,_ Helix reminded him through the network, interrupting him mid-thought with words that resonated with determination in the bond between them. _We're not letting you go, and you have nothing to feel guilty about. Stop worrying about the things you can't change._

That was... a rather more accurate shot than Ben was prepared to admit.

The rest of the _Vod'e_ joined their medic a moment later, their mental embrace lifting Ben back up out of the emotional mire he'd nearly gotten stuck in. He replied in kind, with a gentle reassuring touch to each of them, and settled himself again to continue sorting through the events of the past few months.

He missed Anakin fiercely, but somehow, despite that, he knew he felt better than he had in years. The Force bonds he'd forged with his _vod'e_ had almost certainly been the cause of that. Having them around him, having the network bearing him up when he stumbled, having the luxury of physical touch again in ways he hadn't in so long... It reminded him painfully strongly of his years in the crèche with Garen, Bant, Reeft and Quinlan. His troopers had become just as much his 'home' as the Temple had been before they'd gotten flung back in time.

And, for that matter, being where and when they were, he found he was less exhausted and heartsick. Not being sent from one battle into the next -- or, worse, into one grinding ground campaign after another -- had given him a chance to find his balance again. He felt happier and more stable than... than he had since before Master Qui-Gon had gotten killed.

A part of that was the way the Force was so much brighter and less clouded, but Ben knew that his _vod'e_ played just as much of a part in it, if not more.

And his _buir_ and Jango had been just as instrumental. If the _Mand'alor_ hadn't decided to adopt him on the basis that the _Vod'e_ were part of their _aliit_ and the seven of them wouldn't leave their General's side... Ben had no idea where they'd be. Perhaps they would eventually have found their way to Coruscant and the Temple. Perhaps his grandmaster would have taken them back with him after the deception on Korda VI had been revealed.

He rather suspected that staying with Jaster had legitimately been the better choice, though, considering the subsequent attempts on his _buir_ 's life.

His _vod'e_ were certainly right on that score. His sense of morality and ethics had kicked in and he simply had not been able to stand back and let the _Mand'alor_ go to his death. Without even thinking about the possible consequences, he'd intervened on Korda VI, and he couldn't find it in himself to regret that whatsoever. So much death and destruction, so much grief and pain, had come of that one moment, in their timeline.

They had no idea what changes they'd wrought to this timeline with that single act, either. Not yet. It was unclear how their presence and agency would affect the political and economic situation in the Mandalore sector and their relationships with their neighbors. They'd have to wait and see how everything panned out, in that regard.

The mere fact that their _buir_ hadn't been killed by the Death Watch attacks on Korda VI or on Mandalore itself was liable to have a massive impact on the way events unfolded from here on out. Jaster Mereel's death had been the catalyst to set a number of different disasters in motion in their timeline. Simply having kept their _buir_ alive -- and keeping him that way in future -- would mean that the Mandalore Sector's fate would be entirely different this time around. Their _buir_ would have to find a way to unite the clans, though. Much rested on his ability to persuade the _Mando'ad'e_ to follow his lead and stay the kriff out of the war that was coming. Keeping the notoriously hot-headed _Mando'ad'e_ from starting fights with neighboring sectors or wanting to join the war would be a task and a half.

The other smaller differences they'd brought about -- beginning to convince the _Mando'ad'e_ that Jedi were not the demons they were thought to be, Concordia becoming an official province, hells, the Concordia campaign itself -- were important but relatively minor victories. He doubted that they would have any hugely noticeable impact on the next few years.

Which, he had to admit, wouldn't be the worst possible outcome. It would draw less attention than a sudden sharp change.

Granted, the faster they could work, the better, and any improvement was better than none, but staying off the Republic's radar as much as possible would help them survive in the long run, if they truly were stuck in this time and place. The Sith Lord had already had decades to perfect his plan, and Ben knew that, despite the detailed knowledge he had of the events between their time and this one, he didn't know nearly enough. They'd achieved a couple of their primary objectives already, yes. They'd saved their _buir_ and kept Master Dooku stable enough thus far that Ben was fairly confident they could also keep that up long-term, if they needed to.

Master Sifo-Dyas had also seemed to benefit quite a lot from his visit to the sector, from what little Ben had been able to see. He'd gotten far less skittish and shy over the weeks he'd spent with them. And, for that matter, the fact that his grandmaster and Master Sifo-Dyas seemed to be in a _very committed_ relationship was kind of boggling. He'd never heard so much as the breath of a rumour about that in his own timeline, and yet here they were.

He hadn't believed it at first. It had just seemed too strange and run counter to everything he'd ever been taught about attachment. Sith-hells, it had to run counter to what his grandmaster had been taught, for that matter.

His _vod'e_ , on the other hand, had made a few logical leaps based on circumstantial evidence, and then insisted that they were correct. Their reasoning, based on their own cultural norms, had struck Ben as exceedingly unlikely to be on the mark, but as the days had turned into weeks, he'd had to admit -- to himself, at least -- that it appeared his troopers were entirely correct in their guesses.

Thank the Force, he wasn't likely to have to answer any questions on _that_ topic in the presence of the Council.

Even stranger was the idea that that particular pair of masters seemed to want to apprentice his younger self. That... just didn't quite compute. The way they handled the youngling was quite telling, though. Master Dooku might be incredibly awkward around the little one, but he was also quite fond of Obi-Wan and quite indulgent of the youngling's whims. Far moreso than Ben would _ever_ have expected of anyone as generally solemn and stern as his grandmaster was.

And, for that matter, his grandmaster was a good man, for all that he was a rather grey Jedi. Just thinking about just how badly the Dark Side had twisted and warped him in their original timeline was enough to send a pang of sadness through Ben. How different would his life have been, had his grandmaster not distanced himself from the Order before he'd gotten sent off to Bandomeer? Would Master Dooku have apprenticed him, if that had been the case? Had he missed out on what his younger self was enjoying now?

Kark, no, to think those kinds of thoughts was to invite madness.

All but shoving the tangled mess of emotion that came with those thoughts into the Force, re-centering himself, Ben refocused his mind again.

There were still a number of objectives they needed to accomplish, if they wanted to prevent the Clone Wars from breaking out, ranging from preventing the massacre at Galidraan from happening -- assuming it was even still going to take place after the changes they'd made on Korda VI -- to keeping Ventress from becoming a Sith Apprentice to ensuring that the Mandalore Sector was economically strong enough to handle the worst the Republic could throw at it.

The project he was attempting to get started, the _beskar_ glass, was quite promising in that regard, but it was a long-term kind of investment. Once it was tested and proven tech, Ben was sure it would sell like muja ice in the desert, but until then... Well, that was something to worry about once Ardanna had managed to source him the glazier he needed for the project and they had a clearer idea of what kind of startup costs they would face.

Perhaps it would be wiser to start working a different angle of the issue. They might well be unable to get back to their timeline, but, as he'd told his _vod'e_ , he didn't intend to give up fully on that idea before he'd even started searching for a way back. He'd need to get his hands on a copy of those notes Master Sifo-Dyas had promised to get him, and contact Master Nu, who was likely still combing the Temple Archives. And he needed to follow up on that sarcastic but brilliant suggestion Helix had made of going back to the system they'd been on, back when they'd first gotten into this mess. Going back to the point in space where they'd been when they'd been flung through time might well make getting back to their _Vod'e_ far easier. The fewer variables in the equation, the more manageable it was, after all.

He would have to assume that his attempt to get back would fail and plan accordingly, though.

If they were stuck without a way back to their timeline, they would need to start taking more proactive action to prevent the Clone Wars from breaking out. His _vod'e_ were entirely correct about that, too.

The seven of them seemed to be better at this time travel thing than he was, Ben reflected wryly.

And, he realised belatedly, even if they could get back, there was no guarantee that they would be the correct ages once they got back to their Battalion. If their trip backwards through the years was any indication, there was no telling what would happen when they reappeared in their own time. Even if they could get back, they might end up getting dropped in the Clone Wars as the undersized pre-teen versions of themselves they currently were. That would be something of a disaster. As it was, given their current physical ages, staying put where they had a chance to grow up a little bit, first, was no bad idea. Their future wasn't going anywhere. They had nearly thirty years to work with, if events transpired at roughly the same pace as they had before.

For now, they could stand to bide their time. He and his _vod'e_ needed to prepare themselves. All seven of his troopers would have to learn how to manage their Force senses and protect themselves adequately. That would be especially necessary if they could get back to their timeline and back into the fight. Given the number of Darksiders that they knew about -- and there were likely even more roaming the galaxy than that -- his _vod'e_ simply couldn't go without shields, and knowing how to use a 'sabre would be an advantage.

But that kind of teaching would take a long time. Perhaps years. His _vod'e_ learned incredibly quickly and efficiently, but not even they could absorb a couple of decades' worth of information and skill in the span of a few months. And, moreover, he might need to recruit an additional swordsman to assist him in teaching his _vod'e_ 'sabre work, given that he simply couldn't simultaneously drill all seven of them one-on-one in the techniques that required an opponent who knew the ropes. A smile tugged at his lips. That sounded like the perfect job for his grandmaster. Much could be accomplished by letting them practice on one another, but to truly learn good form and good habits, his _vod'e_ would need to spar with him or someone else with the requisite knowledge to offer advice or correct mistakes.

In the immediate future, he decided, shoving that thought aside for later, more detailed consideration, the Order needed to attempt to find out who had sent Master Dooku and his team to Korda VI. There was very obviously corruption of a very dangerous sort in the Senate. Something far more dangerous than the usual backroom financial deals and disinclination to enforce the laws they passed was driving the undercurrents of the political landscape into turmoil, and Ben was certain that the trail would lead back to the Sith Lord that Count Dooku had hinted was to be found there, back in his own timeline. 

Worse, Master Sifo-Dyas' visions seemed to confirm that allegation.

Of course, the Sith Lord would be very slippery and difficult to track down. That hunt was liable to take a long time to complete.

Perhaps... perhaps it would be wisest to find a way to disentangle the Order and the Senate, in the interim. Not being forced to jump whenever the Senate demanded it would mean a drastic reduction in the number of missions like the one on Korda VI that it would be possible for the Sith Lord to force through. Even simply finding a way to vet the missions that came to them would make a big difference.

No doubt the Council would argue about that particular plan for a few days before coming to a conclusion, however. 

Ben bit back a sigh. During a fraught session, the Council could argue for a week over what they wanted to eat for midmeal. Getting the High Council to agree to implement that kind of radical change to the way they handled assignments marked 'urgent' might well require his presence on Coruscant. If only so that he could argue the Council into _kriffing doing something_ about their status as the Sith Lord's unwitting pawns.

He was reasonably certain that he could count on Plo's support and Kit's and Master Sifo-Dyas', should he attempt something like that. He was a bit less certain Mace and Adi would follow his lead on something like that, given that he was very definitively not part of the Order or the High Council, but both were progressive enough to support such an idea if they could be convinced of the benefits it would bring. Master Yoda... was a wild card. As was Master Yaddle. He didn't really know the remaining High Councilors well enough to gauge whether they'd agree to whatever plan he could come up with. Ben reluctantly shelved that idea to consider in more depth later.

There was also the issue of what to do about the meteoric rise of the Trade Federation and Banking Guilds, after all. From a historical perspective, there was little reason for the two groups to have so quickly achieved the level of dominance that they had. All of their influence had accumulated because of a couple of risky ventures, which had paid them dividends literally worth a galaxy's ransom. And Ben had no idea what those ventures had been. The whole situation smacked of corrupt dealings and insider trading. Neither of which he could do much about, really. Though if he could find out what those two groups were investing in and convince his _buir_ to do the same, Mandalore could take advantage of the largess, too.

A thought occurred to him that very nearly jolted him right out of his meditation.

If they couldn't get back to their own timeline -- or chose to stay, treasonous as that might sound -- Anakin would be born into slavery sometime within the next decade. He wasn't sure precisely when it would happen, but as near as either of them had been able to pinpoint it, Anakin had been born in the first half of 957 ARR. That... _situation_ was one he wasn't about to allow Anakin to wind up in a second time. Should they still be stuck in the past at that point, he and his _vod'e_ would be of age to take action to go and get his former padawan, and Ben fully intended to do just that. They could simply go to Tatooine and _buy_ Anakin and Shmi away from their owner, if need be, though ridding the sector of the Hutts would frankly be a boon to the local economy. Those gangsters were a blight on the system and fostered a hive of scum and villainy.

He would have to discuss that plan with his _vod'e_ \-- and probably with his _buir_ and _ori'vod_ \-- when the time came to make a move. For now it would have to stay a plan.

Ben settled back onto his heels a little further, and took a deeper breath. His mind felt sharp and clear and he had his sense of direction back.

There was a lot he'd have to keep track of and organise by any measure he could think of, but he was -- somewhat to his own surprise -- actually looking forward to tackling the job. The enormity of it all still paled next to the weight that he'd carried during the War, effectively running the troop deployments for entire sectors of the galaxy and fighting a losing battle to stay emotionally balanced in the face of a veritable flood of casualties and losses, and the darkness in the Force. On top of that, he'd had so many other associated additional duties that he'd barely had time to sleep between his responsibilities and the ground campaigns he'd had to run with his men.

Now, the task in front of him was possible to break down into smaller parts and possibly even delegate. And, even better, he had allies he could trust enough to delegate them to and be confident that things would get done right.

Taking another deep breath, Ben opened his eyes with a smile, a calm resolve filling him that he hadn't felt in a long time.

He could do this. _They_ could.

With his faithful _vod'e_ at his side, he knew he could pull this off.

"General?" Cody prompted him. "You've got that dangerous karking look in your eyes."

Ben couldn't help himself. He laughed, feeling weightless and happy for the first time he could remember in years. "I'm certain I do, Cody," he agreed, "I'm certain I do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:  
> So. It's been a long, winding, convoluted journey, getting to this point, and it's been a blast of a time chatting with all of y'all in the comments. I didn't always have the time, spoons, or energy to get to them as they were posted to the chapters, what with RL being difficult at times this year, but every last one of them was good to see and fun to reply to. Especially all the very interesting theories and occasional very on target guesses.
> 
> Sadly, though, all good things must come to an end at some point, and this chapter marks the end of the first 'main' fic in this series. ('Main' in quotes because there is a 'sidefic' that's 65k jfc.) There **are** plans for a second installment in the works, and it's mostly plotted out, but none of it is written yet, so odds are good there will be a multiple-month-long hiatus between the end of this one and the beginning of part 2 of this ridiculousness. Those of you who are content to get off the ride at this point so do with a fond adieu from us both. Those who want to see what happens next and if our intrepid heroes _do_ , in fact, get home would do well to subscribe to the series for further updates.
> 
> I'm not super active on tumblr anymore, of late, but I can be found lurking in a variety of discord servers and don't mind being pinged to discuss fic whatsoever.
> 
> Those of you who felt inspired to write little ficlets or art arts consistently made our days, and if anyone happens to want to add to the list of fics or other goodies in the 'related works' list, I think I speak for us both when I say we'd be thrilled to see it happen. We didn't explicitly tag the fic 'podfic welcome' because of the _sheer karking length of it_ but if anyone is crazy enough to want to give it a go, feel free. And that goes for the rest of the series, too.  
> \-- Grav
> 
> I once read a bit of writing advice that said ‘any story you want to tell can be done in 100k words or less’. That’s probably true… Except _this_ crazy long fic is the story I really wanted to tell. I loved all of the asides and the multiple character povs, and I deeply enjoyed spending time with the characters as they learned about each other and themselves. We could have cut the fic down to its essential points, and in doing so we would have lost a huge part of what makes fanfic amazing. Fanfic is where we go to see all the things that the movies and the canon novels and the shows skip over. In my opinion, anyways. So you know what they say; be the change. I am deeply grateful that Grav was willing to indulge me, and that all of you fine readers decided to follow along. It’s been a fun ride. 
> 
> As Grav said, we have the next main fic plotted out, but it is so far unwritten. Partially, because we had to break up the main plot line into chunks at _some_ point, and partially because both of us wanted some feedback on what we had written thus far. I cannot even guess how many hours we’ve spent thinking up and joking about all the things that will happen next. We’ve got a lot of fun stuff in store for you all. Hopefully, life will be kind and in a few months, we’ll have something new to start posting. Until then, subscribe! There is more story waiting to be told.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, gave kudos, and left a kind comment. Your excitement and enthusiasm and pleasure at reading this crazy epic has made a tangible, positive impact on my life. I don’t often have the time or spoons to respond, but I read and reread every comment. Thank you. 
> 
> I am floating around on many discords, and you can also find me on [tumblr](https://quarra.tumblr.com) if you ever want to chat me up or see the shitposts I reblog.
> 
> It’s been fun, folks, and we’ll see you at the sequel ;)  
> \-- Quarra
> 
> Quarra: haha what if we spent 600k words writing angst, feels, and set up before we get to the main plot???  
> Grav: Well, I'd planned for a total of 100k. ..... kark it we're doing the thing.  
> Quarra: HOORAY


	56. Mando'a Glossary

**Ad** \- n. gender neutral word for son/daughter; plural: ad'e  
 **Adiik** \- n. child between the ages of 3 and 13 years  
 **Akaanir** \- v. to fight, present tense- akaani  
 **Aliit** \- n. clan/family  
 **Aliit ori'shya tal'din** \- Mando'a saying, meaning "Family is more than blood"  
 **Alor** \- n. leader, chief, officer, boss; can also be used to mean 'General'  
 **Al'verde** \- n. commander  
 **Aru'bral** \- n. enemy base (I made this one up; it's based on **aru'ela** for 'hostile' and **bral** for 'fortified location'.)  
 **Aruetii** \- n. traitor/foreigner/outsider; plural: aruetiise

 **B', Be'** \- prepositional prefix denoting relationship: 'of'; eg: **ad be'Mand'alor** = "child of the Mand'alor" or "the Mand'alor's child"  
 **Ba'buir** \- n. Grandparent  
 **Ba'slanar** \- v. leave, depart, exit  
 **Beskad** \- n. Mandalorian sword with a single-edged blade that widened toward the tip before tapering to a point. Two metal guards protected the wielder's hand at the top and base of the hilt; plural: beskad'e  
 **Beskar** \- n. Mandalorian iron  
 **Beskar'gam** \- n. armour (literally: iron skin)  
 **Besom** \- n. ill-mannered lout; plural: besom'e  
 **Bral** \- n. hill fort; high ground; defended position  
 **Buir** \- n. gender neutral word for mother/father; plural: buir'e  
 **Burc'ya** \- n. friend; plural: burc'ya'se  
 **Buy'ce** \- n. helmet plural: buy'ce'se

 **Chaabar** \- v. fear, be afraid of, present tense- chaaba  
 **Copaani mirshmure'cye?** \- Are you looking for a smack in the face?  
 **Cuy'val Dar** \- the group of 100 mercenaries hired to train the _Vod'e_ on Kamino  
 **Cyare** \- n. beloved, loved, popular

 **Dar'manda** \- no longer a Mandalorian; not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - a fate regarded with absolute dread by most traditionally-minded Mando'ade  
 **Di'kut** \- n. idiot; plural: di'kut'e  
 **Dini'la** \- adj. insane  
 **Dral'han** \- The Annihilation. Refers to the destruction of Mandalore's surface by the Jedi and the Republic.   
**Duumir** \- v. To allow; present tense: duumi

 **Elek** \- yes; can be shortened to **'lek** , which equates to an informal 'yeah'

 **Gar** \- personal pronoun; you  
 **Gedet'ye** \- please  
 **Gedin'la** \- adj. eccentric, cranky, in a mood (literally: almost insane)

 **Haashun** \- n. parchment bread - a thin sheet of bread dried to preserve it, and reconstituted in liquid. Mando ration-pack staple. Made properly, it's so thin you can read through it, hence the name; 'see-bread'.  
 **Haat** \- n. truth  
 **Haat, ijaa, haa'it** \- Truth, honor, vision - words used to seal a pact.  
 **Haat Mando'ad'e** \- n. True Mandalorians (plural)  
 **Haran** \- n. hell (literally: destruction, cosmic annihilation)  
 **Hukaatir** \- v. to cover  
 **Hukaat'kama** \- "Watch my six"  
 **Hut'uun** \- n. coward; very strong insult; plural: hut'uun'e

 **Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur** \- Mando'a saying, meaning "Today is a good day for someone else to die"

 **Jai'galaar** \- n. shriek-hawk  
 **Jare'la** \- adj. stupidly oblivious of danger, asking for it  
 **Jate'kara** \- n. luck, destiny - lit good stars, a course to steer by  
 **Jetii** \- n. Jedi; plural: jetiise  
 **Jetii'kad** \- n. Lightsabre (literally: Jedi sword); plural: jetii'kad'e

 **K', Ke'** \- prepositional prefix denoting an imperative; eg: **Olaror** = to arrive; **K'olar** = "come here"  
 **Kandosii sa ka'rta, vod'e an.** A line from the Mandalorian war chant, 'Vod'e an', meaning "One indomitable heart, Brothers all."  
 **Kandosii'la** adj. awesome; wicked; splendid  
 **Kama** \- n. Belt-spat (That thing the clone troopers wear that kind of resembles a kilt)  
 **Ka'ra** \- n. Stars; also refers to an ancient Mandalorian myth: the ruling council of fallen kings  
 **Ka'rta** \- n. heart, can be used as an endearment  
 **Kaysh mirsh solus** \- he's an idiot (literally: his brain cell is lonely)  
 **Kir'manir** \- v. to adopt; to give a soul to someone  
 **K'olar** \- come here.  
 **K'oyacyi!** \- come back safely (literally: stay alive)  
 **Kute** \- n. underwear, bodysuit, something worn under armor  
 **K'uur** \- hush (as in "hush now, it's alright")  
 **Kyr'tsad** \- n. Death Watch

 **Laandur** \- adj. delicate, fragile (sometimes an insult - weak, pathetic)  
 **Linibar** \- v. to need [something]; present tense: liniba

 **Manda** \- n. the collective soul or heaven - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit - also supreme, overarching, guardian-like  
 **Mandokar'la** \- adj. having the right stuff, showing guts and spirit, the state of being the epitome of Mando virtue  
 **Mando’ad** \- n. Mandaloran being (literally: Child of Manda)  
 **Mando'ad draar digu** \- "A Mandalorian never forgets."  
 **Mand’alor** \- n. sole ruler of the Mandalore Sector; (literally: leader of the _Mando'ad'e_ )  
 **Manda'yaim** \- n. the planet of Mandalore (literally: home of the _Mando'ad'e_ )  
 **Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verd'e.** \- Mandalorian marriage vows, meaning "We are one when together, we are one when apart, we will share all, we will raise warriors."  
 **Mirshko** \- n. courage  
 **Mirsh'kyramud** \- n. incredibly boring person (literally: brain assassin)  
 **Morutar** \- v. to welcome, verb; present tense - moruta  
 **Morut'yc** \- adj. safe, secure  
 **Munit tome'tayl, skotah iisa.** \- "Long memory, short fuse"; phrase said to describe the typical Mando mindset

 **Naas** \- n. Nothing  
 **Narudar** \- n. temporary ally; specifically your enemy's enemy, where both sides know this is an alliance of convenience and not a lasting pact  
 **Nayc** \- No  
 **Ne'johaa!** \- "Shut up!"  
 **Ne'tra gal** \- n. black ale. A sweet, almost spicy black beer similar to milk stout  
 **Ni** \- personal pronoun; I/me  
 **Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad** \- the (very simple) Mandalorian adoption ritual, the gai bal manda, meaning "I know your name as my child"  
 **Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum** \- I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. (Daily remembrance of lost loved ones.)  
 **Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la** \- Not gone, merely marching far away. (Tribute to a dead comrade.)  
 **Ner burc'yase** \- my friends  
 **Ni ceta** \- the highest way of saying "I'm sorry" (literally: "I kneel")  
 **Nu draar** \- No way. Absolutely not. Never in a million years. Not on your life. Emphatic disagreement and doubt. (literally: Not never.)

 **Olar** \- here  
 **Olarom** \- [be] welcome; a greeting  
 **Or'dinii** \- n. fool, moron  
 **Ori'copaad** \- n. obsession, fixation (literally: "big want")  
 **Ori'ramikad** \- n. supercommando (Mandalorian designation of elite special forces); plural: ori'ramikad'e  
 **Ori'vod** \- n. older brother/sister  
 **Osik** \- dung (impolite)  
 **Oya!** \- Many meanings: literally "Let's hunt!" and also "Stay alive!", but also "Hoorah!", "Go you!", "Cheers!"; Always positive and triumphant.

 **Pare sol** \- "Hang on!" (literally: Wait one.); **Ke'pare** is much more emphatic - *Wait!*

 **Resol'nare** \- the Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life. “The core of what it means to be Mandalorian. A sacred law giving us direction and purpose. Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language, our leader—all help us survive. We must educate our children as Mandalorians, obey the commands of Mandalore, speak Mando'a and defend our clans.” - Akaavi Spar  
 **Ret'urcye mhi** \- Goodbye (literally: Maybe we'll meet again.)  
 **Riduur** \- n. spouse/lover; plural: riduur'e  
 **Riduurok** \- n. marriage ceremony consisting of four phrases/promises/vows

 **Shabuir** \- n. jerk, but much stronger; extreme insult  
 **Shebs** \- n. Buttocks; plural: shebse  
 **Shuner** \- n. bread  
 **Striil** \- n. highly intelligent six-legged hunting carnivore, capable of gliding and flight  
 **Suum ca'nara** \- n. the state of blissful rest and peace  
 **Su cuy'gar** \- Hello (literally: You're still alive.)

 **Tiingilar** \- n. blisteringly spicy Mandalorian casserole  
 **Tion** \- preposition that marks a question

 **Uj'alayi** \- n. uj cake - dense, very sweet flat cake made of ground nuts, syrup, pureed dried fruit and spice

 **Ver'alor** \- n. lieutenant  
 **Verburyc** \- adj. Loyal  
 **Verd** \- n. soldier/warrior; plural: verd'e  
 **Verd'yc** \- adj. aggressive (not necessarily negative)  
 **Vod** \- n. gender neutral word for brother/sister; plural: Vod'e  
 **Vod'ika** \- n. little brother/sister; plural: vod'ike  
 **Vor entye** \- thank you (literally: I accept the debt)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Obi-wan and Sifo-Dyas for 212th Guide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27900007) by [CaptainSway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSway/pseuds/CaptainSway)
  * [Mandalorian Weddings Are Easy To Get Into](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255605) by [Starly_Studios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starly_Studios/pseuds/Starly_Studios)
  * [A Jedi Master's Guide to Dealing with Disturbances in the Force](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415297) by [Leianora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leianora/pseuds/Leianora)
  * [[Podfic] The 212th Attack Battalion's Guide to Staging Rescues by Antigrav_vector, Quarra](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29596539) by [Shaili_fyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaili_fyre/pseuds/Shaili_fyre)




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